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Authors: Iris Danbury

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BOOK: Illyrian Summer
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After that day of merrymaking,
Sarah did not see Adam for more than a fortnight. She was kept busy by her work at the international canteen, and sometimes she joined Radmilla at one of the food depots and typed out long lists of supplies.

Then one evening he came into the cafeteria for a meal. He looked tired and haggard; his hair, never very tidy, was unkempt and whitened with dust.

Sarah interrupted her work of collecting crockery and bottles and spoke to him.

Have you been busy, Adam?

He pushed a hand across his forehead.

I

ve been trying to do two days

work every day. Those prefabs are urgent. We simply must get a number of people housed before the winter and soon we shall have the autumn rains.

She sat at the table with him while he ate.


I

ve taken a lot of time off from the steelworks,

he said presently,

but things are piling up. Mirjana has been doing some of the secretarial work at home, but tomorrow I

m taking her to Belgrade for a spell. Her mother needs her there.

He paused for a moment.

Sarah, do you think you could give me a hand? Even a couple of half days a week would keep me going.

All Sarah

s love for Adam welled up in a rush of eagerness. This was the first time he had ever asked her, and humbly at that, to do any service for him, and she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and tell him she would bang her typewriter sixteen hours a day for him, if need be.

She calmed herself and answered as sedately as she could,

Of course, Adam.
I’ll
be pleased to help you.

He arranged details and times with her and later she persuaded him to relax for an hour and watch the nightly entertainment, which, while still spontaneous, had now developed into a variety program almost on a world Olympic scale.

Sarah went to bed that night happier than at
any time since she had first met Adam. She drifted into sleep feeling that she hadn

t a care in the world.

Two nights later, heavy rain drumming on the tent woke both girls. Radmilla switched on her torch.

Only three o

clock,

she yawned, and rolled over again.

But Sarah, alert and wakeful, soon became aware of an ominous swishing and hissing. When something wet brushed her face she sat up, switched on her own torch and yelled with dismay.


Radmilla! Wake up! We

re flooded!

she called.

In the torchlight she saw water coursing over the groundsheets as though the tent were pitched in the middle of a river.


Heavens! What can we do?

Radmilla, wide awake now, said,

We must save all our things and run to another tent.

She opened the tent flap, but hastily pulled in her head again.

The sky has opened. It rains like a waterfall.

Sarah collected clothes, shoes, toilet items, everything she could put her hands on. It was a problem, though, to carry all her possessions in one journey.

There were voices and shouts outside as other tent occupiers found they were in trouble, and Radmilla stepped out into the drenching rain.


Quick, Sarah!

she said when she returned almost immediately.

Put on as many clothes as possible, and your anorak, and we can run to someone else

s tent.


I

ll have to come back for some of my things.

Sarah gathered all she could and ran to a neighboring tent, where a young German couple made room.

She and Radmilla made several journeys, splashing through the torrent, and on the last trip when Sarah was trying to find her typewriter the tent collapsed on her, tangling her in heavy wet folds. But she extricated herself at last and, clutching the typewriter, returned to the other tent, which was by now almost as wet as Sarah

s and Radmilla

s own, but was not so much in the patch of the streams making courses for themselves down the sloping ground.

By daylight the rain had not subsided, but at least one could see what was happening.


We must run down to the road,

Radmilla suggested.

and perhaps trucks will pick us up as they did the first time when the storm came.

All the roads were covered in liquid mud. but Sarah and Radmilla were picked up by an army truck and taken to a group of huts where there were hot drinks available and, later, facilities for drying clothes.

In the general confusion the two girls had rescued each other

s belongings, and Radmilla picked up Sarah

s rucksack.

Everything inside is wet, Sarah
.
You should dry them, I think.

Sarah was perturbed about her typewriter, for muddy water had seeped inside the case, but she had to leave it for the time being and go to her work at the cafeteria.

During the morning some of the British soldiers came in, among them Harry, the young man who had obligingly made Sarah a dozen bent-wire plate racks.


Dried yourself out
,
ducks?

he asked her.

Gosh, when it rains here, it
rains
—and no mistake.


I suppose you don

t know how
I
can get a typewriter properly dried, do you?

Sarah queried.

I

m afraid some of the parts may rust or jam themselves.


It

s not up my street, but one of my pals could do it for you. He

s a wizard with radios, typewriters, tape recorders, anything like that.

He borrowed another man

s waterproof cape to put around Sarah

s shoulders when she went to the hut to collect the typewriter. In places the ground was a sticky morass like dark brown custard.


After you

re really wet through a few times,

she said as Harry accompanied her on the return journey,

you don

t care.

The young man promised to take the typewriter to his friend Joe, and return it the same evening if possible, or else the next day.


Thanks very much. I

d like it back as soon as possible.

She was thinking of tomorrow when she was due to go to Adam

s office and might need the typewriter.

As the day went by, Sarah was aware that her throat was dry and her head ached intolerably. She worked mechanically, scarcely knowing what was said to her or what she answered. Radmilla sent a message saying that Adam had telephoned and the two girls were to go to the house in which he lived, near the steelworks, where Madame Pavlica would look after them.

Adam

s house was too far away. Sarah spoke to one of the other assistants.

I

m going back to the hut. I feel as though I

m starting a cold.

The rain was still coming down in torrents, and when she arrived at the hut Sarah stripped off some of her wet clothes, but little else was dry enough to put on. She wrapped herself in a blanket and flopped onto her bunk bed.

It might have been hours or only minutes later when she heard Radmilla

s voice.

Sarah! Why are you here? We must go to Adam

s house.

Sarah sighed and closed her eyes again.

You go. I can

t be bothered. I

ll stay here.


Sarah! You are ill!

But Sarah had slipped away into blankness.

When she again became aware of her surroundings, she blinked her eyes and stared. Why, she was not in the hut at all, but in a comfortable bed in a charming little room.

I thought Adam was here.

She was surprised to hear her words spoken aloud.


So he is.

His warm hand clasped hers.


Have I been ill?

she asked.

How long?


Only three days,

Adam answered.

A feverish cold, complete exhaustion ... you shouldn

t have tried to work when you were so wet through, Sarah.


Three days!

she murmured.

Sliced right out of my life.


You were taken to the American army field hospital, but when they found you didn

t have pneumonia they threw you out and I brought you here.


Thank you, Adam. That was kind of you. And Radmilla?


She

s also been looking after you
,
along with Cjospoda Pavlica.

Radmilla came into the room to bring a glass of yogurt.

Ah, that is better,

she said.

Now you begin to look like the Sarah we know.

Adam moved toward the window.

Radmilla and I brought all your possessions here, so I hope nothing is missing. One of your army friends in the Royal Engineers brought your typewriter. Said he

d oiled and cleaned it. He gave his name as Harry

s pal, Joe.

Sarah smiled.

It was Harry who made me the plate racks.

“I
rescued your straw hat,

Adam continued.

It

s dried out, but rather
an odd shape. I

m afraid.

He had picked it up from the knob of axhair and was twirling it in his hand.

Sarah laughed shakily, but she was near to tears.


You must have some new ribbons for it, Sarah,

Adam said casually, and replaced the hat. While his back was turned she brushed away the idiotic tears.

After Adam left, Radmilla told Sarah the news of the past few days.

But Adam!

Radmilla shrugged expressively.

I do not know what kind of man he is. First he is running this way and that for
Mirjana
and then he takes her to Belgrade. When she is out of the way, he is everywhere at once, at the hospital, here in this house, asking about you many times every day.

She sighed.

Perhaps he just likes to have many girls all at one time.

Sarah smiled. She was not sure, either, what kind of man Adam was. She merely said now,

Safety in numbers.

Radmilla explained that she, too, was living here temporarily in the house, but Adam had moved to one of the huts near the prefab site.


Oh, we have turned him out!

exclaimed Sarah.

Madame Pavlica must be wondering how many more of Adam

s girl friends she will have to shelter.

By the time Sarah was fit to go out of doors, the long rainy spell had ended and the ground had dried out considerably, though the roads and paths were rutted. Adam insisted that she was not to return to work at the cafeteria.


I

ll provide you with whatever job you need—and you

ll be just as useful as you were there doing the washing-up or burning the kebabs.


I never burned anything!

she protested.

They wouldn

t let me near the cooking.


Perhaps that was to everyone

s benefit!

BOOK: Illyrian Summer
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ads

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