Bradley - The War I Finally Won

You can know things all you like, but that doesnt mean you believe them.

Ada! You need to drink something! Susans voice, scolding. Susans hands, pushing a cup of cold tea into mine.

I dont want to, I said. Really I dont.

Susan curled my fingers around the teacup. I understand, she said, but please try. Its the last thing theyre going to let you have. Youll be thirsty in the morning.

My right foot was twisted sideways at the ankle. It had been all my life. My ankle bones grew curled, so my toenails scraped the ground and what should have been the bottom of my foot faced the sky. Walking hurt like anything. Despite the calluses, the skin on my foot tore and bled.

This night in the hospitalnearly three years ago nowwas September 16, 1940. A Monday. It was a little over a year into the war between Hitler and most of the rest of the world. Eleven years into the war between the rest of the world and me.

The very next day surgeons were going to chop my curled ankle bones up and rearrange them. Maybe into something like a functional foot.

I put the teacup Susan gave me to my lips. I forced myself to sip. My throat closed. I choked. Tea splattered across the bedcovers and my tray.

Susan sighed. She mopped up the spilled tea, then motioned for one of the nurses who was putting up the blackout to come and take away my tray.

Since the start of the war, we covered our windows with blackout screens every night, so that German bombers wouldnt be able to aim at our lights. My hospital wasnt in London, which was getting bombed every night right now, but that didnt mean it wouldnt be hit. You never could tell what Germans would do.

Letter for you, Mum, the nurse said, handing Susan an envelope as she scooped up the tray.

Delivered to the hospital? How odd. Susan opened it. Its from Lady Thorton. She unfolded the letter inside. She must have sent it before she got my note with the boardinghouses address. Ada, are you quite sure you dont want something to eat? Toast?

I shook my head. The mouthful of tea Id swallowed swirled in my stomach. I think Im going to be sick.

Susan gasped. She looked up at me, snatched a basin from the bottom shelf of my bedside table, and thrust it beneath my chin. I clenched my teeth and held everything in.

Susans hand shook. The basin shook too. I looked at her face. Shed gone pale, her eyes dark and wide.

Whats wrong? I asked. What does that letter say?

Nothing, she said. Breathe deep. Thats it. She put the basin down, folded Lady Thortons letter, and tucked it into her handbag.

Something was wrong. I could see it on her face. Is it Butter? I asked.

What?

Has something happened to Butter? Butter was Susans pony. I loved him. He was staying in Lady Thortons stables while I was in hospital.

Oh, Susan said. No. That is, Lady Thorton didnt mention Butter, but she would have if anything were wrong.

Maggie? Maggie was Lady Thortons daughter, my best friend.

Maggies fine, Susan said. Her hands still shook very slightly. Her eyes didnt look right. Everyones fine in the village.

And Jamies fine, I said. It was a statement, not a question, because it had to be true. My brother Jamie wasnt in the villagehe was here with us. Susan and Jamie and Bovril, Jamies cat, were staying in a rented room in a boardinghouse near the hospital. Jamie was there with the landlady now.

Jamie was six years old. Wed guessed he was seven, but we had his birth certificate now and he wasnt, not quite.

I was eleven. I had my birth certificate too. Id known my real birthday for just over a week.

Susan nodded. Jamies fine.

I took a deep breath. Is something stopping my surgery? Before last week, when Mam tried to snatch us away from her, Susan had said she couldnt give permission for me to have surgery. She still couldnt give permission, but she didnt care anymore. She said that what was right and what was permitted were sometimes different things. I needed surgery and I was going to have it.

I didnt ask questions.

Susan smoothed my hair back from my forehead. I pulled away. I wont let anything stop your surgery, she said.

There was still something off about her voice and expression. I knew it had to do with Lady Thortons letter. Lady Thorton could upset just about anyone. When Id first met her, before I knew her name, I called her the iron-faced woman. She was sharp like an axe.

Lady Thorton couldnt meddle with us here. Wed lost everything inside Susans house, but I still had Jamie, Susan, Bovril, and Butter. And surgery tomorrow. It was more than enough.

You can know things all you like, but that doesnt mean you believe them.

A little over a year ago, Id taught myself to walk in Mams one-room London flat. I kept it secret, wiping up the blood before Mam came home every day. Id only wanted to be able to leave the flat, not the city, but learning to walk saved me. When Mam sent Jamie away from London with all the other children, because of Hitlers bombs, I snuck out too. We ended up with Susan and Butter in a seaside village, in Kent.

Susan didnt want us then. We didnt want her either, but I wanted her pony, and Jamie and I both liked her food and eventually we all three wanted to stay with each other. Of course that was when Mam showed up to take us back. Only a week ago, that was. Susan decided to fight for us. She followed us to London, which meant we were all away from Susans house the night German bombers destroyed it entirely. So the worst thingMams returnbecame the best thingnot dying from the bombs.

Now everyone was acting like my surgery tomorrow would be the best thing ever, which made me worry it might turn out badly. Susan said it couldnt be bad. She said she hoped my foot would work properly after the surgery, but if it didnt I would be fine. I was fine now and I would be fine afterwards, no matter what.

Maybe.

It depended entirely on what you meant by fine.

We were still in a war. The nurses claimed theyd be able to get all the patients into the basement quickly enough if the air raid sirens went off. They hadnt had to do it yet, so who knew if they really could.

Susan leaned forward. She hugged me. It was awkward for us both. I let out my breath. My stomach still churned. Dont worry, Susan said. Ill see you in the morning. Go to sleep.

I couldnt sleep but the night passed anyhow. In the morning Susan held my hand while a nurse wheeled my bed down the hall. We stopped outside a heavy white door. The nurse said to Susan, This is as far as you can go.

I hadnt realized Susan would have to leave me. I clung to her. What if it doesnt work?

For a moment her fingers tightened around mine. Courage, she said, and let go.

In the operating theatre a man in a long gown held a mask in front of my face. When I put this over your mouth, he said, I want you to very slowly count to ten.

I only made it to four before I fell asleep.

Coming out of the ether was harder. My right leg was pinned, trapped. I couldnt move. I broke into a sweat struggling to pull myself free. Id been caught in a bombing, buried in rubble. I couldnt move my leg. Then somehow I was trapped again in the dank cabinet beneath the sink, in our old flat in London. Mam had locked me inside. The cockroaches

Shh. Susans voice, soft in my ear. Settle down. Its over. Youre fine.

I was not fine. Not in the cabinet, not with Mam

Someone pinned my arms. Threw a blanket over me, tucked it tightly around my sides. Open your eyes, Susans voice said, still gentle. The surgerys over.

I opened my eyes. Susans face swam blurrily in front of me. Youre safe, she said.