Mad Dogs and an English Girl

by Caroline Waterman

He pushed the packet with my address into his pocket, smiled broadly, and stretching out his arms, grasped me tightly to him. I felt his warm lips on my neck and mouth, his hands gently caressing me and for some time we stayed locked in that embrace, in an ecstasy of happiness. But such public displays of affection were frowned on in Franco’s Spain and could attract the attention of the police so, reluctantly, we at last drew apart and had to content ourselves with gazing longingly at each other over glasses of white wine before walking, arms entwined, back to Anita’s house.

  So that was how it happened. I had given Luis my address and by doing so, had opened a door through which he could re-enter my life. I knew that ignoring Anita’s warnings could be a mistake, but teenage love is reckless and how could I know what the future might hold?

  These thoughts were passing through my mind as the Irún express pulled out of the station that afternoon and I waved my last goodbyes to Anita, Domi and my life in Spain. Leaning out of the window and watching the spires of Burgos cathedral recede into the distance as the train gathered speed, I suddenly recalled some lines of verse I had once come across by an American poet, Sara Teasdale.They went like this:

  When I can look life in the eyes,

  Grown calm and very coldly wise,

  Life will have given me the truth,

  And taken in exchange – my youth.