Free Love and Fallout by Kathryn Simmonds Page B

out of that office, out of Stevenage and free. I edged closer, careful not to disturb whatever tiny animal might be at work, and as I peered from behind a tree the source revealed itself: there, with her back to me, someone was sitting in an empty bath, reading a book and crunching steadily on a carrot. A branch cracked under my foot and the figure turned.
    â€˜Hello there.’ It was Rori, hatless, her curls bobbing free. ‘Survived your first night?’
    â€˜More or less.’ It felt odd to disturb someone in the bath, even if they were fully clothed.
    â€˜I imagine the welcome committee woke you?’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜Drunks from Newbury who’ve nothing better to do. They wanted to piss in Barbel’s tent.’
    â€˜Piss in it?’
    â€˜They’re usually content to hurl abuse or rubbish, but occasionally they’ll become more adventurous, try to impress each other by overturning our tents or stealing our belongings.’
    â€˜Sounds horrible.’
    Rori shrugged and took another bite of her carrot. The bath had an old-fashioned roll top, with two exposed pipes where it had once been plumbed into a wall. Bricks propped it up at the back, but in the front its original claw feet survived.
    â€˜What are you reading?’
    She flipped the cover as if to remind herself, ‘ An Introduction to Feminist Thought. Something Angela lent me.’
    â€˜Any good?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s all right. I’ve reached a chapter which discusses de Beauvoir’s idea of immanence, you know the closed realm of the woman which keeps her passive and static, as opposed to the male state of transcendence. But Simone wouldn’t think that if she were here, would she?’ Rori leaned back and considered the twiggy sky. ‘Then I started pondering that old existentialist idea that freedom is a burden and causes anxiety.’ I nodded as if I knew this idea well and was regularly thinking about it. ‘But we’re compelled to be here, I mean at this camp, so the burden has lifted. Which is itself liberating.’ She turned her head to me and raised a finely arched brow in a gesture which meant What do you think?
    I nodded in a way I hoped looked ruminative.
    â€˜But the anguish always manifests somehow I expect,’ she added, taking another chomp on the carrot. She was right. The idea of being urinated on while you slept was enough to anguish anyone.
    â€˜D’you have any books with you?’ She’d obviously read de Beauvoir so I mentioned Germaine Greer.
    â€˜Oh,’ she seemed disappointed, ‘nothing else?’
    â€˜Well… not exactly…’
    She leaned forwards, ‘You’re blushing!’
    â€˜I, um, borrowed it.’ Shamed on my first day.
    â€˜What is it?’
    â€˜ The Wives of Sunset Strip ,’ I said from my hot face.
    â€˜Ha! Thank God, something fun.’ Rori sighed, laying the book down. ‘Anyway, that’s a classic feminist text.’
    â€˜Is it?’
    â€˜Of course, it’s all about righting the status quo for subservient women in a male-dominated materialist culture.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Absolutely. And there’s a good dollop of sex in it too,’ she said, repositioning her leg. ‘Who doesn’t want to read about sex?’ Her boot now rested on a tap freckled with rust. ‘You and I are going to get on famously,’ she declared. I felt my heart lift.
    â€˜So, do you actually have baths in there?’ I asked, shifting my weight onto my other leg because there was nowhere to sit apart from the edge of the bath.
    â€˜Used to in the summer, with some effort. We dragged it behind the trees for the sake of privacy, then we’d shallow fill it and there you are, bathing en plein air.’ She trailed a hand over the side. I imagined a cloth-capped ladies’ maid pouring jugs of water over her back. ‘Now I use it to read. Always