I don’t suppose I’ll be getting my Blighty ticket yet. I can still do my job, but the MO will have the final word. They’re so desperate for men at the front, I say he won’t be too keen on letting me go. Thank God I had the sense to avoid infantry duty. At least I don’t have to live up to my knees in muck like those poor blokes in the trenches.
Tell Mother and Father not to worry. I’m enjoying my work and happy to be doing my bit for Britain. I’ve got a fine group of men in my unit, and they all treat me with respect, even the old codgers. I’ll probably be here another week or two, so write back.
Until then, I remain your most wonderful brother,
Theo
Ellie wiped her eyes, grinning at her brother’s cheek. She couldn’t get over the fact that he was there with Johanna—what great good luck!
“What is an MO?” Mother asked. Theo had evidently shared that information in her letter as well.
“Medical Officer. They evaluate the patients and decide who must go home and who is fit to stay in the fight.”
“Well, surely this medical officer will release your brother from duty. For heaven’s sake, he’s wounded.”
Ellie sighed. There were just some things Mother would never understand. “It isn’t likely. I’ve helped patch up men with worse wounds, only to see them sent back to their regiments. It’s a nasty business, you know.”
Mother huffed. “Well, perhaps I would know if you ever spoke to me about it.”
“I don’t care to talk about it. Trust me, Mother—in this case, ignorance is bliss. I’m going up to my room for a rest.”
“Fine, then. Don’t be late for dinner.”
Ellie snatched up her letters and left, needing to be away from her mother’s badgering. It hadn’t taken her long to expect Ellie to pick up right where she’d left off before, as if the last ten months had never happened.
Back in her room, she put her mother out of her head and focused on Johanna’s letter. She brought the envelope to her nose, imagining Johanna’s scent, then ran her finger over the neat black script, savoring every detail. Fetching her letter opener from the bedside table drawer, she freed Johanna’s words into her eager hands.
My Darling,
Theo is here! He walked right into the ward and asked if I knew of his sister—I nearly fell over from the shock. He’s a braw young lad, and kind. He looks so much like you, and I miss you even more, if that’s possible. Don’t fash about his wound—he was lucky and will be just fine. I don’t reckon we’ll be able to keep him much longer, and I’ll be very sad to see him go.
Now that spring is here, I go to our spot on the beach whenever I can get away. It’s where I feel closest to you, my love, but sometimes I want to hold you so badly I can’t bear it. Theo told me all about your home, and I can imagine you there, strolling about the gardens or reading a book, surrounded by pretty things that are no match for your beauty. There I go, fancying myself a poet. I’m so grateful for the poems you sent—I read them every day, and they sustain me.
I hope you are well and recovering quickly, darling. I’m holding up all right, but I’d give anything for a repeat of our time in Paris. My lavender-scented pillow takes me to you in my dreams. I pray the Americans can give our side the strength it needs to end this nightmare once and for all, for the sooner it’s over, the sooner I can see you again. I’ll step outside now to send more kisses on the wind.
Love,
Johanna
Ellie lay on the bed, clutching the letter to her chest, and cried.
* * *
Johanna stood in the rain as the orderlies loaded the wounded into the ambulances. Most were headed to the port and the waiting hospital ship bound for England, but a few, like Theo, were going back to the war. She watched him clasp the hand of a soldier on a stretcher, knowing he was bidding farewell to one of his men. She’d seen such moments a hundred times, but this one touched her in a different way. She’d come to care for Theo, and she would be praying for his safety once again.
“Cheer up, Johanna,” he said, coming to stand before her. “It can’t rain forever.”
“I don’t care a lick about the weather, Lieutenant, and you know it.”
Theo laughed. “Well, if we’ve gone back to formalities, then…” He took Johanna’s hand and kissed it. “I’m honored to have met you, Sister Lennox. And if I may be so bold, I feel as if I’ve gained a friend in you. We’ll meet again, I feel sure of it.” He smiled, and on impulse, Johanna reached up to kiss his cheek.
“Be safe, then, lad. You need to get back to stealing the bacon off Ellie’s plate.” She smiled back at him, trying to hold her tears at bay.
“Ah, Ellie told tales about me, I see. Take care of yourself, Johanna.”
“You, too, Theo.” She watched him jump into the cab of the ambulance and waved as they drove away.
Protect him, sweet Jesus, please protect him.
Chapter Twenty
Johanna began to measure time by Ellie’s letters, which arrived like clockwork once a week. She read and reread them to maintain her sanity, as summer weather meant more frequent battles and more wounded pouring in. She was hot, tired, and sore all the time, but when she received a letter, her discomfort faded.
My Dearest,
I hope it is cooler there than it has been here lately. When it’s miserably hot and I can’t sleep, I imagine being on our beach with you and wading in the cool water. I try to guess how busy it must be at the hospital by reading the newspapers, but of course they don’t tell us the whole truth about battles and such.
Here it is a craziness of a different sort. The socialites have decided that the London season must go on, despite those trifling inconveniences of war and rationing. My mother is driving me mad by insisting that I attend this luncheon and that party. I’ve gone several times just to placate her, but I’ve found them more boring than ever. Mother has doubled her efforts to marry me off now that I’m home, and she’s invited four different men to come calling. I’m running out of excuses to decline them, and it all makes me want to scream. The last one was at least twenty years my senior and smelled like old cheese. Even my father is encouraging me to settle down with someone, the traitor. How I wish you were here to take me away!
Johanna’s chest tightened painfully. How in the world could she take Ellie away from her family, from the only life she’d ever known? She knew how difficult it would be for Ellie to go against her parents’ wishes, but if she did, would they disown her? Theo had described their splendid home—Johanna had never set foot in such a place. The best she could hope for would be to find a small flat of her own after the war. Ellie would never be happy giving up her life of wealth and comfort for that.
As these thoughts raced through her mind, Johanna’s despair grew. Was she a fool to think there could ever be a happily ever after for her and Ellie? Maybe she was just being selfish. She knew Ellie cared for her, but she was a beautiful, vibrant young woman. She should be with someone who could give her the best in life, and raise children who would want for nothing.
If I hadn’t been so damned weak, I could have avoided all of this, and Ellie would be moving on with her life. Who knows when we might see each other again? I have no right to make her wait.
Johanna’s heart broke as she agonized over her decision, but in the end, she knew what she had to do.
* * *
Ellie rushed to her room with the latest letter from Johanna and flopped down, breathless, on her bed. The slight breeze that stirred the curtains at the window did little to cool the air on this hot July afternoon, but it was preferable to sitting in the parlor with Mother and her pretentious friends. Ellie opened the envelope and began to read. Moments later, it was as if the sun had been snuffed out, the air sucked from the room. No, no, no, no. Tears sprang to Ellie’s eyes as she read the excruciating words.
Dearest Ellie,
Forgive me for what I must do. The moments we spent together were the best of my life, and I will cherish
them always. You awakened a part of me, buried deep beneath my pain, that I thought was dead, and I am truly grateful. What we had was the most beautiful dream, my darling, but now that you’re gone, the dream is over. You are where you belong and must live the life you were born to live. I cannot share such a life with you—I am only the daughter of a fisherman. God knows when I will ever make it home, but if I do, my work will barely earn a living wage. I could never provide for you all that you deserve, and your parents would surely not accept me. Please know that I do this because I love you. Your happiness is all I hope for, and I can rest easy believing that someday, someone better than me will take care of you. Do not be sad, sweet Ellie—this is for the best. Please, let me go.
Johanna
“Ugh, you foolish, foolish woman!” Ellie pounded the bed with her fists as hot tears spilled from her eyes. She had never experienced such intense pain and suddenly understood what it meant to have a broken heart. She sobbed until no more tears would come, and then, her sadness shifted to anger. Johanna had no right to decide what was best for her, and her stubborn insistence that she wasn’t good enough drove Ellie mad with frustration. She could not, would not accept this. Moving to her writing desk, she snatched up her pen and a sheet of stationery. Dipping her pen into the inkwell, she began to write, dribbling ink in her haste to put her thoughts to paper. Johanna Lennox would soon find out that Ellie Winthrop could not be chased away.
* * *
Once Johanna had posted her good-bye letter to Ellie, she was again overcome with grief for all she had lost. She believed she had done the right thing, but that was little consolation to her broken heart. She threw herself into her work, seeking the numbness of complete exhaustion. The volunteers and nurses gave her a wide berth, speaking only when necessary. She knew she was allowing her emotions to affect her work and wasn’t surprised when Matron Campbell intervened.
“Sister Lennox, a moment, please.” She disappeared through the door and Johanna followed. Once outside, Matron Campbell took Johanna’s arm and pulled her out of earshot of any passersby. “What is going on with you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Johanna said, staring at her shoes.
“Humph. You’d bloody well talk about it. The volunteers are afraid to speak to you, the other sisters have had enough of your moodiness, and the patients deserve better.”
“I’m sorry, Matron. I’ve just been upset lately.”
“Clearly.” Matron lowered her voice and asked, “Does this have anything to do with Ellie Winthrop?”
Johanna jerked her head up, shocked at the question. “What?”
“You know, I’m not blind, Johanna.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Johanna’s face burned as her stomach clenched painfully.
“Don’t you?” Matron sighed. “After your shift, please come to my office. We need to talk.”
Johanna knocked on the door a while later, her thoughts in turmoil. Whatever Matron thought she knew…
“Johanna, please shut the door and come sit.”
Johanna sat, feeling more anxious than a naughty pupil in the headmaster’s office. Matron Campbell regarded her in silence for a moment, then reached into her desk drawer. “I think this calls for a little taste of home.” She pulled out a bottle of Scotch and a couple of small glasses, then poured them each a dram of the amber liquid. Matron took a sip, then said, “I know what you’re going through, Johanna, and I’ve decided to share with you a personal story. No one here knows what I’m about to tell you, but I believe I can trust your discretion.”
“Aye, Matron. I’ll not breathe a word to anyone.”
Matron nodded. “Before the war, I shared my home in London with…a friend. She was a teacher at a primary school. Neither of us had ever wed, and we had what was called a Boston marriage. People likely assumed we were just good friends sharing expenses, but it was more than that. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Johanna could only nod, unable to believe what she was hearing. This woman, whom she had long admired and respected, carried her own secret.
“I was in love with her, and she with me. We had ten wonderful years together before my Lucy passed, and a large piece of my heart died with her. I know what you and Ellie mean to each other, lass—I suspected for a while, but I knew for sure that you were in love with her when she became ill. One doesn’t see such devotion every day, you know.”
Johanna took a long sip of Scotch, hoping the burn would rid her throat of the lump that had formed there. Her burden of guilt weighed heavily on her, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Och, Matron, I’m so ashamed,” Johanna said, her face burning as she stared into her glass.
“Whatever for?”
“I’ve behaved unprofessionally. I was irresponsible to let things develop with Ellie, and by God, I tried not to, but—”
“Stop, Johanna. I didn’t call you here to chastise you, nor will I allow you to punish yourself. Life is full of the unexpected, and we never know when love will find us. You may have broken the rules, lass, but don’t you ever be ashamed of loving her. I know it’s been difficult for you since she went home, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. We must complete our duty. If you are meant to find her again, you will.”
Johanna shook her head, tears falling freely. “I wrote to her. I told her to move on, to live the life she was born to. Her family is wealthy and very traditional—I would never be accepted there. I convinced myself that my only choice was to let her go.”
Matron Campbell patted her arm. “Heavens, child, no wonder you’re in such a state. I can’t say I agree with you making her choice for her, but I understand why you did it.”
“What if I made a mistake? What if I lost my best chance at happiness because I’m a bloody fool?”
“Time will tell, but as hard as this is, there’s still a war on. You’re a strong woman, Johanna, and I don’t have to tell you how futile it is to wallow in self-pity. We have a job to do, and I need you at your best. If you need to talk, I’m here, but I expect professionalism when you’re on duty.”
Johanna straightened her shoulders and wiped her eyes. Matron, with patience and kindness, had given her the chance to unburden herself, and now it was time to buck up and carry on. “I understand, Matron, and…thank you.”
* * *
July brought waves of wounded from Passchendaele. The men told horror stories of the heavy rains and mud so deep that rifles clogged, tanks floundered, and men and horses drowned. Under constant bombardment, they could do little but hunker down in shell craters full of putrid water, surrounded by mud, rats, and rotting body parts of those that had gone before. Scores of soldiers lost their feet to trench foot so severe, the flesh rotted away to the bone, and nearly every wound was infected. The hospital staff also learned very quickly that chemical warfare had escalated. Soldiers were coming in with massive blisters and burns, blinded and struggling to breathe. The culprit was mustard gas, a horrific new weapon deployed by the Germans.
Word came that more nurses were needed at the casualty clearing stations because too many of the wounded were dying while waiting to be seen. Johanna needed to get away, and she once again volunteered. Hard work was the balm for her shattered heart—the less time she had to think, the better.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matron Campbell asked. “You’re putting yourself at significant risk. They want reinforcements at Saint-Omer and Brandhoek, right on the rail lines, so you know you’ll be directly in the line of fire.”
“Aye, I’m aware,” Johanna said.
“I could see about transferring you to Calais instead, away from the front.”
“No, I’d prefer to go where the greater need is, Matron.”
Matron Campbell sighed. “Stubborn as the day is long, you are. I just think you may be doing this for the wrong reasons. I worry that you’re being reckless with your life.”
Johanna looked her superior in
the eye and saw her own worry mirrored there, but she wouldn’t be dissuaded. Perhaps Matron was right that she was throwing caution to the wind, but it didn’t matter—she’d made up her mind. “With respect, Matron, it’s my life and my decision. Send me to Brandhoek.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Johanna had stepped into hell on Earth, worse even than Hazebrouck had been. Brandhoek CCS was chaotic, like an anthill that had been violently disturbed. Stretcher bearers, nurses, and orderlies were in constant motion, trying desperately to help the wounded pouring in from Passchendaele. Every single man was caked in foul-smelling muck, and the stench made Johanna retch. As she stood for a moment to get her bearings, a nurse approached and held up a hand in greeting. Her uniform was streaked with mud and blood, but she moved with the tireless energy of someone on a mission.
“Sister, you are one of the reinforcements?”
“Aye, I’m Sister Lennox, just in from Boulogne.”
“Glad to meet you. I’m Sister Hawkins. Come, I need to get you up to speed.”
Johanna followed the woman to a large tent, outside of which was a decontamination and bathing station. Orderlies were stripping dozens of soldiers of their clothing and ushering them to makeshift showers.
“These men have been exposed to mustard gas,” Sister Hawkins explained. “Once they’ve been washed, they’ll come inside. We irrigate their eyes, excise and treat the blisters, then get them into clean clothing. You’ll join the rotation with Sisters Jones and Pratt there.” She pulled over a medical cart. “Here’s the irrigation solution for the eyes—you may need to rinse them several times before there’s any relief. We’re clipping away all the blistered skin, cleaning the area with this antiseptic lotion, and wrapping with Vaseline gauze.”
While My Heart Beats Page 12
