An Uncertain Heart

by June Tate

  She found this amusing and started to laugh. ‘My goodness, that would have caused a scandal!’

  He rose from his chair and walking round the desk, pulled her to her feet. Catching hold of the back of her head, he held her and covered her lips with his. His kisses were full of passion as his mouth explored hers. She found herself responding. It had been a while and the needs of both of them surfaced. They lost themselves in the moment.

  He released her and staring into her eyes said, ‘Your quarters or mine?’

  ‘Mine,’ she said, ‘it’s quieter and there is less chance of us being seen.’

  ‘You go now and I’ll come along in a few minutes.’

  Helen walked to her quarters and began to undress with a mounting need for the promised intimacy and soon she heard footsteps. There was a gentle tap on the door and she opened it. Richard stepped inside. He was carrying a file, which he held up for her to see.

  With a grin he said, ‘Well, at least this looks official.’ He put it down on the chair and reached for her, caressing her as he rained kisses on her bare body. Then he too undressed after carefully locking the door.

  ‘We don’t want to be interrupted, do we?’

  Eyes twinkling, Helen said, ‘Absolutely not,’ as she threw back the bedcovers.

  They were so used to each other, they knew how to please, but it had been so long since they’d been together, there was a hunger about their lovemaking. Like a starving man, suddenly faced with a feast.

  Eventually they lay together, entwined and exhausted. Richard wiped the perspiration from his brow.

  ‘Oh my God, Helen, I needed that!’

  ‘So it would seem,’ she said, chuckling softly, then she let out a deep sigh.

  Pulling her to him he asked, ‘Was that a sigh of satisfaction?’

  She gently chided him. ‘What is it with you men? You always want a reference after making love!’

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘How many men have you known that makes you such an expert?’

  Removing his arm, she got out of bed and started dressing.

  ‘That, Richard, is none of your business. Now, I suggest you get dressed and leave before someone comes along.’

  He did so, reluctantly. ‘We need to book into a hotel so we can really relax without any worries, then we can really take our time and enjoy each other.’

  When dressed, he leant forward and kissed her. ‘See you tomorrow.’ Picking up the file, he left.

  It was Christmas Eve and a vicar with his choir from a nearby church arrived at the hospital. The patients who were mobile sat in chairs in the main entrance to the hospital, which had been prepared and where an altar had been placed. Those who were bedridden and wanted to attend had been wheeled in and placed around the room, while others were in wheelchairs. There had been very few who were unable to attend the service and everyone joined the choir in singing carols. The atmosphere was filled with emotion that was palpable as patients and medical staff thought of home and families and prayers were said. But the final carol, ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night’, lifted the spirits and was sung with gusto.

  The patients were returned to their wards and laughter could be heard as beds were wheeled and wheelchairs pushed. One of the doctors, dressed as Father Christmas, toured the wards, dispensing small gifts to each patient. Paper hats were worn and the banter among the patients and the staff caused much merriment.

  ‘Where’s the mistletoe, Sister?’ called out one of the patients. ‘I was hoping for a Christmas kiss!’

  Helen laughed and shook her finger at him. ‘Now, don’t be naughty – you a married man, too.’

  ‘I won’t tell if you don’t!’ he called out.

  Helen walked on shaking her head, but she was delighted by the happy atmosphere because these men had been through so much and many still had very difficult days ahead of them and, for some, the rest of their lives would be severely impaired.

  In the mess the medical staff who were not on duty gathered for their Christmas fare. Silly hats were worn, the odd bottle of beer and bottle of wine procured from unknown sources as is always the way during wartime, where some bright spark would discover someone with a secret hoard willing to sell for a price. After the meal, tables and chairs were moved to make room for dancing, all arranged by the female staff who were determined to make the most of the holiday.

  Helen was dancing with Richard, who was saying how well the church service went and how great it was for the patients, when suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder.

  ‘Sorry, old man, but I’m cutting in!’ James Havers neatly took Helen into his arms and danced her away.

  ‘James! How marvellous to see you,’ she exclaimed. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘What a ridiculous question, I’ve come to see you, of course!’ He drew her closer. ‘God, Helen, you feel good, I’m so relieved to have found you all in one piece.’

  She started laughing. ‘You are an extraordinary man. You turn up out of the blue without any warning. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’

  ‘I couldn’t because I wasn’t sure I could make it, but in the end I managed to get some leave and here I am.’ He looked at her with a sudden frown. ‘I do hope you’re pleased to see me? I don’t want to barge in at the wrong time.’

  Shaking her head she smiled at him. ‘Oh, James, I couldn’t have wished for a nicer Christmas gift.’

  He beamed with delight. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Before she knew what was happening, James had rushed her outside, taken her into his arms and kissed her. His hands held her firmly, but tenderly, against him.

  Helen, carried away by the surprise and so happy to see he was still alive, just relaxed in his arms and returned his kisses, until they were both breathless.

  He gazed at her in the shaft of light from the moon. ‘You have no idea, Sister Helen Chalmers, just how I’ve longed for this moment.’

  Eventually the cold air drove them back inside and leading Helen onto the dance floor, James held her close, his head against hers as they danced to a waltz, and when the music stopped he led her to a quiet corner.

  ‘There were times when I thought I would never see you again,’ he confessed, ‘but thankfully we have both been spared and you look wonderful.’

  Helen could see from the dark circles under his eyes, the loss of weight and the drawn expression that would occasionally cross his features, that her friend had been through hell. ‘Was it really bad at Cambrai?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, it was never good, but this time we were able to make use of the tanks, which made a deal of difference. I didn’t lose so many men and that was a relief, as you can imagine, but it certainly wasn’t a bed of roses. How’s it been for you?’

  ‘Busy, there are still too many casualties, but at least here we have better facilities to cope with and that makes a huge difference.’

  ‘How’s the captain treating you?’

  Helen felt her cheeks flush. ‘Fine. Richard is a good surgeon and we have a good team working with us.’

  ‘Any chance of you being shipped home in the near future?’

  Shaking her head she said, ‘Not as far as I know.’

  He stroked her hair. ‘Pity. I would feel so much better if I knew you were safe and sound.’

  ‘You shouldn’t worry about me, James. I’m not your responsibility,’ she said jokingly.

  ‘I know, but I’d like you to be.’

  She gazed at him and saw that he was being serious. Seeing her consternation, he spoke again.

  ‘Ever since we said goodbye I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. The fact that you might be in danger from the enemy is a constant worry to me. You see, Helen, I do believe I’m falling in love with you.’

  ‘But, James, you hardly know me!’

  He held her hand. ‘I know. Crazy, isn’t it, but I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.’

  Helen was
completely nonplussed and speechless. She had been delighted to see James and was attracted to him, but this was a complete surprise. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  His eyes twinkled. ‘But tell me honestly, do you have any feelings for me at all? Am I barking up the wrong tree altogether or is there some hope that you could possibly love me … just a little bit?’ He held up his thumb and first finger, showing a small measure. ‘Even just that much?’

  She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You really are outrageous.’ But she knew beneath the banter he meant it. ‘I do like you very much, James, but we don’t know one another. I would need time spent with you, to get to know you, away from the war. You know as well as I do, wars can muddy the waters when it comes down to relationships. In civilian life it’s very different.’

  He looked pleased at her response. ‘Well at least you haven’t kicked me out and that’s a hell of a relief.’

  She rose to her feet. ‘Come on, we’d better dance or people will begin to talk.’

  As they walked onto the floor, James said, ‘I’m staying nearby at a small hotel I’ve found that’s still open, albeit in reduced circumstances, but I’m here for four more days before I have to start back. Can you get any time off?’

  Knowing that this wasn’t possible, she said, ‘Only between shifts, I would think – an afternoon, maybe, if I’m on duty early, and in the evenings when I’ve finished, but that’s all.’

  ‘I’ll take what I can get,’ he said as they arrived back and joined the throng.

  Across the room, Helen saw Richard looking over towards them with a thunderous expression on his face. He turned sharply away.

  Chapter Four

  The following morning in the operating theatre, the atmosphere was decidedly frosty. The rest of the team, not knowing of the relationship between the surgeon and theatre sister, were puzzled. Richard was abrupt with everyone and when eventually the shift was over, it was with a certain feeling of relief for all, especially Helen.

  As the last patient was wheeled away to a ward, Richard was writing up his notes and giving instructions to Helen about the patient’s medication and further treatment. She picked up the file and went to walk away.

  ‘So, your boyfriend looks well,’ he said with a note of sarcasm.

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ she protested, ‘just a friend.’

  ‘Really? It looked more than that to me when you finally emerged from your sudden exit. You were very quick to leave my arms and go to his!’

  Helen was embarrassed because he spoke the truth, but it angered her too, because he made her sound like a loose woman and she wasn’t. She’d only kissed James, that was all. She glared at him and walked away, her mind in a whirl.

  It had been a hard day for Nurse Jenny Palmer. So many patients to care for in a full ward where the metal beds were lined up in three rows, to allow for as many patients as possible, but in one corner lay a soldier who had been in a gas attack. Jenny had to give him oxygen every hour for five minutes to help him breathe and then spray his throat. He was drenched in perspiration as he fought for breath and he could hardly speak. She would be as gentle as she could, talking softly to him as she cared for his needs, but it upset her to see him suffer so. She knew he had but a number of hours before the end.

  He would plead with the nurses to sit with him and they all did when they could find a minute to do so as it was obvious the man was scared of being alone. It was really the only other thing they could do for him. Jenny had vowed the man would not die without someone to comfort him and that night instead of going off duty, she sat with him, holding his hand, talking softly to him until he drew his last breath. Then she went to her room and cried.

  She sobbed until she was exhausted. All her pent-up feelings had at last come to the fore. Despite being professional, she could only take so much. She railed to herself about the futility of war. She’d seen so many good men maimed and for what? Lives had been lost unnecessarily … and for what? She put on her cape, left her room and walked outside to get some air. Air that didn’t smell of ether and disinfectant.

  It was a cold, crisp night with a clear sky. She gazed up, looking at the stars.

  ‘You alright, Jenny?’

  She spun round and saw Corporal Harry Gibbs, one of the orderlies, standing next to her.

  Shaking her head she said, ‘Frankly, no!’ Her voice choked with emotion she asked, ‘How much longer can the war go on?’

  He lit a cigarette. ‘I wish I knew, love, I wish I knew. Here, have a fag, you’ll feel better.’

  They stood together silently, neither speaking until she said, ‘I don’t know just how much more I can take, Harry.’

  ‘I ask myself that daily, Jenny, but I go back to my ward because those poor buggers need me. They need you and everyone else. We have a duty to care for them, you know that as well as I do and because you do, you’ll be on duty until it’s all over. Then we’ll really have something to celebrate.’

  Stubbing out her cigarette she said, ‘You’re right, of course. I was just having a bad moment.’

  ‘You’re allowed, love, you’re allowed. It helps to get it out of the system now and again, that’s what keeps us sane. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.’

  Jenny thanked him when they reached her room.

  ‘It’s alright, love. Try and get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.’

  She undressed and climbed into bed, feeling mentally and physically drained.

  The next morning she was back on duty, doing the rounds as usual, remembering Harry’s comment. He was right, of course, they had a duty to care for their patients, that was their job, and if she was honest it was a lot better than being on the battlefield as her patients had been.

  Harry walked past her, wheeling a patient back to his bed. He smiled and winked at her. ‘You alright, Nurse Palmer?’

  ‘Yes, Harry, fine thanks.’

  ‘That’s the ticket,’ he said and carried on.

  Later that morning she accompanied Richard as he did his rounds, checking on his patients. She was a little in awe of him. He had an air of superiority about him, but she knew he was a brilliant surgeon – she’d seen the results of his work and so was full of admiration too. She was surprised when at the end of his rounds he stopped her as she was about to walk away.

  ‘I hear you spent last night with the young man who was gassed, that was kind of you.’

  She looked at him in surprise.

  He smiled softly. ‘Nothing is hidden in a hospital, Nurse, but I want to thank you for being with him until the end. No one wants to die alone.’ He walked away before she could speak.

  That evening after her shift, Helen met James and they found a small cafe where they sat and chatted whilst eating an acceptable meal and drinking wine.

  He grinned as he picked up his glass.

  ‘The French would die rather than be without any of this … thank heavens. How’s your day been?’

  ‘Much as any other,’ she replied. ‘Every day is the same, really, that’s why we’re here. I just wish the war was over, that for once the men at the top on both sides would realise it was all a waste of time and lives.’

  ‘We can only hope that doesn’t take too long,’ he said. ‘I’ve lost too many good men.’

  After their meal, they took a walk along the harbour. Even here, they couldn’t escape the war. A ship had just docked and soldiers were making their way down the gangway. None of them looked happy. On many a face Helen saw the fear she recognised so well, the uncertainty, and the male ego, which was trying to cover such feelings, men desperately trying to be brave in front of their comrades. Behind them, cargo was being unloaded, cranes lifting heavy crates from the hold. Lorries waited to take the goods away. But at least here, there was no sound of gunfire.

  ‘You know what upsets me as much as anything?’ James suddenly asked.

  ‘No, what’s that?’

  ‘The bloated corpses of the dead
horses. It makes me think of home and Cleo, my own horse. So many officers brought their own mounts to the battlefield, they must have been devastated to lose their friend, because that’s what your mount becomes. They do everything you ask of them and it breaks my heart to see them abandoned.’

  Helen remembered seeing such things and how upset she had been. ‘They don’t have time to dispose of them,’ she said. ‘If they fall in fighting their rider has to move on.’

  ‘I know, but often they have to put a bullet in the head of the animal to put them out of their suffering. I hate it!’

  She didn’t have the words to comfort him and they slowly walked back to the hospital.

  ‘I’m off duty for a couple of hours only, tomorrow afternoon,’ Helen told James, ‘not long enough to do anything I’m afraid, so feel free to go off somewhere.’

  He declined. ‘I’ll still come over. I’ll try and rustle up some sandwiches and we can perhaps get a cup of tea in the mess, if you like, of course?’

  ‘That’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there at four o’clock.’

  James leant forward and kissed her. ‘Take care, Helen – until tomorrow, then.’

  As he walked away, James sighed. Today had been so good, just walking and talking. He hoped and prayed that he would survive the war so that he and Helen could continue to meet, which would give him time and opportunity to convince her that a life with him would be happy and one she was willing to share, but he knew that it was all in the lap of the gods. It was the only thing that kept him going during his worst moments. He saw a bar and walked in and ordered a drink.

  The last day of James’s leave arrived, and although the time seemed to have flown and the two had only been able to be together for a few hours each day, they had enjoyed each other’s company. For Helen, to get away from the hospital and all things medical had been therapeutic: James was so easy to talk to and she was growing fond of him.