by Terri Meeker
“Perhaps not,” the matron replied. She drummed her fingers on her desktop as she narrowed her eyes toward Lily. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“Well, I should refuse, ma’am.”
Matron Marshall crossed her arms over her ample chest. “And why is that?”
“Because I’m needed here,” Lily replied. “We’re having great success with my respiratory unit and I should like to remain. I signed up to help the men, not to hide away in London.”
Lily should have known better than to expect something like approval from the matron, but she was shocked at the look of derision the woman was sending her way.
“Then you are an idiot,” Matron Marshall said.
“What?”
“You heard me. I’d thought many things of you before now. You are proud, stubborn and far too willing to bend the rules. But you’ve never before struck me as a fool.”
“I’m a fool because I don’t wish to shirk my duty?”
“You’re a fool because you’re blind to the big picture. You’re like a general who insists on staying in the trenches with the lads instead of climbing up to where he can better direct the battle. You want to change things, Miss Curtis, to make a real difference with all your blood typing nonsense and modern ideas, the place to do that would be with Dr. Raye at RAMC HQ.”
The matron shook her head. She rifled through the sheets of paper, then signed her name at the bottom.
“Ma’am?” Lily asked.
“I’m approving your transfer.” The matron did not look up. “It is the best place for you, whether or not you can see that now.”
Lily felt pulled in several directions at once. And though she felt anchored to her duties, another current pulled her toward London, toward a chance to enact real change at Dr. Raye’s side. Toward Sam.
Lily leaned down and squeezed Matron Marshall’s hand. The woman jumped a little in response and gave Lily a startled glance.
“Then, ma’am, since I don’t have any choice in the matter, I should thank you.” Lily gave her a warm smile.
“Well, yes.” Matron Marshall looked back at her papers, clearly uncomfortable with the familiarity. She thrust them toward Lily.
“Off with you now. You do know where to file these, don’t you?” The edge of the matron’s mouth curved up. If Lily didn’t know better, she’d think the matron was smiling, or trying to. Her lips seemed unaccustomed to the sensation and twitched nervously.
“I do know where to file them, ma’am,” Lily said as she turned to leave. “I may be an idiot, but I believe there’s hope for me yet.”
Just as Lily closed the door behind her, she heard something that sounded like a chuckle. She didn’t turn around and risk spoiling the illusion.
Lily’s boots crunched along the gravel pathway of the small park near her office. She often took her lunch hour there. Though the park was deep in a winter sleep, there was something comforting about the open spaces and the trees lining the avenues. The cold February air turned her breath into puffy little clouds, which reminded her of the steam of the hospital trains that used to be such a part of her life just a few months ago.
She’d been in London for nearly two months. Settled in at her new job and ensconced in a one bedroom apartment—she should have been quite content at her new lot in life. She kicked idly at the gravel as she walked. Funny that no matter where she went, no matter what activity she engaged in, she found her mind returning to New Bedlam, to Rose, to Gordy and to Sam.
She’d tried to write to Sam with the news about her transfer to London, but whenever she set pen to paper, she sounded so desperate, so clingy, that she ended up scrunching the paper into an angry wad. Sam had always been earnest to do the right thing and be a man of his word that he’d honor any wartime promise, no matter how foolishly given.
Sam’s letters to her were forwarded at first, but they took longer now as they were routed through France. They still held a vaguely formal tone, but now began to ask why Lily hadn’t written, in the most considerate way he could manage. His attempts at appearing casual felt like a knife in her heart. Haven’t heard from you in a while. You must be terribly busy. And If you have a moment, I’d love to get a line or two from you.
She couldn’t write to him. Her apparent thoughtlessness might seem unkind, but what alternative did she have? Forcing him to continue a relationship out of a sense of duty would be far worse—for both of them. Waiting was the best thing to do in the long run of things. No matter how much her heart might be aching.
Two weeks ago, she’d received an unusually thick envelope from him. Instead of writing about his farm, this time he’d written about his new job. He’d accepted a position with something called the War Agriculture Executive Committees where he would be assessing which crops were needed for the war effort and coordinating efforts to mobilize farmers to better supply the troops. As self-depreciating as ever, he insisted that this mostly translated to telling farmers ‘more potatoes.’ Lily smiled while reading it. Dear, sweet Sam, finally making a real difference at last. In closing, instead of hinting that he’d like to hear from her, he ended by wishing her well. He thanked her and extended his hope that she have a happy life.
He hadn’t come right out and said it, but the letter sounded very much like goodbye. She’d cried for an hour.
She received no further letters from Sam.
Lily blinked back the tears that formed whenever she thought about him. She walked past a cement pool that she assumed must have held a fountain in warmer weather. It was much fancier than the little cistern out in back of New Bedlam. She gave a sad smile which she carefully hid with the back of her hand.
It was good he was getting on with his life. She was doing the same.
Despite the wreck she’d made of any chance of happiness with Sam, her efforts at RAMC been going extremely well. Dr. Raye had been right, and she begrudgingly had to admit, the matron had been right as well. Being at Headquarters meant pushing forward for real changes that would impact the lives of thousands of wounded men.
While Dr. Raye worked with innovating sterilization techniques, he’d left Lily alone to pursue her passion: standardized blood typing procedures. She spent most of her waking hours on the task, staying at the office long after most of her colleagues had returned home. As it turned out, her years spent as her father’s nurse proved to be key to approaching the higher ups with a new procedure. Since the RAMC was staffed with men of science, Lily convinced them with the one thing they couldn’t resist: thick medical journals of unassailable facts. They had no choice but to agree that they needed to change their approach regarding transfusions. Once she had them on board with the need for innovation, the rest of the process fell into place. She wrote up a simple, standardized procedure and researched how to requisition the supplies.
By the end, she had two sets of blood typing to recommend—a complete typing kit for base hospitals, and a more basic unit which could be utilized for field hospitals and dressing stations. She also wrote a manual for training staff and standardizing the procedure.
Her work had been exhausting but extremely rewarding. The late hours hadn’t quite been enough to pull her mind from Sam, but it left her drained enough to find sleep every night. And to ease her heartache, she had the comfort of knowing her efforts would make a real difference for the Tommies in the trenches. At last she could save lives instead of playing God in triage.
Sweet Rose would have been so proud of her.
Lily smiled wistfully and made her way out of the park. Lunch hour was over and it was time to get on with her duty. Time to do what she must. She walked along the wide London avenue, feeling a thousand miles away from the war that once was.
Chapter Thirty-One
The waiter placed their order in front of the couple: two bowls of thin beef soup and a slice of bread. Sam supposed it was the best fare they c
ould expect with rationing on. Evie smiled up at the waiter and thanked him.
His little sister stirred her soup thoughtfully as she peered into the bowl. “Oh, look,” she said excitedly. “I think I found a bit of meat!” She smiled, her dimples winking. He was grateful for them—her dimples. They were a remnant of her childhood. When he’d left her for the Western Front, she’d only been eighteen and still had that layer of childhood plumpness about her cheeks. When he’d returned from the war, his sister had gone and turned twenty and grown into a beautiful young woman. With her long, curly black hair and bright blue eyes, every man in the restaurant kept sneaking glimpses at her, much to Sam’s supreme discomfort.
“So, why’d you come all the way up to London, then? It’s about time you told me, I think.”
Evie blinked at him, then took a large bite of bread which rendered her incapable of conversation. As she chewed, she gave Sam her best innocent look.
“It’s not bad news about Baden, is it?”
“Oh, no. As far as I know he’s fine. He writes to you more than anyone back on the farm, anyway.” She tilted her head toward him. “You did go ahead and send him Father’s lucky totem didn’t you?”
Sam nodded. “Just as I promised. Sent it to him last week.” He failed to add that he wasn’t entirely certain if the strange stone bore a blessing or a curse. And now wasn’t the time for such speculations. “So why did you come then? Is it Lady P?”
Evie’s expression went serious in an instant. She shook her head and swallowed. “We’ve had no luck at all with Bad’s infernal contraption.”
“You’ve tried baiting it with her favorite foods?”
“I’ve tried everything I could find. I wish strawberries were in season.” Evie smiled wistfully. “Remember how she loved strawberries?”
“I remember that she rooted up Mum’s garden and Father chased her around the barn with a shotgun while you shouted your head off,” Sam said. “Are you entirely sure we’re having the same memory?”
Evie nodded. “Old Mrs. Williams thought she saw her last week. Did I tell you? Said she looked like she’d lost weight. She might be down to four hundred pounds by now.”
Sam smiled, picturing the stunned expression on Lily’s face if she’d read that in a letter.
“It’s not funny.” Evie gave him a wounded look.
“Forgive me, Evie. My mind was elsewhere for a moment. And I do believe that Lady P will be all right. She’s a tough old girl, you know.”
Evie took another bite of bread and chewed thoughtfully. “Your mind is often elsewhere, Sam.”
Sam nodded. He could hardly argue with Evie over that point.
“It’s why I took the trip up to London to see you today,” Evie said.
“You’re finally coming to it.” Sam leaned forward. “Out with it then.”
Evie hesitated.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Sam asked. “Is it Father? He’s been doing too much again, hasn’t he? I was afraid he’d start in trying to mend the south pasture fences the moment I moved away.”
“It’s not Father. It’s good news, actually. Wonderful news.” Evie’s smile faded a bit. “But first I need your promise that you won’t kill me.”
Sam rubbed his forehead. “Wonderful news doesn’t normally come with a disclaimer regarding murder, dear sister.”
Evie reached into her purse and fished out a letter. She ran a finger along the edge, hesitating for a moment, before placing it in front of her, face up.
Immediately he felt a shock of alarm and a slight violation. Had Evie been reading his mail? Glancing at the address he could see it was addressed to Miss Evelyn Dwight. He glanced at the return address. Lieutenant Gordon Robbins.
Oh dear.
“And why has Gordy been writing to you?”
Evie nudged the letter toward him, a forced smile on her lips. “He was answering my letter to him, of course.”
“And why did you write to him, or do I even want to know?”
“To find out what’s become of Lily Curtis.” Evie swallowed.
Sam’s heartbeat stuttered at the mention of Lily’s name. He dropped his gaze to the letter, but couldn’t quite bring himself to pick it up.
After a few long moments, Evie finally spoke. “Don’t you want to read it?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t suppose I need to read the thing. I know what’s in it.”
Evie gave a most unladylike snort. “I hardly think you do.”
“Why don’t you tell me then, since you’re so keen to meddle in my affairs?” Sam folded his arms.
“Gordy says that Lily has been reassigned.”
“Oh no. I suppose that dratted matron had her drummed out for some reason or another. She was always so ridiculously harsh with Lily.”
“That’s not quite it. It seems Lily was given a promotion, of sorts.” A smile crept back onto Evie’s lips.
“Go on then. Unless you enjoy dragging this out.”
“I rather do, Sam. It’s wonderful to see you so smitten.”
“I am not…smitten. I’m curious about what’s happened with Miss Curtis.”
“Please, and now you’re calling her ‘Miss Curtis’ all of a sudden?”
Sam gritted his teeth. When had his baby sister turned into such a formidable opponent?
“So what’s become of Lily, then?” he asked at last.
“She’s been reassigned to the Royal Army Medical Corps right here in London.”
Lily was here? Now? In London?
Sam couldn’t think of a word to say in response. His silence only seemed to encourage Evie.
“She’s been here for about six weeks. She’s working with Dr. Raye on all types of…eh, well, Gordy didn’t really understand it very well. Something to do with mixing blood together. It sounded terribly modern but a little bit gory.” Evie beamed a wide grin at him. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Certainly. Wonderful. I’m quite in favor of modern medical techniques.”
“Not that, you big sheep.” Evie rolled her eyes. “The fact that Lily is nearby!”
Sam shook his head. “I’m happy that she’s out of danger and of course I’m pleased that she’s able to do such important work, but I really don’t see what this has to do with me.”
Evie widened her eyes. “Oh, Baden was so right about you.”
Sam glared at her.
“You need to go and see her! She’s at Queen Alexandria Hospital in Millbank—not ten minutes walk from here.”
“Oh, no I don’t. You don’t fully understand. You don’t know what really happened while I was hospitalized.”
Killer.
Evie gave another snort, sounding a great deal like her rogue pig. “I don’t need to. I’ve read her letters to you. She loves you. And after all those months mooning around the farm for her, I know you love her too.”
Sam laughed bitterly. “She’s right here in England for all this time and didn’t contact me. Didn’t even have the courtesy to write a letter to me and tell me where she’d gone. This is a most peculiar way of demonstrating that she loves me.”
Evie tilted her head to one side as she gathered her thoughts. “What was she supposed to do? Show up at the farm one day?”
“She could have bloody well told me that she’d been transferred to London!” He felt a momentary wave of shame at cursing in front of his sister. “By not doing so, I can only assume that her feelings have changed. I certainly couldn’t blame her for that.”
“Her feelings have changed?” Evie gave him a disgusted look. “Sam, she undoubtedly thinks that you are the one with changed feelings. Especially when you consider your letters to her.”
“My letters to her? I wrote to her!”
“Well, I know that. I helped you write most of them.”
“What was wrong
with my letters?”
Evie tilted her head toward him. “The thing is, Sam, you were very…polite. Very formal.”
“I could hardly be anything else. You do realize that all mail is seen by censors. I shouldn’t wish for someone to read anything that might compromise Lily in any way.”
“Well, I understand that. I do. It’s just that Lily might not. And when your letters to her sound like the sort of thing one might write to a maiden aunt. I shouldn’t wonder if Lily might have thought you’d lost interest in her.”
“Nonsense. I gave her my word of honor.”
“Word of honor.” Evie shook her head. “Sounds like you’re joining the army. It’s not very romantic.”
The waiter appeared, casting a lingering gaze in Evie’s direction before turning to Sam. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Yes, thank you” Sam muttered, grateful for the respite in conversation. He pulled out his ration card and a few bills and handed them to the man.
After the waiter departed, neither Sam nor Evie spoke for a while.
Evie reached across the table and grasped his hands. “Sam, if it were me, I’d be shy about telling you I was in London too.”
“Truly?”
Evie nodded, her black curls springing with the movement. “She cares for you. I know she does. Gordy knows she does. Everybody in the world knows—except you.”
Sam interrupted, raising a warning finger. “Don’t compare me to livestock again.”
“What you need to do is woo her a little bit.”
“Woo her?” Sam repeated numbly. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the night Gordy had manipulated Lily and him into a moonlit tryst in the back garden.
“Yes, exactly,” Evie enthused. “What you need to do is stop by the florist and—”
“Stop, right there.” Sam pointed his finger at her.
Evie gave him an annoyed look.
“I’m perfectly capable of doing my own wooing.”
“Finally.” Evie bounced a little in her chair.
“I mean it. It was bad enough to endure coaching from Gordy and Baden. I draw the line at my little sister.” Sam stood and straightened his officer’s tunic.
