So now she was going to ask me again to pretend she’d stopped to do some shopping and I came home with a headache, just so she could go find Thomas in his camp. I should have known. She would get me in trouble for sure.
We stopped at a market stall with baskets hung from a thin frame that held up a flimsy cloth tent. The baskets swayed in the wind, making a dry, rustling sound. It was an eerie noise, and I shivered.
“Moll?” Emma prodded me, taking hold of my shoulders and turning me toward her. I didn’t want to look away from the stall. It seemed to be empty. That was odd. Merchants often reached out to draw you in, already starting to bargain until the price they originally said was halved by the time you reached the next stall and the next merchant. “Is something the matter?”
I didn’t exactly feel ill, but the market suddenly seemed very far away from me. I turned back to the stall with the baskets and realized that I’d looked right past the proprietor, an old woman who sat in the back, her fingers working like the wind as she fashioned another reed basket. Her eyes were a startling jewel green and her skin was lined like old leather. She wasn’t looking at what she was doing, just staring straight at me, like she knew me. She began to talk to me, but her lips didn’t move. I heard the “shushing” sounds of Turkish, but somehow I understood everything she was saying, as if her words went directly into my heart.
“You have a gift. I see it in you. Rare in the West, but not unheard of. Use it well. You are a healer.”
That was all she said, and as soon as she finished I was back to myself, standing next to Emma, who was shaking me.
“Molly! Molly! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just felt a little queer all of a sudden. I’m better now.”
She let out her breath like she’d been holding it. “Phew. I thought you’d been bewitched or something. It’s strange here. Let’s go.”
We continued on to find the wool for Mrs. Drake, and as I suspected, Emma asked me to go back without her so she could visit Thomas quickly in his camp.
“Oh no, Emma! No one will believe me again.”
“You have to do this for me. He’ll be shipping out soon. Just one last time?”
Of course I said yes. I wondered if Emma ever realized that she wouldn’t be the only one to get into trouble if she was found out, which she was bound to be eventually.
That was a week before Miss Nightingale made her announcement about our new restrictions. The old merchant lady’s words had haunted me since then, and I sometimes woke up after dreaming of her green eyes, like a tiger’s, following me around the hospital.
“What am I going to do?” Emma whispered as we ate our supper in the common room that evening. “I’m supposed to meet Thomas tonight. He’s off back to the front tomorrow.”
So the time had really come. And instead of waiting to walk into the market, Emma decided to risk sneaking out at night. “I don’t know. It’s a terrible chance to take. You could lose your position.”
“You’ve got to help me, Moll,” she whispered. “I’ll die if I can’t give Thomas a proper good-bye tonight.”
“What can I do? If you get caught, we’ll both get the sack.”
She leaned in close and spoke into my ear. “If you do this for me, I won’t say a word about you and that Dr. Maclean.”
I pulled away from her. “There’s nothing to tell,” I said.
“Then why did your face just go a lovely shade of red?”
Yes, why did it? “It’s just that you embarrass me with your suspicions.”
In spite of the fact I knew it was the wrong thing to do, I gave in and agreed to help Emma steal out that night.
We waited until everyone was asleep and Miss Nightingale had gone up to her own room. She always checked on us when we weren’t doing round-the-clock shifts. It struck me that she was up above us in the tower like a hen with her chicks tucked beneath her feathers. But Emma had sprouted wings. Nothing could keep her in the coop.
“No one’ll notice I’m gone if we just bunch up the blankets like I’m sleeping here still.”
I didn’t really think the trick would fool anyone, but I suspected that almost all the other nurses who weren’t nuns or sisters had their own secrets to hide and would hardly turn Emma in. Fortunately, the weather was cold but dry. “Leave the door unlocked and don’t wait up,” she said, kissing me quickly on the cheek before darting off toward the tents of the army camp.
I was asleep so I didn’t know what time Emma came back, but she was in her bed by morning. I had to shake her hard to get her to wake up and she yawned all through our shift at the hospital.
When I came back for tea before evening rounds, there was a letter waiting for me. I knew it could only be from one person, since my mum didn’t know how to write. I’d not written to Will since that first time, knowing from his letter to me that he wouldn’t be in London. At least that’s what I told myself was the reason. I took the envelope off the table where messages and letters were left for us and went in to my bed to read it.
Dear Molly,
You’ll never believe it. I’m here! In Scutari. I wanted to come to the hospital to see you but they said we weren’t allowed to go there unless we needed to see a doctor. I’m in the camp, not too far away. We’ll be shipping off to Balaclava tomorrow. I’d sure like to see you. Can you find a way?
Will
Will. Here. So near! My heart did a little bump in my chest and I started breathing a bit quicker. But a moment later icy tendrils of guilt crept through my veins. What would I say to him? To be honest with myself, I hadn’t thought about him much recently. Instead, the face that floated into my mind unbidden was Dr. Maclean’s. I told myself it was because of the work, because Dr. Maclean and I had shared so much lately. But I knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Dr. Maclean’s kind eyes and soft voice refused to leave me, even when days passed and I didn’t see him. There was something in them, something a little frightening and dangerous, like they could make me do something I never thought of before.
It was different with Will. He made me feel safe. Something about him wasn’t simply familiar, it was home. Yet now, after everything I’d been through and seen here in Scutari, I wasn’t the same parlormaid who let someone trick her into being fired, who didn’t have the courage to speak up for herself. I would have done it all so differently if I had it to do over again.
But the fact remained: Will was here. Had he changed at all since I last saw him? All at once, I pictured him in my mind, bloodied and unconscious, being triaged and treated at the Barrack Hospital. All those other young men, so many who died or were maimed for life—any one of them could be Will. This was no time to let my fancy run off with my heart. I knew then and there that I would do whatever I had to in order to see Will before he left. Emma had got away with it. She would cover for me. She would have to. I prayed there would be no ships bringing wounded and sick men to the hospital in the next day. Usually we knew by telegraph and then someone saw them far out to sea and sent word, and there had been none recently. I owed it to Will to try.
And I had his money! He would be proud of me for paying him back. Although it now seemed insignificant in a way. What would he do with money at the front? Maybe he’d be able to buy better food than what he’d get in his rations.
“Fraser, what are you doing in here all alone?”
I jumped and crumpled Will’s letter in my hand. Miss Nightingale appeared from nowhere, it seemed, although she must have simply walked across from her quarters and I just didn’t hear her. “I got a letter,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else to tell her.
“Not bad news, I hope?” she said. She walked toward me and stood near, taking a quick glance at the watch she kept at her waist.
“No. At least, not yet.”
“Not yet?” Now, instead of just that passing interest she often showed when her mind was caught up with some project, she looked into my eyes with the full force of hers. She had complicated eyes. You never kne
w exactly what she was thinking, or you saw in them so many different things that didn’t make sense all together like that. Now whatever I’d said meant I would have to answer her.
“It’s my friend Will. I used to work with him in service. He lent me the money to get to Folkestone, and now he’s here, in Scutari. Going to Balaclava tomorrow, to the front.”
Miss Nightingale walked closer. “Is this Will … a sweetheart of yours?”
Was he? Not really. At least, I didn’t know for sure, especially now when I thought about Dr. Maclean. But he’d helped me more than a friend ever would. And he’d kissed me once. And I liked it. But did that mean he was my sweetheart?
“Molly? Are you certain everything is all right?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Will’s not my sweetheart. He’s just a good sort. And I’d like to pay him back the money I owe him now, just in case …” I couldn’t finish the thought.
“Would you like permission for him to visit you here, in the common room, with a chaperone?”
I’d not even thought such a thing was possible. It would solve so many problems and make everything easy for me. “Could he?” Relief washed over me.
“Send him a note with one of the Turkish servants and tell him that he may visit at eight o’clock this evening, for one hour.”
She looked at her watch again and hurried away before I had a chance to thank her. Would this start something with the others? Most of the nurses were too old to have sweethearts, although Emma had told me some of them did things with the healthier men on their rounds that made me blush to think about. Maybe having a visitor would give the others ideas, though, and we’d have all sorts of men coming in to sit and drink tea.
Whatever might happen because of it, there was no time to waste. I wrote a note as quickly as I could—my reading had got much faster, but I didn’t have to write often so I wasn’t in practice—and sent one of the boys to the army camp with it. I went off to my evening shift in the strangest mood. I was happy and anxious at the same time. I wanted to see Will and yet I dreaded it. Once I gave him back his money, I wouldn’t be in debt to him anymore. Or would I? I worried that Will would expect something more from me. I was afraid I’d disappoint him, just as I’d disappointed my mum. I spent the time until he came that evening wondering what I would say, how he would act. It almost spoiled the pleasure of looking forward to seeing the first familiar face in weeks.
Chapter 18
I sat with my back to the door, across the table from Mrs. Drake, whom Miss Nightingale asked to chaperone the visit. She had her knitting with her, I assumed so she’d have something else to look at besides us. Everyone seemed to think that Will and I meeting would be romantic. The more I said it wasn’t so, the more they teased me.
“You just don’t mind me,” Mrs. Drake said. “A young girl should have beaus, even if she’s a nurse with Miss Nightingale.”
I started to protest again but decided not to bother when she winked at me for the tenth time that day. It was no use, and now I’d be blushing when Will arrived, which might give him the wrong idea.
So I sat there, not saying anything, just listening to the click-click of Mrs. Drake’s knitting needles for what seemed an age. At last I heard the door open, and saw Will’s arrival reflected in Mrs. Drake’s face. She smiled at him. I didn’t turn around until I heard his voice.
“I’m here to see Molly Fraser.”
I don’t know why it was his voice that first touched me. I stood up and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck and enjoying the feeling of his strong arms squeezing me back. After a moment, when I thought maybe he would try to kiss me, I took hold of his shoulders and pushed away from him. “Let me look at you. You’re just the same. Different uniform, though. I think this one suits you better.” He seemed taller and straighter, and his shoulders a little broader. I didn’t think he could have grown. Maybe my own memory had faded.
“You look … well,” Will said. “I mean, very pretty but older.”
“It’s been hard. Come and sit with me. Fancy some tea?”
He shook his head no. He didn’t sit but crushed his hat in his hands, looking at Mrs. Drake.
“Oh, this is Nurse Drake. She has to stay with us. It’s a rule.”
“Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m just for show.” She winked at me again. Now that she’d seen me greet Will so warmly the news would be all over in no time.
Will and I took two chairs a little away from Mrs. Drake. “What happened after I left? Why did you decide to join up?” I wanted him to talk about facts, solid things.
“I couldn’t stand how they talked about you after you left, and that I couldn’t defend you without making them think we were in on it all together. So I saw an advertisement in the paper that they needed more soldiers to fight in Russia, and I thought if you were brave enough to come, then I could be too.”
I would have said that it didn’t require bravery to be so far away from the front lines, but in my heart I knew it did. Bravery to watch men die, or recover as pale shadows of themselves. “I’ve seen many horrible things here,” I said. “Promise me you’ll be careful? Don’t take chances you don’t have to.”
“Do you care what happens to me? Truly?” He reached for my hand. I didn’t have the heart to pull it away, but I couldn’t help feeling his touch on top of the place Dr. Maclean had kissed. I felt like a traitor.
“You know I do, Will. You’re my only friend.” Even as I said the words I could feel the effect they had on him.
“Friend? Is that it then? I wouldn’t have done all I did for just a friend. You must know, Moll.”
I took my hand away, resisting the urge to rub the spot on my wrist that now burned like a brand.
I didn’t understand why I felt that way. It wasn’t like Dr. Maclean had been as kind as Will, and I didn’t know him, really. But I never before felt the way I did when Dr. Maclean looked at me. And a shock went right through me when he touched me. Now, I didn’t dare look into Will’s eyes, afraid he’d be able to read everything I was thinking and he’d hate me for it.
“I saw your mum before I left. She said to tell you she misses you, but not to worry. Young Ted has been making money at the docks.” His voice was still gentle, but I could hear the longing in it, like what he was saying wasn’t the same as what he meant.
And talking about my mum and Ted—it brought them right up to me like they were there, inside Will’s heart. Touching him linked me to them. I reached out to him again. “Was she cross? About me going away?”
Will covered my hand with both of his. They were large and callused and warm. He smiled. “Not cross at all. She’s very proud of what you’re doing.”
“Did you tell her—”
“No. There was no need for her to know what wasn’t true anyway. But Molly, do you really just think of me as your friend?”
He leaned forward and lifted my chin so I had to look into his eyes. They were that clear, honest blue I remembered so well, a color that made me trust him, like they were letting me peer right inside his heart. And I knew they were searching mine for an answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “Things were so upside down when I left.” It was as close to the truth as I could get.
He nodded and leaned back, relaxing his hold on me. “And you’re so young.”
I shook my head the tiniest bit, trying to send him a message that no one knew exactly how young I was, that Miss Nightingale thought I was at least nineteen. “Old enough to be a nurse,” I said, trying to turn it into a joke.
“Not old enough to be married, though.” He fixed me with his gaze again, leaning so close that he couldn’t look at both my eyes at the same time but had to flick back and forth from one to the other. I had to force myself not to cast my eyes down again, to escape from the question that I knew was coming but I wasn’t ready for. “When this is over, will you think about it? Will you, Moll?”
Marry Will. It was a crazy thought, half pleasing and half terrifying. Why wou
ld he want to after everything that had happened? “I don’t know.” I felt stupid, not able to say anything else. And I could feel Mrs. Drake listening, wondering if she’d heard it all and what she’d tell the others.
“I see.” The sadness in Will’s voice stabbed my heart and the eager light faded from his eyes.
“Oh, Will, you know I care about you very much, and I’m so grateful for what you did. Here.” I fished in my pocket and handed him a little pouch I’d sewn with most of the money I owed him in it.
“What’s this?”
He brightened up when I gave him the pouch, and I realized he must have thought I had made some kind of present for him to take to the front, some token for luck. I was suddenly ashamed and wished I’d thought of making him a handkerchief or something. “It’s not all of it, but most of the money you lent me, for the train.”
All at once, the door that had welcomed me through his eyes and into his heart slammed shut. I had wounded him deeply, and he’d not set a foot on a battlefield yet. He stuffed the pouch in his jacket pocket and stood.
“I have to get back to camp, Miss Fraser.” He bowed to me, formal and stiff, as he used to bow to Mr. Abington-Smythe. I wanted to cry, to beg him to start his visit over again, to let me make it come out differently.
I bit my lower lip. What was I doing? This honorable young man who talked of marrying me was going off to war, and I was letting him leave without a word of encouragement. It wasn’t too late, if I was brave enough.
“Will!” I called to him as he walked away. He stopped and turned. I ran to him and rose up on my tiptoes. I intended to kiss his cheek, an affectionate sign that wouldn’t mean too much. But he turned and met my lips with his, trembling. I reached my arms around his neck and whispered into his ear. “I will think about it.”
He gave me a smile so full of hope and love it hurt, then turned and walked out, his head high and shoulders set.
In the Shadow of the Lamp Page 12
