She put her hammer away. ‘Can you stand up for me?’ she asked.
Private Gordon glared at her. ‘C–c–can’t.’ Spittle flew from his slack lips as he struggled over the word.
‘If you could just try.’ She turned to Grace. ‘Help him, Nurse, if you please.’
Grace froze, not knowing what to do. Gordon’s face was working, his eyes filling with tears, mouth moving, trying to frame words that would not emerge. She went to move his legs, but he pushed her away, his hands flailing.
‘C–c–ca—’
‘For pity’s sake, can’t you leave him alone?’ Albie shouted. ‘How do you expect the poor sod to walk in his condition?’
The ward fell silent, his words hanging in the air. Dr Carlyle said nothing as she added a few more lines to the private’s notes.
‘That’s enough for now,’ she said finally. ‘Get him back into bed, Nurse.’
She walked off without another word.
‘Well, I can’t say I thought much of her!’ Albie said.
‘She isn’t always like that, I promise you.’ Grace rearranged Gordon’s hospital gown around his knees. His legs were heavy and lifeless as a puppet’s as she moved them back under the bedclothes and tucked him in carefully. ‘She’s a very good doctor.’
‘I don’t know about that!’ Albie did not look convinced. ‘If that’s lady doctors for you, give me a man any day. What do you say, pal?’ he called over to the next bed. But Gordon did not reply. He lay still, a hunched, curled shape under the bedclothes.
‘Reckon she’s upset him good and proper,’ Albie muttered. ‘We won’t get a word out of him for the rest of the day, I’ll bet.’
‘I’ll bring you both a cup of tea later, if I can,’ Grace promised. As she turned to go, she spotted the buff envelope Dr Carlyle had been carrying. It was lying on top of Gordon’s bedside locker. ‘Oh, dear, the doctor has left the X-rays behind. I’ll take them back to her …’
She went to pick up the envelope, but it slipped from her fingers and a couple of sheets of celluloid slid out on to the floor. As Grace hurried to gather them up, she couldn’t help taking a quick peek. X-rays always fascinated her, especially the ones of the wounded men. Seeing those tell-tale black shapes standing out against the white bones …
She frowned, looking closer. Then she shuffled the sheets and looked at the next one, and the next. They all told the same story.
‘What’s up, Nurse?’
Albie’s voice behind her made her start guiltily. ‘Nothing, Corporal Sallis.’ She quickly shoved the celluloid sheets back into the envelope.
‘There ain’t nothing badly wrong with him, is there?’
Grace shot a panicked glance at Gordon, but Albie said, ‘Don’t worry, he can’t hear us if he’s on that side. The bombs have sent him deaf in one ear.’ He looked at her considering. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? His back’s not broken.’
Grace opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘I can’t see any damage on the X-ray,’ she admitted slowly. ‘But I’m no expert,’ she added. ‘There might be something I’ve missed, or there could be another reason why he can’t walk.’
‘Oh, there’s another reason, all right.’ Albie nodded wisely. ‘I’ve seen lads like him before: can’t speak a word, tottering around the trenches like newborn lambs. Yet the doctors can’t find anything wrong with ’em. Because it’s all up here.’ He tapped his temple.
‘It’s not in his imagination!’ Grace started to defend him, but Albie shook his head.
‘Oh, no, Nurse, you don’t have to convince me of that. I’m not one of them ignorant so-and-sos as reckon they’re putting it on, believe me.’ He looked back at Gordon who was snoring softly now, his breath rising and falling steadily. ‘No, as far as I’m concerned, his injuries are as real as mine. And I’ll batter anyone that says different!’
‘I hope it won’t come to that, Corporal. Sister wouldn’t approve of fisticuffs on her ward.’ Grace smiled at him. ‘But Private Gordon is lucky to have a friend like you.’
‘Aye, he is.’ Albie grinned. ‘I reckon there was a reason we ended up on that ambulance train together. I’ll look after him, Nurse. Don’t you worry about that.’
CHAPTER NINE
Dulcie had barely got the men on to the terrace when the air raid started.
It was a crisp October day, and Sister had decreed that the men’s beds should be wheeled outside to make the most of the sunshine, even though it was bitterly cold.
‘Have a heart, Nurse. It’s blooming freezing!’ a burly sergeant complained, pulling his blankets up to his chin.
‘Don’t blame me, it’s Sister’s idea. She thinks you’ll benefit from the sun.’
‘We’ll get bloody frostbite and lose our toes. No offence, lad,’ he added to the young man in the next bed, who had had one of his feet amputated through trench foot.
No sooner had Dulcie, Anna and Sylvia wheeled the last bed out and lined it up on the terrace as Sister had instructed than the air-raid klaxon started up.
Private Gordon started like a frightened rabbit, looking around him with wide, terrified eyes.
‘It’s only an air raid, pal. They won’t be coming for us, don’t worry.’ Albie Sallis leaned over and patted his friend’s hand. ‘And on a Sunday morning, too,’ he tutted. ‘I ask you, is nothing sacred to those bloody Germans?’
Sylvia looked around nervously. ‘Perhaps we should bring the men back in?’
‘But we’ve only just got them out!’ Dulcie sighed. ‘Anyway, it’s probably just a false alarm.’
‘I don’t think so – look!’ Anna pointed towards the sky, where a scattering of dark dots were approaching over the distant horizon.
The men craned their necks to see. One of the soldiers, a pale young Lance Corporal called Frost, began to hum under his breath as he always did when he was nervous.
‘“It’s a long way to Tipperary, it’s a long way to go. It’s a long, long way to Tipperary …”’
‘He’s off again!’ Dulcie sighed to Anna. ‘He’ll be singing that wretched song for hours now.’
‘They’re coming this way, I think. This should be rather good.’ George Jeffers, a young captain in the Royal Fusiliers, lit up a cigarette and leaned back to enjoy the show.
‘Take no notice of him, Nurse,’ Albie said. ‘They’re miles away. There’s no need to be afraid.’ But even as he said it, he was shaking so much his iron bed frame rattled.
‘Oh, don’t worry about me.’ Dulcie turned round to tell him she was not in the least bit afraid, that in fact she found the distant sound of the aeroplanes quite exhilarating, when she saw Roger Wallace in the doorway.
Immediately she dissolved into a fit of nervous trembling. ‘Oh!’ she squealed. ‘Oh, I can’t bear it. Make it stop, please!’
‘What’s going on?’ Roger said.
‘Nurse Moore seems to be having hysterics,’ Anna said in a flat voice. ‘They came on suddenly.’
‘Very suddenly,’ Sylvia said.
‘I can’t help it if I’m terrified, can I?’ Dulcie launched herself at Roger, burying her face in his chest. ‘It’s the planes, I can’t stand the sound of them,’ she whimpered. ‘What if they bomb us?’
‘Perhaps we should slap her face?’ Sylvia suggested.
‘Really, Nurse Moore. You must try and collect yourself. Remember the men …’ Roger gave her a half-hearted pat on the shoulder. He was holding himself far too rigid for Dulcie’s liking. She threw her arms around his neck and burrowed her face deeper into his white coat, breathing in the antiseptic smell of him. She pressed her face against his chest, hoping to hear his heart skittering at the nearness of her, but all she could feel was a disappointingly steady thud against her cheek. Meanwhile, all around them, the patients cat-called and whistled.
‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’ To Dulcie’s annoyance, Anna stepped in briskly, pulling her away from Roger. ‘I’ll make you a cup of hot sweet tea. That’ll sort
you out.’
‘Good idea.’ Roger stepped aside smartly.
Once back inside the ward, Anna closed the French doors and hissed, ‘It won’t work, you know.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘This silly game you’re playing, trying to win Roger Wallace back. We can all see it, we know what’s going on.’
‘I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Dulcie said.
‘Suit yourself. As long as you know, we’re all watching you. And we won’t let you ruin things for Sylvia.’
She turned on her heel and started to walk away. ‘What about my hot sweet tea?’ Dulcie called after her.
‘Make it yourself, I’m not your servant!’ Anna threw over her shoulder.
As Dulcie watched her go, a deep voice suddenly said, ‘She’s right, you know.’
She swung round. Sam Trevelyan was the only patient within earshot. But he had his eyes closed. And besides, he never spoke to anyone.
Grace was always trying to draw him out, to coax him into conversation. But Dulcie never bothered. It suited her to treat him in silence. When he did speak, he was always so angry and bitter, she could not be doing with it.
‘Did you say something?’ she asked.
‘I said, she’s right.’ Still his eyes didn’t open. ‘You’re never going to get him back. You’re just making a fool of yourself.’
Dulcie gasped. ‘How dare you!’ And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, ‘What makes you say that?’
But it seemed Sam Trevelyan had done all the speaking he was going to do for that day. Dulcie stared at him for a moment, then she said, ‘I don’t care about your opinion, anyway. You know nothing about it.’
She flounced off to the kitchen, where Grace was making Miss Sutton’s afternoon tea.
‘What a ghastly, infuriating man!’ she fumed.
‘Which one?’
‘Sergeant Trevelyan.’ She spat out the name like poison.
Grace smiled over her shoulder. ‘Oh, dear, what’s he done now?’
Dulcie opened her mouth to tell her, then decided against it. ‘Nothing. I just don’t care for him, that’s all.’
‘He can be very difficult,’ Grace agreed. ‘But I’m sure he’s all right when you get to know him.’
‘I’m not sure I’d ever want to.’
Grace finished pouring the tea into a bone china cup, then arranged it carefully on a tray with a plate of biscuits. ‘Have you heard the news?’ she said.
‘What news?’
As Grace turned around with the tray, Dulcie snatched the teacup off it and took a quick sip.
‘Moore!’ Grace stared at her in horror. ‘Sister will go mad.’
‘She’ll have to catch me first, won’t she?’ Dulcie swiped a biscuit off the plate. ‘Go on. What news?’
‘Dr Carlyle is setting up a new ward, just for shell shock patients.’ Grace nervously eyed the fragile cup in Dulcie’s hands.
‘You call that news? I was expecting some exciting gossip.’
‘It is exciting,’ Grace insisted. ‘Dr Carlyle will be in charge, and they’re going to get a psychiatrist in to help, too.’
‘Dr Carlyle and a whole ward of shell shock patients? Sounds like my idea of hell.’ Dulcie took a bite of her biscuit. ‘The mentally disturbed patients give me the shivers, all those wobbly limbs and glassy eyes.’
‘They can’t help it. They’re ill.’
Dulcie brushed crumbs off the bib of her apron. ‘I suppose you’re going to volunteer to join this new ward?’
Grace turned away, blushing. ‘Oh, no. I don’t suppose Dr Carlyle would want me. I’m far too hopeless.’
Before Dulcie could reply, the door to the kitchen swung open. Thinking it was Sister, Dulcie thrust the teacup back at Grace, who promptly dropped it. It hit the tiled floor and shattered.
‘Oh, no!’ Grace stared down at the tiny fragments. ‘What am I going to do? That was Sister’s favourite cup. There’ll be murders over this. Quickly, help me clear it up …’
But Dulcie didn’t move. She was too transfixed by the vision standing in the kitchen doorway.
He was simply the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. Tall, dark-haired and immaculately dressed, even his horn-rimmed spectacles only seemed to emphasise his high cheekbones, perfect features and deep blue eyes.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, in a voice like melted chocolate. ‘I’m looking for Miss Sutton?’
Grace spoke up. ‘She’ll be in her sitting room, waiting for her afternoon tea.’ Dulcie felt the weight of her accusing gaze, but she didn’t care. All she could do was stare in silence at the man before her, taking in every perfect inch of him. ‘I’ll show you—’
‘No, I’ll show you.’ Dulcie found her voice at last. ‘You’d best clear up this mess,’ she said to Grace.
She led the way down the passageway and back to the ward. ‘Sister’s sitting room is on the other end of the ward, near the private rooms,’ she said.
‘Thanks. This place is like a rabbit warren, isn’t it? It’s taken me half an hour to find the right ward.’
He walked with a slight limp, Dulcie noticed.
‘I take it you’re not a patient?’ she said.
‘Good Lord, no. Although I suppose you could be forgiven for thinking that.’ He patted his leg. ‘My name is Robert Logan, and I’m the new doctor here.’
‘Oh!’ Dulcie’s heart skipped with delight. ‘That is good news. I mean – we’re a bit short of doctors at the moment. Ours keep enlisting.’
‘I’ve done my bit. I was invalided out six months ago. They decided I was more of a hindrance than a help with my gammy leg, so they sent me back to Civvy Street.’
As they headed down the ward, Dulcie was aware of Roger Wallace watching them. But she barely spared him a glance.
‘Well, here we are.’ She stopped at the door to Sister’s sitting room. ‘I’ll leave you here. Sister will go mad if I’m not polishing or scrubbing something.’
‘Thank you, Nurse—?’
‘Moore. Dulcie Moore.’ She could feel the heat rising in her face. She never blushed.
He smiled. He had a beautifully shaped mouth, she thought. ‘I daresay we’ll be seeing each other again, Nurse Moore.’
Oh, we will. I’ll make sure of that, Dulcie thought as she walked away.
She hurried back to the kitchen, where Grace was on her hands and knees, sweeping up the last fragments of bone china.
‘Sister is going to be furious,’ she said gloomily. ‘And I’ll get the blame as usual.’
‘Never mind that! What did you think of him?’
‘Who?’
‘Him! The new doctor! Oh, Duffield, he was here not a minute ago. Surely you couldn’t forget him?’
‘I don’t know, I only caught a fleeting glimpse of him.’ Grace clambered to her feet. ‘He’s a doctor, you say?’
‘Dr Robert Logan.’ Dulcie said the name slowly, savouring it.
‘He seemed nice enough, I suppose.’
‘Nice? He was the most perfect man I’ve ever seen in my life!’
Grace laughed. ‘How do you know that? You know nothing about him.’
‘I know he’s a war hero, and he’s very handsome. I also know he’s a doctor, so he’s bound to be rich.’
‘Not necessarily! The medical students are always trying to borrow money from us, in case you hadn’t noticed?’
‘Yes, but once they qualify and become consultants, they have lots of money.’ Dulcie pressed her hands together. Her palms had gone very clammy, she noticed. ‘Do you know? I think I might be in love.’
Grace laughed. ‘What about Roger Wallace?’
‘What about him?’ Roger had already faded into the back of her mind, with his weak chin and his flat-footed walk. Sylvia was welcome to him, she decided.
She had already found the new object of her affections. And this time nothing was going to stop her from getting her man.
&n
bsp; CHAPTER TEN
On a cold afternoon in late October, Anna and Liesel travelled to the internment camp in Holloway to see their father one last time. Liesel’s boyfriend Davy went with them.
The sisters had been visiting the camp every month for the past three years, but Anna didn’t think she would ever get used to the grim surroundings: the featureless slabs of grey single-storey accommodation blocks surrounded by guard posts, high walls and savage barbed wire.
‘At least Papa will be free from this place soon,’ she said quietly.
‘He should be coming home,’ Liesel said. ‘He’s done nothing wrong, and they’re sending him away. It’s not fair.’
She started to cry again. Anna took out her handkerchief and stuffed it into her sister’s hand.
‘Do stop it,’ she snapped. ‘Papa will feel wretched enough without you making it worse.’
‘Leave her be.’ Davy put his arms protectively around Liesel. ‘She can’t help it if she’s sensitive. She’s upset.’
‘We’re all upset,’ Anna snapped. ‘But that won’t help our father, will it?’
Davy ignored her, burying his face in Liesel’s fair hair. ‘There, there,’ he soothed her. ‘Don’t upset yourself. I know it’s hard for you, but we’ll get through this, I promise. You’ve got me. I’ll look after you.’
Anna watched her sister nestling in his arms, fighting down a feeling of annoyance. She didn’t know why Liesel had insisted on bringing Davy with her, he wasn’t even family. This should have been a day for just the two of them, and Papa.
But Liesel never seemed to go anywhere without him these days. His stocky, swaggering figure was always at her side, giving his opinion, sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.
And he’d made her late. The train he’d been driving to get here had ended up stuck in a siding, and instead of going on without him, Liesel had insisted on waiting. So Anna had been kept waiting too, a precious half an hour that she could have been spending with Papa.
They reached the gates and waited in line with the other families for the guard to search their belongings and issue them with a ticket to go inside.
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