‘Why did they give you a medal?’ Dulcie asked.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He slammed the locker door.
‘Why are you hiding it away? You should be proud.’
‘What do you know about it?’ For a brief second, Dulcie caught a look of unguarded pain in his green eyes, before the mask descended again. ‘I’m tired,’ he said. ‘Go away and bother someone else.’
‘But—’ Dulcie started to say. But Sam’s eyes were already closed.
For the rest of the day Dulcie couldn’t stop thinking about the medal in Sam Trevelyan’s locker. In the end, she decided to ask Staff Nurse Hanley about it. The senior staff nurse came from a military family and took a great interest in such things.
‘It sounds like the Military Medal,’ said Nurse Hanley, when Dulcie described it to her. ‘It’s a gallantry award, given to NCOs for particular acts of bravery. It’s really quite an honour to receive one.’
Dulcie thought of the medal, thrown carelessly into the back of Sam Trevelyan’s locker.
‘What kind of bravery?’ she asked.
‘Well, it depends … They usually publish the information in the London Gazette, if that’s any help?’ Staff Nurse Hanley frowned. ‘Why are you so interested, Nurse?’
Dulcie glanced back at Sam Trevelyan. He was awake again now, his eyes fixed unseeingly on the ceiling. His face was a set mask.
‘No reason, Staff,’ she said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘Nurse Beck, will you pay attention?’
Anna looked round sharply at the sound of Nurse Hanley’s stern voice. The senior staff nurse stood facing her, a length of rubber tubing in one hand and a catheter in the other.
‘You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on the patient’s pulse,’ she snapped. ‘How can you be ready with the stimulant if you’re miles away?’
‘Yes, Staff. Sorry.’
Anna gave the patient in the bed a quick, apologetic look, and checked his pulse. It was a good, steady beat, forceful enough to tell her he was suffering no ill effects from the abdominal drainage procedure.
She allowed her gaze to travel stealthily back to the far end of the ward, where the curtains were pulled around Edward’s bed. Dr French had been in there a long time, she thought.
Today was the day they decided whether to ship Edward back to France. Officially, he would have to go before a Medical Board who would decide his future, but Anna knew they nearly always took the advice of the doctor in charge of the soldier’s case.
She kept telling herself not to think the worst, but it was difficult after everything that had happened. She tried to keep up a brave face for Edward’s sake, but every night she would pray that God would not take him away from her, too. She wasn’t sure she would be able to bear it if she were left alone again.
‘Nurse Beck, I am about to suture the wound,’ Nurse Hanley’s voice rapped out.
‘Yes, Staff.’ Anna got to work, administering the local anaesthetic. But as she watched Nurse Hanley carefully stitching, her mind was elsewhere.
Suddenly the screens around Edward’s bed were pushed back and Dr French emerged with Miss Sutton. Anna watched them talking together, trying to work out what they might be saying. They both looked very solemn, she thought.
Nurse Hanley finished her sutures and Anna was allowed to apply the many-tailed binder and then dress the wound. She settled the patient and made sure he was comfortable, then hurried off to see Edward.
He was listlessly doing a crossword when she approached. Anna took one look at his subdued face and her heart sank.
‘Oh, Edward, what did the doctor say?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s bad news, love.’ Then, before Anna could reply, he went on, ‘It looks like those Germans will have to find someone else for their target practice!’
It took a moment for the news to sink in. ‘You – you mean, they’re not going to send you back?’
Edward shook his head. ‘The doctor reckons my lungs are too damaged. Another gas attack could kill me, he says. I’ll have to go in front of the Board to make it all official, but Dr French says he’ll be recommending light duties at home. Or you never know, I might even get a complete discharge!’ His face brightened.
Anna stared at him, scarcely able to take this in. She had seen so many other men, often in a worse state than Edward, shipped off back to France. He must be very lucky, she thought.
Or perhaps God had decided to answer her prayers for once.
‘You’ll be coming home.’ Her dazed mind could scarcely take it in. She had longed for this moment for so long, part of her wondered if it was still a dream. It seemed too good to be true.
‘Yes.’ He turned his head away from her, a faraway look on his face.
‘Edward, what is it? What’s wrong?’ Anna asked.
‘Nothing. Only – well, I don’t know where home is anymore, do I? I’ve been away so long, I’m not really sure what I’ll do once I’m in Civvy Street again. I mean, where will I live for a start?’
Anna stared at him. ‘Why do you have to ask that? Of course you’ll come and live at the bakery.’
‘Yes, but it’s not really my home, is it?’
‘It will be once we’re married.’
He looked up at her, his face so full of hope and uncertainty, Anna felt as if her heart would break.
‘Do you mean it?’ he said. ‘You still want to marry me?’
‘Of course I do, you daft ha’porth. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d changed your mind after all this time?’
Anna laughed. ‘As if I would!’ Then a thought struck her. ‘Unless – you’re the one who’s changed their mind?’
‘What do you think?’
Edward reached for her hand just as Miss Sutton came stomping down the corridor. Anna quickly drew away from his grasp, hiding her hands in the folds of her voluminous blue dress.
‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Sister might see.’
‘I don’t care.’ Edward grinned. ‘You’ll be Mrs Edward Stanning soon, and then I can hold your hand as much as I like!’
Anna was still blushing as she hurried away. For the rest of the afternoon, she went about her work, unable to keep a smile off her face.
Edward was coming home. If he did not receive a complete discharge, at least she would know he wasn’t in danger anymore. And even if his light duties took him to another part of the country, they would still be married.
And one day, when this wretched war was over, he would come home to her and they could be together again, in the bakery, just like old times.
‘Nurse? Could you do me a favour?’
Anna looked over to where Corporal Mason was sitting up in bed against a bank of pillows. He had a serious heart condition that meant he had to remain propped up at all times.
‘What is it, Corporal?’
‘You couldn’t give these pillows a bit of a shake for me, could you? One’s slipped down a bit, and it’s ever so uncomfortable.’
‘Of course.’
She should have known, Anna thought. As she approached the soldier’s bed, she could hear the muffled snorts of laughter. She should have realised then that something was up. But she was so carried away with her own daydreams that she barely noticed the grins on the faces of the men in the surrounding beds.
‘Now, let’s see, shall we?’ She reached for the pillow, and immediately felt the Corporal’s arms go around her middle, pulling her off balance. He was surprisingly strong for a wiry little man, and Anna fell into his lap as the other men whooped and cheered around them.
Corporal Mason’s face filled her vision, leering cheekily down at her. ‘Give us a kiss, Nurse!’ he cried. The next minute his wet lips had descended on hers.
As Anna struggled to fend him off, she heard Miss Sutton crying out, ‘What is going on here?’ This was followed quickly by another cry of, ‘No, Nurse, don’t fight him off. He might die! Give in, g
ive in!’
‘You heard her, Nurse. Give in!’ The other men joined in the chorus in delight.
It was so funny, even Anna was helpless with laughter as she tried to twist from the man’s grasp. But then she heard Sister’s shout of dismay, and the next thing she knew she was being hauled roughly away by a pair of strong hands.
Anna looked round, laughing, expecting to see Sister, and found herself staring instead into Edward’s icy blue gaze.
‘Corporal Mason, are you all right?’ Miss Sutton pushed Anna out of the way to get to the soldier, who had collapsed back against the pillows, gasping for air. ‘Fetch Dr French, Nurse, quickly. And you –’ she turned angrily to Edward ‘– get back into bed.’
For a moment Edward stood his ground, his hands balling into fists. Then, to Anna’s relief, he turned on his heel and stomped away.
Thankfully, Corporal Mason survived his attack. But Edward was simmering with anger when Anna went to see him later.
‘He’s still alive, then?’ Edward nodded over to where Miss Sutton was fussing over the hapless soldier. ‘Shame.’
‘You mustn’t say that, Edward. He didn’t mean any harm by it.’
‘He had no right to paw at you like that.’
‘It was just a bit of fun.’
Edward turned on her, coldly accusing. ‘You sound as if you enjoyed it?’
It was so ridiculous, Anna couldn’t help laughing. ‘You really think I enjoyed kissing Corporal Mason? He’s over forty, and he’s only got three teeth!’
‘I don’t know, do I?’ Edward’s chin jutted. ‘You’re always very friendly to the other men.’
‘It’s my job.’
‘Well, I don’t have to like it.’
She stared at his face, surprised to see anger clouding his eyes. She had never known Edward so jealous before. But before she could say any more, Sister summoned her to help with a patient’s bath.
All through the afternoon, Anna was aware of Edward sulking as she went about her work. Whenever she tried to catch his eye he would look away.
Meanwhile, Corporal Mason had recovered and was feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself.
‘It was only a bit of fun, Nurse. A few of the other lads egged me on to do it,’ he said. ‘I hope I ain’t caused you any offence?’
‘Not at all, Corporal,’ Anna replied.
‘I’m not sure your young man feels the same.’ Corporal Mason nodded over towards Edward. ‘D’you reckon I should apologise to him, too?’
Anna glanced back at Edward. ‘I’d leave him be if I were you,’ she said. ‘He’ll soon calm down.’
‘I hope so.’ Corporal Mason grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t fancy being on the end of that right hook of his. Finish me right off, I reckon!’
It wasn’t until she was serving the teas before she went off duty that Anna found herself face-to-face with Edward again.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly as she put his teacup down on the locker beside him.
Anna looked at him but said nothing.
‘It was stupid of me to get so jealous,’ Edward went on. ‘But I couldn’t help it. When I saw him pawing you like that …’
‘I told you, he didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘All the same, it’s not easy for me to sit here and watch some other man kissing the girl I love. I mean, how would you feel if you caught me kissing one of the other nurses?’
‘I don’t suppose I’d like it,’ Anna admitted slowly.
‘So I’d better not kiss Staff Nurse Hanley, then?’
Anna looked up into Edward’s face, and the next minute they both burst out laughing.
‘Definitely not!’ Anna said.
Edward reached for her hand again. ‘Do you forgive me?’ he said softly.
‘I suppose so. But don’t go trying to murder any more of the patients!’ Anna warned him.
‘I promise.’ He ran his thumb over the engagement ring on her left hand. ‘I can’t wait until you’re properly mine, Anna Beck. Then I’ll have no reason to be jealous again.’
Anna thought about her latest letter from Tom, lying on the bedside table at the nurses’ home.
‘No,’ she said. ‘No, you won’t.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
At the end of November, Miss Parker, ward sister on Wilson, was due to take a week’s holiday. Matron had arranged for one of the other ward sisters, Miss Collins, to take over from her, but on the morning Miss Parker was due to leave, Miss Collins was admitted to the sick bay with suspected laryngitis.
‘She can barely speak, poor thing,’ Florence Parker said when she called Grace into her office that morning. She looked odd out of her stiff grey uniform, dressed in an old-fashioned fitted coat that nearly reached her ankles. An elaborate feathered hat sat on the desk between them, beside a pair of grey kid gloves. In the corner of the room was a leather suitcase. Miss Parker must have been on her way to catch her train when she was summoned back, Grace thought.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Sister,’ Grace said. ‘I suppose you will have to postpone your holiday until she recovers?’
‘Och, no, I’m still going home to Edinburgh.’ Florence Parker shook her head. She was a slightly built, energetic woman, whose keen blue eyes radiated a fierce intelligence. ‘Matron has promised to find another ward sister by this afternoon. Until then, she has agreed I am to put you in charge, Nurse Duffield.’
‘Me, Sister?’ Panic washed over her. ‘But—’
‘Now, I don’t want to hear any arguments,’ Miss Parker cut her off briskly. ‘It really isn’t that difficult, Nurse. All you have to do is make sure the ward is kept tidy and the men looked after. I have already taken report from the night sister and given out the work lists, so everyone knows what they are supposed to be doing. You just have to make sure they do it.’
But Grace was hardly listening. Her mind was racing ahead, thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong.
‘It will only be for a few hours, Nurse Duffield.’ Amusement gleamed in Miss Parker’s eyes. ‘I’m sure even you could not bring the place to calamity by teatime.’
‘I hope not, Sister.’ But Grace’s palms were already clammy with the possibility.
She watched as Miss Parker put her hat on before the mirror, turning her head this way and that to check every angle. All the while, she went on issuing instructions.
‘Now, make sure everyone knows you are in charge, and don’t take any nonsense from anyone. Especially not the VADs. And particularly not Marchant. She is rather full of herself and inclined to take over if she is not kept in check.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘And don’t take any nonsense from the men, either. You must make sure that they are all in bed and the ward is tidy before Dr Logan does his round at ten o’clock. They’re bound to be in the middle of a card game, but you must tell them to stop. Confiscate their cards if you must.’
‘I will, Sister.’ Grace’s downcast expression must have given her away, because Miss Parker turned from the mirror and said in a kindly voice, ‘It will only be for a few hours, Duffield. Just do the best you can, and make sure you don’t lose anyone.’
She made it sound very simple. But Grace’s knees were still knocking underneath her voluminous skirt as she returned to Wilson ward. She felt sure that her fellow nurses would have something to say about her being in charge.
Surprisingly, they didn’t seem to mind.
‘Of course you should be in charge,’ Sylvia Saunders said, as if it was the most obvious idea in the world. ‘You’re so good with the patients, far better than we are.’
‘But I’ve never been in charge before,’ Grace said anxiously.
‘We’ll help you, don’t worry,’ Mary Finnegan said kindly. She was a pretty Irish girl, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
‘And we’ll keep the VADs in check for you,’ Sylvia offered.
‘Except for Marchant,’ Mary Finnegan said, rolling her eyes. ‘No one can keep her in chec
k, not even Matron.’
‘Speaking of which, Matron will be doing her rounds soon.’ Sylvia looked at the clock. ‘We’d better get this place tidy before she arrives, or it’ll be a black mark for all of us.’
They worked together, dusting and polishing and straightening the bed castors so they all faced in the same direction. Grace sat at Sister’s desk in the centre of the ward and surveyed the rows of neatly made beds with satisfaction. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all?
Then the double doors swung open and Matron arrived, gliding in with great ceremony in her long black dress and snowy headdress. Grace shot to her feet so quickly, she knocked over the chair with a resounding clatter.
Matron winced delicately. ‘Good morning, Nurse,’ she greeted her. ‘Are you ready for my inspection?’
‘I think so, Matron.’
‘You think so?’ Matron’s brows rose under her elaborate headdress. ‘That doesn’t sound very promising, Nurse. Let’s see, shall we?’
Grace prayed silently to herself as she followed Matron up the ward. All the while, her gaze darted around. It would be just her luck for one of the men to start screeching, or a VAD suddenly to appear with a trolley full of dirty laundry.
Matron seemed particularly determined to find fault. She moved from bed to bed, wielding a wooden ruler which she used to measure the turned down top sheets. She ran her finger along windowsills and the tops of lockers, then leaned down and tapped the bedsprings from underneath, looking for dust. Grace, Sylvia and Mary exchanged nervous glances as they followed in her wake.
The only difficult moment was when she reached the bed of Captain Jeffers.
‘And how are you today?’ she asked her usual question.
‘Dying for a cigarette, since you ask,’ the young officer replied. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got one on you, have you?’
Grace and the other nurses froze. Mary looked as if she might burst from suppressed laughter.
Thankfully, Matron didn’t seem too ruffled. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said, before gliding on to inspect the next bed.
By the time they reached the end of the ward, Grace’s heart was wedged so firmly in her throat she could scarcely breathe.
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