‘This stew is tastier than I imagined it might be,’ Phoebe said before taking a mouthful of the warm concoction, which consisted mostly of boiled root vegetables. It was better than nothing and at least they had a slice of bread to go with it this evening. She smiled at Hetty as her friend placed her bowl on the table opposite her and sat down.
‘How did it go today?’ Phoebe asked. She wasn’t sure if she was envious or not that Hetty had been asked to assist the theatre nurse during surgeries.
Hetty stifled a yawn. ‘Not as bad as I had anticipated.’
‘No?’
Hetty shook her head. ‘No, thankfully.’ She lowered her voice and waved for Phoebe to lean in closer to her. ‘Sister Evans speaks fluent German.’ She looked over her shoulder before adding, ‘What do you think of that then?’
‘Maybe she spent time in Germany before the war,’ Phoebe said. ‘I’ve heard that many people liked to travel there and some likely went as exchange students. But how do you know Sister Evans speaks German?’ She mouthed the word ‘German’ so as not to alert anyone who might be able to overhear their conversation.
‘One of the operations was on a German prisoner and I heard her speaking to him,’ Hetty whispered. ‘He was brought in sometime after dawn this morning and had tried to kill himself.’ She shuddered. ‘He must have been terrified about what might happen to him here.’
Phoebe hated to think that someone was frightened enough to cause themselves injury.
‘Did you see him when he was conscious?’
Hetty nodded. ‘He was only a boy,’ she said sadly. ‘He looked petrified, but we were in the theatre at that point, and I’m unsure whether he was more terrified by how heavily he was bleeding, the fact that he was about to be operated on by a British surgeon, or that he was in a British hospital at all.’
Phoebe thought of being in the boy’s situation and could only imagine his fear. ‘This war has a lot to answer for.’
‘I agree.’ Hetty indicated her food with her fork. ‘I think we should eat this while it’s warm. It’s only going to become less tasty as it goes cold.’
She had a point. They sat in silence, eating the rest of their meal, and Phoebe tried to block out the chatter and noise of the other staff as they caught up with their friends. Her shoulders ached, as did her back and feet. She really should be used to this work now, she decided. Her mind drifted to the captain and to his handsome face and dark-brown eyes that reminded her of the deep pools she used to stare into in the shady pond in the wood near her childhood home.
‘Phoebe.’
She realised she was staring into her half-empty bowl and that Hetty was addressing her. ‘What is it?’
‘You were miles away,’ Hetty said, a suspicious tone to her voice. ‘Has something happened that you want to tell me about?’
‘Sorry? Um, no.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing,’ she fibbed, not wanting to share her thoughts about Captain Bailey. ‘I’m just a little tired, nothing more.’
‘I’m not certain I believe you,’ Hetty said, staring at her thoughtfully for a few seconds. ‘But I know what you mean about being tired. I don’t know what’s more painful at the moment: my head, my feet, or my poor lower back.’
‘I feel that way too,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘I think we should finish up here and go to bed as soon as we can this evening. Who knows what we’ll have to face tomorrow?’
‘I’d rather not think about that right now,’ Hetty said, focusing on her food once again. ‘I feel sorry for the new VADs. I saw some arriving earlier and they looked terrified. I’m not sure they expected to come somewhere so busy.’
Phoebe recalled how she had felt arriving almost two months ago at this hectic place. ‘I know that I felt like turning around and going straight home five minutes after my arrival.’ Her mind drifted back to the captain. It was his first day at the hospital too, although he was seeing things from the opposite side to her and Hetty. She hoped he was settling in. But what was she doing, thinking about this man all the time? She shook her head to dispel all thoughts of him and ate the last mouthful of the stew.
‘Do you mind if I make my way back to the dorm before you?’ she said, pretending to yawn.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Hetty smiled. ‘I’ll see you there soon.’
Phoebe left the canteen and realised it was raining slightly. She folded her arms and concentrated on not slipping on the wet boardwalk. A loud crack of thunder made her jump. That was close, she thought, relieved she wasn’t as terrified of thunderstorms as she had been as a little girl. That was one outcome of this war, at least; it was now more unnerving hearing distant canon fire than seeing forks of lightning shoot through the sky.
The rain fell harder and she realised she was outside Ward III. She decided to escape the worst of the rain in the ward and wait for it to subside. She closed the door just as thunder rumbled loudly and a flash of lightning lit up the miserable October sky.
‘Nasty night,’ one of the VADs said as she hurried past, carrying a blood-soaked dressing.
Phoebe wondered if she should at least offer to help while she was in the ward. She turned to see where the nurse was coming from, realising for the first time that she was in the same ward where the captain was situated. Her stomach twisted in anxious dread. Please don’t let him be the one who was bleeding so heavily.
She automatically looked in his direction and saw he was watching her as he rested on his pillow, his head on his arm. He smiled and Phoebe instinctively smiled back.
‘What are you doing getting in the way here, Nurse?’ Sister Taylor asked, scowling. ‘You’re not on duty, are you?’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘No, Sister.’ She could sense the captain’s gaze on her and tried to ignore it, not wishing to antagonise the sister further. ‘I’m sorry, I stepped inside from the rain. It’s torrential out there.’
‘You’re dripping on my clean floor, Nurse. I suggest you get a move on and find your way to wherever you’re supposed to be, and leave what little room we have left in here to those attempting to perform their duties.’
‘Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister.’
Without a moment’s hesitation she turned and left the ward, wincing as the driving rain hit her and soaked her almost instantly. She had no option but to run and hope she didn’t slip over.
‘Hey! Watch where you’re going.’
Phoebe leapt out of the way of the oncoming doctor, slipping on the muddied wood.
Doctor Marshall grabbed her arm. ‘Steady on.’ He almost slipped over himself and Phoebe, mortified to have caused such a scene, grimaced.
‘I’m sorry, Doctor, I was…’
‘Trying to get out of the rain. Yes, I can see that.’ His eyes went to his hand on her arm and he let go. ‘On your way, Nurse. No harm done.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Marshall,’ Phoebe said before doing as he had instructed and hurrying on again.
She ran into the dormitory and was about to slam the door behind her when someone stopped it from closing. Phoebe smiled when she saw it was Hetty. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘I think that much is obvious.’ Hetty wrinkled her nose, holding out her dripping hands. ‘I decided to follow you after all,’ she explained.
‘I think we need to get into some dry clothes before we catch our death.’
‘Good idea.’
Phoebe led the way to the other end of the room where their beds lay and grabbed her towel, hurriedly drying her wavy auburn hair. ‘I hope we don’t have an entire winter of this weather to look forward to,’ she grumbled, walking over to stand near the small iron burner giving out a meagre heat that you needed to be standing within a few feet of to feel any benefit.
‘I saw Doctor Marshall say something to you,’ Hetty whispered. ‘What happened?’
Phoebe told her, her cheeks reddening, feeling embarrassed about her clumsiness.
‘That’s a shame, I thought it was something a little more friendly than that.’
‘He’s an important man. Why on earth would he look at a volunteer? Let alone during a storm when he’s in a rush to get somewhere.’
‘I was only teasing.’ Hetty shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t take things so seriously.’
Phoebe knew Hetty was right and opened her mouth to speak, but all thoughts of what she intended to say vanished as the front door burst open and a sodden woman stepped inside. She didn’t recognise her and presumed she must be one of the new intake of VADs.
‘Grab a towel and come and dry yourself off a bit over here where it’s warmest,’ Phoebe said, seeing rivulets of water cascading from the woman’s coat onto the wooden floor. ‘When we’re changed, I’ll make us all a cuppa.’
‘Thank you,’ the girl said, going to one of the bedside cupboards and taking out a towel. ‘My name is Aggie. I’m new here.’
* * *
Twenty minutes later Phoebe sat on her bed facing Aggie and Hetty as they sipped their cups of tea on Hetty’s bed.
‘It’s good to be dry again,’ Phoebe said, running her hands through her damp hair. ‘I hate this weather. I don’t mind when it’s windy or raining, but both together is too much.’
‘I’m used to wild weather, as I’m from near Exmoor,’ Hetty said before taking a sip of her drink. ‘For some reason, though, I assumed that the weather here would be much nicer. Sunny, even.’
‘You did?’ Aggie asked.
‘Well, we’re in France, after all, aren’t we?’ Hetty sighed. ‘This is northern France, though, and from what I’ve seen, it’s not too different to back home in Britain. More’s the pity.’
‘It’s a shame.’ Aggie sighed. ‘Mind you, we’ll probably be happy for it not to be too hot when summer does eventually get here.’
‘We’ll have to wait and see if that is the case.’ Phoebe smiled at their new friend. ‘Tell us how your first day went, Aggie.’
The girl crossed one slim leg over the other. ‘It was busy.’ She laughed. ‘I think the thing that surprised me the most was the sheer number of different injuries that can be caused by shrapnel,’ she said, her voice quieter as she stared into space. ‘I’ve no idea how some of them survive what happens to them.’
Phoebe was still astounded by the same thought.
‘How were your days?’ Aggie asked them.
Phoebe listened as Hetty described her day in vague terms. Usually she went into detail about a soldier, his state and what she had done for him, but this time she kept details to a minimum, and Phoebe couldn’t help being suspicious as to why that might be.
‘And how about you, Phoebe?’ Hetty asked, sipping her drink again.
Phoebe told her about the men she had helped with and how tired she felt, but didn’t mention the captain. Her eyes shifted from Aggie to Hetty. Maybe Hetty, too, had a patient that she had connected with more than usual?
At least the patients they attended to were Allied soldiers. She thought of Celia in Jersey nursing German prisoners of war, and just for a moment wondered if these kinds of connections were happening there, too. But no, her sister could never fall for a German soldier. She wasn’t that disloyal.