‘Doctor Marshall wants to raise the spirits of the medical staff, and especially the patients, by putting on a show.’ Phoebe listened in rising excitement as Matron told them the doctor’s ideas for Christmas. It cheered her to think that they would be celebrating the coming festivities in some way, other than a few bits of holly and red tissue paper. ‘He insists that everyone take part in some way, even if it’s a group song, a poem, or a small piece from a play.’ She looked at each of them before asking, ‘Any questions?’
Phoebe was used to taking part in the annual festivities at the church hall back home, and tried to decide what she would most enjoy doing as her part of the entertainment.
‘Yes, Matron,’ Phoebe said, raising her right hand slightly.
‘Go on.’
‘Who will be in charge of organising everything, do you know?’
Matron’s face softened for a second before she smiled. ‘Are you offering your services for the role, Nurse Robertson?’
‘No.’ She heard tittering coming from a couple of the nurses behind her and turned to glare at them. ‘I was just wondering who to speak to about what each of us should do.’ Her voice trailed off as she watched Matron’s expression change, and realised she had walked into a trap. Damn, Phoebe thought, furious with herself for being so enthusiastic in speaking first. Now she had drawn attention to herself.
‘I nominate you as the co-ordinator for the event,’ Matron said. ‘Anyone else who would like to offer their services, please do so after you leave here. I estimate that Nurse Robertson will need at least two, or maybe three of you to help with the preparations and planning.’ She scanned the room once more and this time, Phoebe noticed, Matron left her gaze on each one of them for long enough to make them fidget guiltily when they didn’t speak up.
‘I’ll help, Matron,’ Aggie said.
‘And so will I,’ Hetty shouted, giving Phoebe a friendly smile.
‘Thank you, both,’ Phoebe said, relieved to have their support. Encouraged, she turned to face the rest of her colleagues, looking at each one in turn.
‘I’ll do it,’ a clipped voice said, and though Phoebe’s mood dipped, she fixed a smile on her face and turned to the owner of the voice, Verity Lansdown. Phoebe knew who the girl was and had worked several shifts with her but had quickly tired of Verity’s over-confidence and superior attitude. Phoebe had managed to avoid spending time with Verity out of work hours up until now and didn’t fancy having to listen to the woman’s chatter off duty.
‘Well done, Nurse Lansdown,’ Matron said, clapping her hands together. ‘Good. I expect the performance to be on Christmas Day. The pastor will give his service on Christmas morning and visit each ward, for those patients unable to leave their beds. They will then be given luncheon and will be ready for some entertainment afterwards. Say, around two o’clock.’
She gave Phoebe a satisfied nod. ‘I expect you to put together an enjoyable display, but if you do not have enough people offering to take part, I would like you to let me know and I will chivvy them along. I will leave you to persuade the patients – well, those who are able – to do something too. But don’t push them too hard. We are mostly putting this on to cheer them up.’
‘Yes, Matron,’ Phoebe said, amused by Matron’s use of the word ‘we’ when as far as she could tell, Matron would be doing very little at all. She had no idea where to start arranging something like this, having only ever taken part in local events near her family home in England.
Matron waved them all away and the dismissed VADs filed out of her office.
‘Well done, Phoebe,’ several of the other volunteers said, each looking relieved that they hadn’t been the one singled out.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ Aggie said, coming to her side. ‘You’re not alone doing this, don’t forget.’
‘No,’ Hetty agreed. ‘We’re here to help you.’
‘As am I,’ Verity said, giving a girlish giggle that immediately drove Phoebe to suspect that planning the event would be hindered by Verity’s involvement rather than helped.
‘Thank you all,’ Phoebe said, deciding to give Verity the benefit of the doubt for the time being. ‘I appreciate you joining me in this.’
Aggie linked arms with her and Hetty moved to her other side and did the same.
‘We should all give some thought to how we’re going to go about this,’ Aggie suggested. ‘I’m sure that once we have some sort of idea about what we each need to do, it’ll then feel less intimidating.’
‘I agree. I’m going to have to do it after my shift, though,’ Phoebe said, realising she was going to be late if she didn’t get a move on. ‘I’ll catch up with you all later.’
Phoebe hurried to the ward, happy to be inside, out of the damp cold. Summer couldn’t come quickly enough, she decided, relieved to step into the relatively warm hut.
‘Where would you like me to start, Sister?’ she asked when she saw the older woman watching her arrival from the other side of the room.
‘You can check each of the patients have filled water jugs by their beds, and then come and help me with one or two of them when you’ve done that.’
Phoebe filled a large enamel jug from the canteen and carried it carefully back to the ward, warily looking where she was walking in an attempt not to slip on the muddy walkway. She worked around the ward from bed to bed, keeping her voice cheerful when she spoke to each of the patients, even as she was hit with a sudden longing for the comfort of her family. She had naïvely thought that her grief might lessen as time passed, but for some reason it seemed to come in waves, with the worst hitting her when she least expected it. Was that the same for everyone, she wondered?
She heard an almost imperceptible groan and focused her attention on pouring water for a young, badly injured soldier who seemed to be dreaming. She watched him for a moment, unsure whether to wake him, then, recalling how her mother insisted that sleep was the best medicine, left him to rest. Most patients were pleasant, although a couple saddened her as they fought to survive their life-changing injuries, like this particular man.
‘You’re looking extra thoughtful today, Nurse Robertson,’ Captain Bailey said, lowering his pencil and closing his notepad. ‘Something troubling you?’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Captain,’ she said automatically. She was impressed by his perceptiveness, but it wasn’t the done thing to become too familiar with the patients, and sharing her thoughts was something she knew she should not do.
‘Were you drawing something?’ she asked, intrigued to know why the pad was so important to him.
‘I love to sketch,’ he admitted. ‘I always feel calmer when I have a notepad and pencil to hand.’ He studied her. ‘Anyway, don’t change the subject. I have a feeling you’re not really fine,’ he said, keeping his voice low and narrowing his eyes. ‘They do say a problem shared is a problem…’ He frowned.
‘Halved,’ she said, ending the quotation for him as she picked up his glass and poured water into it. Her mother had loved to use that quote. Phoebe’s heart tightened. Would she ever come to terms with not being at home the night her family had died? She pushed away the thought, aware that there was nothing she could have done to help and she was only tormenting herself.
She realised she was still holding the captain’s glass and went to place it back on the small cabinet next to his bed. She sensed him smiling at her and realised she had been tricked. Phoebe raised her eyes to meet his, which were twinkling in amusement. ‘You think you’re very clever, don’t you?’ she asked, unable to stop herself smiling.
‘I wouldn’t have to resort to trickery if you told me what was bothering you, though, would I?’
‘Nothing is bothering me,’ she insisted, glancing over her shoulder to check she wasn’t being watched by the sister.
‘Have it your own way,’ he said. ‘You looked so sad just then,’ he said quietly. ‘I know we don’t really know each other, but I have two siblings and know from experience that it helps to share concerns with someone else.’
Phoebe thought of Celia and missed her even more than usual. ‘I have a sister, too,’ she confided.
‘Does she work here?’
Phoebe shook her head, wishing Celia was nearby. ‘Unfortunately not.’
‘Aww, well,’ he said, his voice gentle, ‘if you change your mind and want to unburden yourself, then I promise I’m a good listener.’
‘I should be the one looking after you,’ she said. ‘Not the other way around.’
‘You would be helping me, though,’ he argued, a twinkle in his dark eyes.
Her senses reacted in a way that surprised her. Was it attraction to him that gave her that strange feeling? ‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘I would be delighted to have something else to think about in this place.’
‘I see,’ she said.
‘And who knows,’ he continued. ‘I might even be able to help in some way.’
Phoebe was unexpectedly comforted by his offer and found she wanted to help him in return. She hated to think of him being bored, and wondered if maybe he might be able to offer some practical help for the show. ‘Fine.’
‘What’s fine?’ He pushed himself further up his pillow and winced.
‘Here, let me help you.’ She took hold of him and, helping him lean forward, puffed up his pillows so he could sit up. ‘Better?’
‘Much. Thank you.’ He smiled at her. ‘You were saying?’
‘Oh, yes. Four of us VADs have been tasked with arranging a show for the patients and staff on Christmas Day. I’m supposed to be the one in charge of arranging it.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t look very happy about it.’
‘That’s because I’ve never done anything like this before and have no idea where to begin finding acts.’ She sighed. ‘Or deciding what those acts might be.’
‘That’s easy.’
Thrown by his flippant and unexpected reply, Phoebe shook her head. ‘And how do you figure that?’
‘I can help you come up with ideas.’ His face lit up, but she couldn’t understand why he appeared so enamoured at the thought of helping her.
‘Have you ever planned a show before?’ she asked, relieved to have something to take her mind off missing her family.
He reached for his glass and took a mouthful of water. Swallowing, he smiled. ‘For all you know, I could be an entertainer.’
Phoebe couldn’t contain her surprise. ‘Are you?’
He laughed and shook his head, replacing the glass on the cabinet. ‘Sorry, no. But I have had some experience arranging events, and have taken part in enough of them.’
Phoebe wasn’t sure what he might be alluding to. ‘In what capacity?’
He motioned for her to move a little closer to him, and after checking that Sister wasn’t anywhere nearby, she did. ‘I’ve helped build theatre sets,’ he whispered. ‘I’d happily help build a simple set that you could use at the back of your show.’
‘You’re a builder?’
‘Architect.’ When she gave him a confused look, he explained. ‘My cousin is an actress and found me a job at one of the theatres where she worked during one of my school summer holidays. I learnt a lot there and thoroughly enjoyed myself.’
Phoebe gave his suggestion some thought but had to dismiss it. ‘Captain, Sister would have a fit if she thought I was encouraging one of her patients to do something that might cause a delay in his recovery. Thanks all the same, though. I appreciate your offer.’
He looked downcast and Phoebe immediately felt guilty for rebuffing his offer to help. ‘I’m sure we’ll think of something that you can do, though. I’ll let you know when I think of it.’ She heard footsteps and, seeing that it was Sister, she grimaced. ‘I’d better get on before I’m in trouble.’
‘May I ask you something?’
Phoebe nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I was wondering if you always wanted to be a nurse?’
It was an odd question, she thought, but then he had just told her what he did for a living, so what was the harm in answering him? ‘I was a kindergarten teacher. But after most of my family were killed in a bombing raid, I found I couldn’t bear to stay in the area without them.’ She heard his sharp intake of breath and wished she had thought to keep her family loss to herself. ‘So I applied to train as a VAD and was thrilled to be sent away from England and come here to France.’
‘Good grief. Are you all right?’
Was she? Not really. But she could hardly tell him that. ‘Most of the time,’ she admitted. ‘Now, I really ought to be running along.’
‘Right you are, Nurse Robertson. And thank you. You’ve given me something to think about while I’m lying here. I’ll come up with a plan for you, don’t you worry.’
‘Thank you.’
* * *
Phoebe worked the rest of her shift, unable to shake Archie from her thoughts. He really was a very handsome man, she decided, her heart giving a flutter each time she pictured his cheeky expression and the way his eyes seemed to bore deep into her soul whenever he looked at her.
Desperate to share her feelings with someone, she could hardly wait until the end of her shift, when she determined to write to her sister and share her unexpected feelings for this patient:
Dearest Celia,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are not being too badly treated by the prisoners under your care. I’m slowly getting used to dealing with the gore that one comes across at a hospital and although I am shocked most days by some of the injuries, I’m proud to say that I believe I hide my shock very well, at least in front of the patients.
Which leads me to tell you about one particular patient we have here now. His name is Captain Archie Bailey and he is the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Maybe you won’t think so, but there’s something about him that stirs my very soul, and each time I catch his eye my breath seems to vanish for a few seconds. I think he might like me too. Oh, Celia, I wish you could meet him and tell me what you think. He is funny and kind, and I hope that I’m able to see him again when all of this is over.
I fear that since our shared losses, life can’t possibly return to anything we recognise as normal, but meeting Archie has reminded me that there is still some happiness to be enjoyed in the world, and for that I’m grateful. I hope you’re not too shocked and also that you are coping with all that’s happened to us.
Please write back as soon as you can so that I know you are fit and well.
With affection, your sister,
Phoebe x