Celia couldn’t shift the feeling of being watched all the time and hated that Elsie had been the one who saw her and Otto together. She had been expecting to hear from Matron, or at least be called to speak to Sister, but so far nothing had been said. It was odd, Celia thought, for Elsie to make such a point about her disgust for her and Otto, and then not follow it through by reporting her. What was she up to? Whatever it was, her unexpected silence was making Celia anxious, so she decided to speak to Otto about it. She would have to ensure that Elsie was kept busy elsewhere while she did so, though, because she didn’t want to give her any further ammunition to use.
Her opportunity to speak to Otto came sooner than she had expected, when Elsie was sent with one of the other nurses to assist the doctor carrying out check-ups on the escaped prisoners who had now been caught. As soon as Celia was certain they had left, she went to the ward.
‘What do you think she’s up to?’ she asked him after sharing her concerns about Elsie. ‘I can’t work it out.’
He checked no one was watching them, then reached out and rested his hand on her forearm. ‘You are trembling.’ It was a statement rather than a question. ‘It is not cold in here, so it must be because you are frightened.’
Celia hated to worry him, but he had already seen through her bravado, so there was little point in denying it. ‘I’m probably being silly,’ she said, certain that she wasn’t, but wanting to play down her concerns so that he didn’t overreact and do something that might make matters worse for them both. ‘I only mention this to you because I can’t work out what she’s playing at.’
‘Playing at?’
‘What her intentions are for me. It’s making me uneasy. I expected her to report me by now.’
‘She is enjoying having power over you. She is a cruel woman.’
He was right. It was as simple as that.
‘I’m not sure what to do about it, though.’
He sighed. ‘I’m unsure whether there is anything you can do. I would wait. Bide your time. She will show her intentions to you soon enough.’ His reassuring smile calmed her slightly. ‘You are strong, Celia. Try not to let this woman upset you.’
‘I won’t,’ she said, feeling a little stronger. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and went over to the window. ‘It’s snowing,’ Celia exclaimed. She knew snow might lift the sullen mood in the half-empty ward. ‘I wonder if it’ll stick.’
* * *
It did, and the following morning Celia was grateful for her ankle boots as she had to traipse from the nurses’ quarters to the wards through a few inches of snow. She stopped halfway to the hospital and looked around. Everything was white and even the sea looked wintery somehow. There was a quietness about the place, most of the sound being muffled by the thick blanket of snow covering the area. She wondered what this place had looked like before the camp had been built. Would it still look like this fifty years from now? She hoped not.
Celia liked this time of day best of all. The sun was finally up and soon the days would begin to get longer and the nights shorter. She couldn’t wait for that to happen.
It occurred to her that if someone had told her about living and working at a POW camp, she would have assumed it would be very frightening. The men hadn’t given her cause for worry though, she mused. In fact, the only time she had felt fear so far had been when Elsie had issued her veiled threats. Celia groaned, aware that there was little she could do about Elsie until her colleague showed her hand.
For now, she would continue carrying out her duties to the best of her abilities, while being careful not to let anyone else catch her being too attentive to Otto. Maybe if she kept her focus and worked hard, then her seniors might not believe Elsie’s tales. The thought cheered her.
‘Yes,’ Celia said to herself. ‘That’s what I’ll do.’ It wasn’t much of a plan but it was better than nothing and it gave her back a small semblance of power over her situation. She recalled one of her mother’s sayings: You can’t help what someone does to you but you do have control over your reactions. Her mother had always been a wise woman, Celia thought, as a pang of grief swept through her.