TWENTY-ONE

Phoebe

The train journey to the docks took far longer than the few hours Phoebe had imagined, but at least she was able to spend that extra time with Archie, as she’d volunteered to keep an eye on the men who, like Archie, were mostly strong enough to walk. And with the nursing staff being kept busy, Phoebe and Archie had managed a few stolen moments alone.

‘I wish you were coming with me to work at the new hospital,’ he said quietly when they found themselves alone in a carriage with only other sleeping patients. ‘I’m dreading being stuck in a ward without being able to look forward to your beautiful, smiling face coming in each day.’ He gave her a wistful sigh. ‘You really have made my stay in France such a different experience to what it could have been. It was so much more …’ he struggled to find the words, ‘I don’t want to say “enjoyable”, because it was hardly that.’

‘I’m glad I made a difference.’ Phoebe grinned.

He reached for her and rested his fingers on her chin. ‘When I first arrived there, I thought my life as I knew it was over. I had lost my two closest pals, who had joined up after I persuaded them to. We were neighbours and went to school together.’

Phoebe watched his face as he reminisced. ‘I hadn’t realised,’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you mention your friends to me before?’

He looked at her, his dark eyes seeming brighter in his sadness. ‘I couldn’t speak about them before without needing to cry,’ he admitted quietly. ‘And I didn’t want you to see me being weak.’

‘I could never think of you as weak, Archie. You’re one of the strongest men I know.’

‘How can you say that? You’ve only ever known me as a patient.’

‘Maybe,’ she said, wanting him to see himself as she saw him. ‘But don’t forget that I know how you face pain. I’ve seen you having to endure operations and procedures during your recovery. I’ve witnessed your reaction when the hospital was bombed and we were so near to the blast. You’re a brave man, Archie, and I won’t hear anyone, especially you, say otherwise.’ He went to argue, but she continued speaking. ‘And if you’re going to say that men shouldn’t cry, then I’ll have to disagree with that. It’s a release of emotion that we all have a right to. In particular, all you men who’ve faced the horrors of war and coped with months of operations after being wounded. You’ve earned the right to react as you see fit. If you need to cry, then cry. I certainly won’t think any less of you.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘You are an amazing woman, Phoebe Robertson. Do you know that?’

She leaned forward and, checking that the other patients were still asleep, kissed him. ‘I know that I love you and that I’m going to miss you terribly when I return to France, and you’re not there each day.’

He raised her hands to his lips and then slipped a hand behind her head and gently brought her head to his so that his lips could meet hers again. ‘You’ll at least be busy,’ he said afterwards. ‘Whereas I’ll have little to do but think about you and try to imagine what you’re doing.’

‘You’ll know exactly what I’m doing.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll be washing out bedpans, changing soiled linen and dressings. Just the usual, I imagine.’

‘Will you write to me?’

She gazed at him and her heart contracted to see the hope in his face. She hated to make him unhappy but knew that there were rules she must abide by while she worked as a VAD. ‘You know we’re not allowed to form attachments to patients, Archie. I can try to find a way, but I’m not sure quite how just yet.’

‘Then I’ll think of something,’ he promised. ‘There’s nothing stopping you from writing to me from your friend’s home in Cornwall though, is there?’

She thought about it. ‘I suppose if I write to you as someone else, then that should be fine. No one will be able to trace it back to me.’

His mouth drew back in a wide, happy smile. ‘That sounds perfect.’ He grinned at her. ‘Any idea what name you’ll use?’

‘Why?’ she asked, amused; then a thought occurred to her. ‘Do you have other women who’ll be sending you letters from Cornwall?’

He laughed and she covered his mouth to quieten him when one of the other patients stirred. ‘Sorry.’

Phoebe shook her head. ‘Well, do you?’

‘You know I don’t. I’m merely intrigued to know what name I’ll be receiving correspondence from.’

Phoebe gave his question some thought. ‘My second name is Medina, after my maternal grandmother, so I suppose I could use that, and her maiden name was Glenn. I doubt anyone could find out the connection to me,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I’ll sign my letters off as “Miss Medina Glenn”.’

He beamed at her. ‘Perfect.’ He kissed his fingers and placed them on her lips. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Medina Glenn. I look forward to receiving your letters.’

‘I look forward to the freedom of being able to send them to you.’ She really did. It would be an added bonus to staying in Cornwall. ‘I’m also looking forward to being able to act like any other couple who are kept apart from one another. It’s a shame it’ll only be for ten days, though.’

‘It is.’ He looked glum but then cheered slightly. ‘We’re not going to allow ourselves to be sad. We’re lucky to have this trip together and the next ten days corresponding. I’m going to make the most of it.’

‘I will too.’ She would, Phoebe decided. She was also going to spend the time trying to work out how they could continue to keep in touch once her holiday was over and she was back at the hospital. There had to be a way for them to manage it, surely.

* * *

The boat trip was delayed for a few hours but the stormy weather abated slightly once they departed from France.

‘Eugh, if this is better weather,’ Phoebe said, holding a bag in front of her in case her seasickness worsened, ‘then I hate to think how it was for the poor souls who came over from England earlier today.’

Archie stroked her back. ‘It is rather rough.’

She would have laughed at his understatement if she hadn’t feared vomiting when she did so. ‘How are you doing so well?’

‘I grew up going out in my father’s boat,’ he said.

‘Your father had a boat?’ She knew he grew up in a seaside village but for some reason hadn’t thought that his family might have a boat.

‘Yes. He used to love going out fishing and would take me and my sister with him when the weather was fine. When I was older and my sister had found other pursuits, he took me out even more often, and I loved it when a storm brewed and the sea got a bit rougher.’

She couldn’t imagine choosing to be out in rough waters. ‘And you weren’t frightened?’

‘Not at all,’ he said, gazing out to sea as if recalling those special times. ‘I found it exhilarating.’ He turned to her. ‘I think I expected to find the same rush of excitement when I enlisted.’ He laughed but it was a hollow, haunted sound that saddened Phoebe. She went to speak but he took her wrist. ‘Come along.’

‘Where?’

‘Out on deck.’

Was he mad? ‘No, it’s too stormy out there. We’ll get washed away.’

‘We won’t, I promise you. It’s sheltered at the back.’ He gave her wrist a gentle tug and Phoebe stood and waited for him to do the same. ‘You’ll feel much better in the fresh air.’

She doubted she would but felt too nauseous to argue, and was at the point of being willing to try anything, just to overcome her seasickness.

As they left their seats and made their way to the back of the boat, Phoebe had to keep grabbing hold of seats and anything she could reach to stop herself falling over. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ she said through waves of nausea.

‘It is,’ he insisted, grabbing her to stop her from falling and almost toppling over himself. ‘Blast, I keep forgetting I only have one good leg.’

‘Please be careful,’ she groaned. ‘I’ll be in for it if you arrive in England worse than when you left the hospital.’

‘I’m fine.’ He took her hand. ‘Now, come with me, we’re nearly there.’

They stepped outside and the gust of freezing air that slammed into Phoebe’s face took her breath away. ‘Gosh, it’s so cold out here,’ she cried as sea spray dampened her face. ‘Are you sure we wouldn’t be better off back inside where it’s at least dry?’

He shook his head. ‘Not yet.’

She realised he was staring at her with an expectant look on his face. ‘What is it?’

‘I was wondering if you still felt as unwell.’

Phoebe realised she didn’t. She laughed despite the cold and wet. ‘No, actually. I feel much better.’

‘Happy to remain out here for a bit longer then?’

‘Yes.’ Finally able to think of something other than her stomach, she recalled him saying how he had expected to feel exhilarated by warfare. ‘We all expected something different to how it really is in France,’ she said. ‘I know I certainly did.’ She tucked her scarf under the lapels of her coat. ‘It’s probably a good thing, though.’

‘In what way?’

‘I suppose most of us wouldn’t have joined up if we had known exactly what to expect.’ She pushed her hands deep into her pockets to try and warm them. ‘Some would have because it’s the patriotic thing to do, but I’m not so sure I would have been as determined to come to France if I’d known how mucky the job of a VAD really was.’

He leaned on the railing and stared at her. ‘What did you expect?’

She gave his question some thought. ‘I’m not really certain. I suppose I imagined something that would keep my mind too busy to miss my family. Maybe I expected the work to be a little more glamorous.’ She smiled. ‘I thought I would be part of a sisterhood of heroines helping rescue our men from the horrors of war.’

‘And you don’t think that’s what you’ve been doing?’

‘No.’

‘I think it’s exactly what you VADs and nurses do.’

‘What, washing mud off men and running back and forth to the laundry, carrying heaps of bloodied bandages and soiled linen?’ She winced. ‘Hardly the stuff of Florence Nightingale.’

He pushed his free hand into her pocket and took her hand in his. The intimate action warmed her soul and reminded her that she was not as alone as she had felt for so long.

Archie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘What you do is give hope to men who had all but given up. Your kind words and gentle touch and care slowly work through the layers of our pain and wounds, our guilt for surviving when our friends haven’t, and reassure us that there are still some things that are orderly and trustworthy. It’s the greatest gift, or at least it was to me.’

His thoughtful words touched her deeply and Phoebe couldn’t think what to say.

‘I hope I haven’t embarrassed you by saying that?’ he asked, looking uncertain.

She shook her head. ‘Not at all. I’d just never thought about what I did in that way. I’ve always admired the doctors and nurses, and I suppose I felt inadequate, thinking that all I was doing was clearing up mess for the most part.’

‘You shouldn’t. We are all cogs in the war machine, with none of us less important or vital than the others.’

She wasn’t sure he was completely right about that but didn’t wish to argue. It was lovely to hear him saying such kind things about her and the other VADs, and it made her proud that she was at least trying to do her best. ‘Thank you,’ she said eventually.

Phoebe turned to look at the wake stretching out behind the boat that was taking them further with each second from France and the fighting. For the first time since their journey began Phoebe started to relax. No having to worry about being strafed or bombed. No need to sleep with an ear cocked in case of an emergency. No need to wash her hands a hundred times a day to clean away the blood and muck from her skin. No Archie.

Her mood dipped and she turned her hand in her pocket and gripped his tightly. ‘I’m going to miss you so much,’ she said, her lips near to his ear.

He gave her hand a squeeze as he turned to kiss her. ‘I will miss you too, my sweet girl. But I will at least have the comfort of knowing that you will be safe in Cornwall. The sea air will be good for you.’

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she admitted. ‘Although I’m a little wary about meeting Doctor Sutherland’s sister. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she resents him inviting me to stay with her?’

‘I can’t imagine anyone resenting you. She’ll probably end up being a firm friend after your stay there.’

‘I like that idea. I do hope we will get along well.’

‘I’m sure you will. And if not, then you’re only there for a short period of time.’

Several heavy drops of rain landed on Phoebe’s forehead, making her flinch.

‘We should go inside now, if we don’t wish to be soaked,’ Archie suggested.

She laughed as they unsteadily left their hold on the railing and stumbled back to the door and inside the boat. ‘Phew, that was a little hairy.’

She rested her back against the wall, grabbing onto a door frame. Archie stumbled as the boat dipped to one side and Phoebe wrapped her free arm around his waist to steady him.

‘That was close,’ he said, holding onto her. The boat then tipped the other way, forcing Archie’s body against hers. ‘Oof, sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ she said, leaning forward so her lips met his. ‘You can lean against me any time.’

‘Lean? Or press against you?’ he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Phoebe laughed. ‘Both.’

‘How are we ever going to survive being apart?’ he asked, quietly kissing her again.

‘I’ve no idea.’

* * *

As the hours passed and the time neared for them to part, Phoebe found the thought of watching Archie go more and more painful to contemplate.

‘We’ll be at Victoria Station soon,’ she said miserably as they sat in the silent train carriage, the other occupants lost in an exhausted sleep. ‘I can’t bear not to see you, Archie.’

‘I know, my sweet. I’m dreading having to say goodbye to you, but I’m trying to find comfort in knowing that you will be resting at the coast with the good doctor’s sister. It will do you good.’ He looked at her and smiled and Phoebe’s heart beat a little faster as she looked into his dark eyes. ‘I know that we will see each other again.’

‘We have to. I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you.’

‘I promise you haven’t seen the last of Archie Bailey yet.’ He grinned before quickly kissing her on the tip of her nose. ‘We have an awful lot of living to do together yet, my sweet Phoebe.’

They sat holding hands behind a newspaper that Archie was pretending to read, exchanging the occasional kiss when it was safe to do so and relishing every stolen second together.

Phoebe felt the train slow. Two of the other men stirred. ‘We’re nearly there,’ she said, only just managing to hold in a sob.

She felt Archie’s fingers give hers a gentle squeeze and he bent behind his paper to give her one last kiss. ‘You make the most of your rest in Cornwall, Nurse Robertson, you hear me?’

She forced a watery smile. ‘I’ll do my best.’

The train drew to a halt and the doors began opening. ‘Write to me and I’ll find you.’

‘Promise?’ she asked.

‘Always.’