THIRTY-FOUR

Phoebe

Stationary (Base) Hospital in Étaples, France

‘Here you go, Private,’ Phoebe said, slipping her arm around the young soldier’s back and lifting him so that he was in a more comfortable position to drink the tea she had waiting on the trolley next to his bed. ‘You’ll feel better after a warm drink.’

The soldier was shivering violently, either through cold or shock, she wasn’t sure which. Phoebe grabbed a spare blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, draping another one over his body. ‘You’ll soon warm up,’ she said, hoping she was right.

‘Don’t worry about me, Nurse,’ he said, taking the tea from her in his trembling hands and drinking a mouthful. ‘Ooh, tha’s good. Thanks.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t have much sugar but there’s a little in there for you.’

‘This is better than anything I’ve tasted for weeks,’ he said, taking another drink from the cup and swallowing. ‘It’s just good to be inside somewhere right now.’ He gave a nod in the direction of his feet, still encased in his boots, resting on the rubber matting she had been told to place under them so the sheets weren’t soiled by the mud. ‘I’m scared to take them off, in case me ruddy feet come with them.’

Phoebe knew he wasn’t joking; she had seen for herself how badly some soldiers succumbed to trench foot. ‘Sister will be here soon to let me know what she wants me to do. At least you’ve got a bed.’

‘I’m grateful for that,’ he said, a glint in his eyes. ‘I never thought I’d be so happy to have a bed to lie on.’

‘We aim to please,’ she said, trying to sound chirpier than she felt. New patients had streamed into the hospital almost constantly over the past few days, and they were in serious danger of running out of beds again, despite another two wards being built recently.

She left him to drink his tea and went to serve mugs to the rest of the ward. As Phoebe worked, she wondered what her sister was doing at that moment and if she was well and happy in Jersey. She hadn’t heard from Celia for a while. Maybe her sister was still cross with her about Archie? She hoped not. It wasn’t like Celia to hold onto something that annoyed her. Maybe her sister’s last letter had gone astray somewhere.

Phoebe heard shouting but didn’t take any notice once she saw that Sister and Doctor Parslow were with an hysterical newcomer. She hated hearing men scream in fear, it was worse than anything else she had dealt with during her time at the hospital, and this man was clearly very distressed.

‘Nurse Robertson!’ Phoebe recognised the urgency in Sister’s voice and immediately pushed the trolley to one side so that it wasn’t in anyone’s way, before hurrying to where Sister and Doctor Parslow were helping an orderly restrain the patient.

‘Run ahead and find Doctor Sutherland and warn him we’re sending a patient to him right away.’

Phoebe left the ward as quickly as she could and ran in the direction of the theatre wards where she supposed Doctor Sutherland was working. She raced into the scrub room and, not seeing the doctor or any qualified nurse, pulled back the canvas flap and went to step into the theatre.

Doctor Sutherland glanced up. ‘Get out!’

Phoebe stepped back, stunned by his tone. She had never heard Geoffrey use such aggression towards anyone.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ one of the nurses asked, keeping her distance from Phoebe as they stepped out of theatre. ‘You’re not allowed in there.’

‘But it’s an emergency,’ Phoebe explained.

‘Most of them are,’ the nurse said, her voice tired. She lifted the flap to return to assist the surgeon.

Concerned about what would happen to the patient in the ward if he didn’t get the immediate attention Sister had sent her here for, Phoebe stepped forward and raised her hand. ‘Wait. Please.’

‘What is it?’

She explained what had happened in the ward. ‘I’m not sure what’s wrong but he’s being brought here now. Sister told me to run ahead to warn the surgeon so he can be ready to receive him.’

‘Wait here.’

Phoebe watched the nurse go back into the theatre and heard Doctor Sutherland’s raised voice. He had always seemed so calm and polite when she had spoken to him before, and his kindness to his sister seemed to have come from another man entirely. Phoebe waited anxiously, aware that the patient would be brought in at any moment.

Shortly afterwards two orderlies carried in an unconscious patient and for the first time Phoebe understood the urgency. He was bleeding profusely, so much so that she wasn’t sure where the blood was coming from. Aware that they didn’t have long, she called out to Doctor Sutherland.

‘I’m sorry, Doctor,’ she shouted. ‘I know you’re busy but I think this man might bleed to death if he’s not seen immediately.’

Seconds later the door flap was flung backwards and Doctor Sutherland marched out, pulling off his gloves. He threw them into an almost-full metal bin to the right side of the door and grabbed another pair, immediately pushing his hands into them.

‘Nurse Robertson, go and assist the theatre nurse. She’ll need help finishing the dressing.’

Phoebe did as he asked, keeping her focus on helping the nurse who was bandaging the patient. They were soon finished and she moved back to give the orderlies room to take him away, and was about to leave when the next orderlies brought in the patient from her ward.

‘You may as well stay,’ Doctor Sutherland said. ‘I’m going to need both of you to help.’

Phoebe widened her eyes in fright. This was the first time she had been allowed inside a theatre, let alone been asked to help.

‘Just follow my lead,’ the nurse said quietly as the doctor cut away the patient’s clothing and began working on him.

Phoebe had to concentrate on breathing calmly. This was far more intense than anything she had done before, but as time wore on she realised she quite enjoyed being part of the operating team. She supposed it could be the adrenaline rush she felt as the three of them worked to save the man’s life.

After quite a few scary moments Doctor Sutherland seemed to have managed to slow and then stop the bleeding. ‘Go and call the orderlies to take him into recovery,’ he ordered. As Phoebe went to leave, he added, ‘Oh, and Nurse Robertson?’

‘Yes, Doctor?’

‘You did well. Good show.’

She didn’t know whether to thank him or carry out his order, and decided that a quick thank-you wouldn’t take any time. ‘Thank you. I enjoyed it,’ she said.

She ran out of the theatre before he could say anything further, and found that rather than feeling tired by what she had just experienced, she felt a strange sort of exhilaration.

She returned to the ward and checked on the trembling private that she had given the tea to earlier. Satisfied that he was now as comfortable as he could be, Phoebe made her excuses and left again, desperate to find somewhere quiet to read the letter she had received from Archie in that morning’s post.

Phoebe pushed her right hand into her skirt pocket and touched the envelope with his untidy handwriting on it. She was still sad not to have been able to marry him at the beginning of the year, but it couldn’t be helped. She knew they were lucky to have been able to spend those few precious days together and become engaged, and she hoped they would have the chance to arrange their wedding soon.

She walked to the end of the row of tents where new wards had been set up and, finding a solitary bench, sat down and read his letter.

My sweet Phoebe …

She stopped reading and closed her eyes, trying to summon the sound of his voice saying her name.

… I know I shouldn’t be writing to you at the hospital but I have to hope that Matron takes pity on me and allows this letter to reach you. I don’t have much time to write but needed to let you know that I am being sent back to the Front tomorrow.

Phoebe cried out and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘No, Archie.’ Surely he wasn’t fit enough to be sent back to his unit yet? She hurriedly read on to find out more.

This news isn’t totally unexpected, so please don’t worry about how I’m feeling about going back there. You may recall me mentioning that I could be in rather a lot of trouble for leaving the hospital. What I didn’t like to add was that my commander thought, probably rightly, that if I had the strength to ‘wander across the country to see my sweetheart’, then I was ‘well enough to join my unit’. After being examined by one of the doctors here at the hospital, I was given two months’ reprieve to allow me to have physio on my bad leg.

I am walking almost perfectly now, so I’m told, and my time lounging around the auxiliary hospital has come to an end. Please don’t worry about me, my darling girl, I’m a seasoned soldier now and know to keep my head well down and not take any chances. I have too much to lose to be careless.

Who knows, I might even end up being sent your way to give you even more work to do. Please take very good care of yourself and hopefully one day soon we will be with each other again and finally have our turn at being married.

My deepest love, as always,

Your Archie x

Phoebe stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Noticing the ink on one of the words blurring, she tried to work out why. Then it occurred to her that she was crying. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her fingers and, kissing the bottom of the letter, folded it and placed it back in its envelope before slipping it into her pocket.

Archie was being sent back to the Front. She had been naïve to believe he was safe from danger. She couldn’t regret their wonderful two days together in the New Year but would have given them up to know he was forever safe. ‘Oh, Archie.’

‘Talking to yourself?’ a deep voice asked, making her jump.

Phoebe leapt to her feet and turned to see who had spoken. ‘How long have you been there?’ she asked, as the man stepped forward from the shadows and she saw that it was Geoffrey.

‘I’ve just arrived.’ He frowned and peered into her face. ‘You’re crying. What’s the matter? Was it me snapping at you earlier?’

He looked horrified to be the cause of her upset and Phoebe hated to think that he believed his actions had provoked her tears. ‘No. It wasn’t you.’

‘Is there something I can do for you, Phoebe?’

She shook her head, wishing it hadn’t been Geoffrey who had found her crying. ‘No,’ she said, wiping her damp cheeks again.

‘Has somebody done something to upset you?’

‘I was reading a letter from my fiancé,’ she said, feeling a bit embarrassed. ‘I thought Jocasta might have mentioned something to you.’

‘Ahh, Captain Bailey,’ Geoffrey said quietly. ‘Jocasta happened to mention him in one of her letters. I hope you don’t mind. I gather he came to visit you quite unexpectedly and stayed in the village for a couple of days.’ He smiled, although Phoebe felt it was forced. She could see he was feeling as awkward as her now.

‘I see.’

‘I seem to recall Captain Bailey was a patient here a while back.’

‘I know it’s not allowed,’ she said, ashamed to have been caught out, especially by someone she respected so well.

‘Don’t worry on my account,’ he said. ‘I’m aware these things happen. They’re bound to, when you have people working and living in such close quarters, and especially during such a surreal time.’ He rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘Am I wrong in presuming it was a troubling letter?’

Phoebe looked at his hand and then up into his eyes and, seeing the concern on his face, took hold of her emotions. ‘It was.’

‘Is it anything I may be able to help you with?’

She shook her head. ‘Thank you.’ He was her friend and he and his sister had been extremely kind to her, despite not knowing her at all well. ‘But no, there’s nothing you can do to help. I’m grateful to you for offering, though.’

‘There’s no need for your gratitude, Phoebe. Your friendship has made an enormous difference to my sister’s life.’

‘It has?’

‘Yes. Since your stay at the house she seems to have come alive again. It’s something I had never expected might happen, despite my hopes that the day would eventually come when Jocasta saw some joy in her life again. If anyone should feel gratitude, then it’s me.’

She was surprised by his words but delighted that she had inadvertently helped such a dear friend. Two dear friends. ‘Jocasta is a kind and thoughtful woman, and no one should ever have to suffer as she has done.’

He sighed and motioned for her to take a seat. Once Phoebe was seated, Geoffrey sat next to her on the bench and, crossing one leg over the other, rested his hands on his knee. ‘I agree. Unfortunately, though, there are no doubt hundreds of thousands of young wives who have found themselves in the same unenviable position as Jocasta.’ He sighed heavily. ‘And if this war doesn’t end sometime soon, then I fear there will be hundreds of thousands more.’

Phoebe shuddered.

‘You’re cold,’ Geoffrey said. ‘You need to go back inside. We don’t want you coming down with a chill, especially when so many other nurses are in the sick bay.’

He was right, but she wasn’t ready to return to the dorm yet. To do so would mean having to speak to people, however kindly they might be. The only other place was the canteen, but again she would end up having to speak to someone.

‘I’ll sit here for another few minutes yet,’ she said. ‘But only a couple. I promise.’

He stood and stared down at her. ‘You make sure you do. I would hate to have to write and tell Jocasta that I hadn’t been looking out for you. She’d never forgive me if you fell unwell here at the hospital.’

Phoebe smiled, recalling Jocasta saying almost the same thing to her about Geoffrey expecting her to look out for her. ‘I’ll go inside very soon. I just need a little more time to think.’ And cry, she thought, but didn’t say that bit aloud.