Judith was in her office reading through the nurses’ training program she had drawn up. In the corridor outside, nurses were hurrying to the wards, chatting about their boyfriends in Britain. For the third time, she turned back to the report but couldn’t take any of it in. Knowing that Adam was under the same roof, breathing the same air, but as inaccessible as if he were on Jupiter, made her feel she was being skinned alive, one strip at a time.
When she had glanced up at his window that afternoon, she’d felt an impulse to go to him. There was still time to explain why she had become so distant, and admit that she still cared for him but didn’t want to stand in the way of his love for Elzunia. But when she came to the door of his ward, she saw him and Elzunia engrossed in what appeared an intimate conversation, and she had kept walking. By speaking out, she would only make a fool of herself. The pain and turmoil were bad enough without adding humiliation. Better to let him go on thinking she’d lost interest.
For the first time since her arrival in Germany, her thoughts strayed to the future. The hospital was running well now and she ticked off in her mind what she had accomplished. Under her regime, the health and morale of the patients had improved beyond anything she’d thought possible when she had arrived in this tragic place. But she had no illusions about being indispensable. Any competent matron could take over from her now. Perhaps it was time to move on.
With a sigh, she returned to her report when she heard a tap on the door. Elzunia was standing there with a resolute expression on her face.
‘Matron, I’m want to talk to you, please.’
Judith lay down the file. ‘Yes, what is it?’
‘I’m want to go,’ Elzunia said.
‘Go?’ Judith repeated. ‘Go where?’
‘Go from hospital.’
Judith gripped the fountain pen. Kathleen had already told her that Adam would be discharged in a day or two. So that was it. ‘I suppose you’ll be leaving together?’ she said through dry lips.
Elzunia nodded, surprised that Matron needed to ask whether she was taking the children.
Well, that takes care of my dilemma, Judith thought as she stared into space. She glanced at her watch and with an effort heaved herself to her feet. It was time for her ward round. ‘I’ll give you a reference,’ she said stiffly, and left the room.
She glanced perfunctorily at the patients’ charts and continued on her way without stopping to chat to anyone. When she came to the men’s ward, instead of hovering at the door to speak to the sister and then hurrying on, as she had been doing for the past two weeks, her eyes sought out the figure sitting by the window. Adam held a newspaper in his hands but was staring straight ahead. He turned and she was impaled on his stare. It was too late to retreat.
She walked slowly towards him. ‘I hear you’re leaving soon.’
He nodded.
There were razors in her throat. ‘Where will you go?’
‘Canada.’
‘They have very cold winters there,’ she said.
He gave a bitter laugh. ‘It will be less cold than in here.’
She looked down at her hands. ‘I suppose the children will enjoy the snow.’
He frowned. ‘What children?’
‘Zbyszek and Gittel. Elzunia’s taking them, isn’t she?’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I thought you … I thought Elzunia and you …’ She didn’t know how to finish.
He flung his newspaper aside. ‘Thought what?’
‘I thought Elzunia would be going with you,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Judith, what are you playing at?’ he shouted. ‘You told me in London that you were no good at games but I think you underestimated your deviousness and overestimated your honesty.’
‘You think I’ve been devious? What about you, pretending to care about me when all the time Elzunia was the one you wanted?’
His face was taut and white. ‘Cholera psia krew,’ he swore. ‘Bloody hell! You’re crazy, you know that? Absolutely crazy!’ He stared at her for a moment. ‘So this is what it’s been about! You decided I was in love with Elzunia. And you didn’t even think of asking me. You just assumed you knew it all.’
He was digging his fingers into her shoulder and she moved away from his grasp. She wanted to explain that it wasn’t like that, but he was too angry to listen. Whatever she said, she’d sound like a fool and, anyway, it was too late.
Her face was flaming and she couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I should have asked you. I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ he repeated. ‘You ruin everything and say sorry as if you’re late for lunch?’
She rose. There was no point prolonging this torture. She was already walking towards the door when he said, almost under his breath, ‘Judith, why didn’t you trust me?’
There was nothing she could say. His words resounded in her head as she strode to her office with a grim expression that defied anyone to stop her on the way. She closed the door but didn’t know what to do with herself. It reminded her of the time she had visited a friend’s sheep property near Bathurst and had sat on an ants’ nest. Thousands of furious insects had swarmed all over her but jumping up and down, stamping and flailing her arms had failed to dislodge them. She had wished she could run away from herself, and that’s how she felt now.
She had to get away to some secluded spot where no one would hear her shouting in frustration. After giving Kathleen instructions to take over, she hurried from the hospital. The morning air felt cool on her skin and as soon as she turned towards the woods, she breathed in the scent of pine needles and began to relax. Sunlight dappled the ground between the trees and larks were twittering in the branches. When she reached the clearing, she sat down at the base of a massive oak, leaned against its hard, ridged trunk, and closed her eyes. Somewhere a cuckoo was calling to its mate. Coming to the woods was usually as calming as a meditation, but this time her agitated mind would not be stilled.
What hurt most was knowing that it was all her fault. Arrogance and false pride. The cuckoo’s mate called back and the birds flew off. Judith scrambled to her feet and walked slowly back, shoulders hunched, head down. There was no escape from the pain and no solace in nature. As she returned through the hospital gate, she wondered whether she had thrown away her chance of happiness because she didn’t think she deserved to be loved.
Back at her desk, she tried to focus on the report again when there was a knock at the door. Probably morning tea.
‘No, thank you,’ she called out.
But the door opened and her heart stopped beating because Adam was standing there. She took a deep breath. From the look on his face, she supposed he’d come to tear strips off her again.
He was already inside the office and had closed the door behind him. ‘I want to know one thing,’ he said between clenched teeth. ‘If you didn’t want me, why didn’t you just say so? Or did you invent this absurd story because you didn’t have the courage to tell me the truth?’
‘If you think that, you don’t know the first thing about me,’ she said quietly.
‘How can I know you? You are completely irrational.’
Judith opened her mouth to justify herself and stopped. Words could never explain or convey the regret that threatened to choke her.
He was looking into her face with a searching expression. Then he gripped her arms and pressed her against him. Judith closed her eyes. When this moment ends, it will all be over, she thought.
‘Judith,’ he said hoarsely.
She held her breath.
‘When I woke up in here that day and saw you standing there, I knew there was a God,’ he whispered.
She tried to speak but no words came out, and all she could do was tighten her arms around him and press her face against his cheek. Then she looked up. For the first time since they had met, Adam was smiling.