‘We have three RFC men here who managed to escape from a prisoner-of-war camp,’ Richard told her when she was shown down into the cellar. ‘Thankfully Pierre’s friend took them in and Pierre fetched them here.’
She glanced towards Harry but he was studiously ignoring her as he packed his bag, just as he had ignored her ever since she had told him they could only be friends.
‘The first two are not in too bad a shape,’ Richard continued, passing her the notes he had made on each patient. ‘This one here has a broken arm, which I’ve set so he can come back to the hospital with us tonight. The next one is severely malnourished to the point that he can’t even stand as yet and he also had a bad stomach infection, diarrhoea and sickness, as does the other one who is by far the worst. I should warn you he’s been whipped so be prepared when you change the dressings on his back.’ He lowered his voice then and told her, ‘Between you and me I don’t think much of his chances. He’s delirious and doesn’t even know where he is half the time. All you can do is get plenty of fluid into him, keep him cool and make him as comfortable as possible.’
She glanced towards the beds. One pilot had his arm in a sling and was dressed in some old clothes of Pierre’s, ready to leave. The other two looked very poorly indeed and her heart sank. It would all be up to her now and it seemed a heavy burden to bear, even so she managed a smile.
‘Thank you, I shall be fine. But go. It will be light soon and you’ll be more at risk if you don’t get off now.’
Harry was already helping the pilot up the stairs but after lifting his bag Richard paused to look at Holly. She had the feeling that he wanted to say something but, appearing to think better of it, he merely inclined his head and followed the others up the stairs and then the trapdoor slammed shut and she was in darkness save for the light issuing from the flickering oil lamp. She heard the heavy table and chairs being dragged back into place and for a moment she panicked. But taking a deep breath she looked towards her patients. Their lives depended on her and she would not let them down, she had to be strong for them.
The smell in the room was atrocious and it was all she could do to stop herself from gagging, but if the men had been as ill as Richard had told her she couldn’t have expected anything else. There was no window in the cellar so everything that came out of them had to be carted up to the cess pit in buckets. Thankfully Pierre did that job every evening as soon as it got dark.
She immediately began to do what she could for them, sponging them down with cool water and dripping fluid into their mouths, and a day later her efforts seemed to be paying off because one of the men appeared slightly better. He even managed to open his eyes at one point and when he saw Holly hanging over him he started but then relaxed when she smiled at him, before his eyes fluttered shut again. But not before she had seen the terror in them. He must have been imagining himself still in the POW camp.
Francine came down to the cellar whenever she could to take over so that Holly could snatch a few hours’ sleep and finally on the third day the stronger of the two men woke properly and even asked for a drink.
‘He is improving, yes?’ Francine asked with a smile and when Holly nodded she breathed a sigh of relief. Later the same day, James, as he introduced himself, even managed a few sips of some of Claudette’s nourishing chicken soup.
‘He’s still very weak,’ Holly explained to Pierre when he popped down to fetch the buckets later that evening. ‘But I think he’ll make it now. We just have to get him strong enough to get him back to the hospital.’
‘And Ben, the other one?’ Pierre looked towards the other young man who was still in a very bad way and who as yet had shown no signs of improvement despite Holly’s best efforts.
‘Still very poorly.’ She wiped her weary eyes. ‘And the wounds on his back are badly infected, although I think the ointment Claudette sent down for him has helped some of them slightly.’ The weals on his back went down almost to the bone in places and Holly had been forced to lie him on his stomach and let the air get to them. The diarrhoea and sickness had stopped but Holly knew that was only because he had nothing left inside him and he remained in a semi-conscious state.
For some reason Pierre did not seem to be his usual cheery self that evening so Holly asked carefully, ‘Is everything all right, Pierre?’
He shook his head. ‘I am afraid not, mademoiselle. There has been bad news from the hospital.’
‘Oh?’ Holly raised an eyebrow and removing his cap he began to twist it between his fingers. ‘The two doctors who were here when you first came have gone missing.’
‘Missing!’ Holly suddenly felt sick. ‘What do you mean … missing?’
‘Sister informed me that they went to another safe house in the village to attend to a pilot who had been shot down and while they were there the Germans came.’ There were tears in his eyes now and he had to swallow before he could go on. ‘The people who took the pilot in were good friends of mine but the Germans took them outside, the whole family, and shot them.’
‘A-and the doctors?’ Holly felt as if there was an invisible hand inside her twisting her gut.
‘One of them tried to stop the Germans and was shot himself. The other was taken prisoner.’
‘Which one?’
Pierre shrugged. ‘There is no way of knowing because once they had shot them all they set fire to their bodies as a lesson to anyone else who might wish to help the Allies. The bodies were unrecognisable.’
Holly sat down heavily on the end of James’s bed, feeling as if all the air had been knocked out of her, her world collapsing before her very eyes.
Was it Harry or Richard who had been taken prisoner? And even if it was Richard who they had taken, could he survive in one of their terrible POW camps? There was evidence right here of how the prisoners were treated.
‘You are all right, yes?’ Pierre gently laid his hand on her arm and she nodded woodenly.
‘The fear is now that the Germans may make a search of all the houses in the village,’ he continued gravely. ‘And so it is imperative that we get these men moved as soon as possible. When do you think they will be strong enough?’
Holly pulled herself together with an enormous effort. ‘Possibly the day after tomorrow for James if he continues as he is but this one …’ She looked at Ben and shrugged.
Pierre nodded. ‘Very well, I will go now.’
She watched him climb the ladder before giving way to the tears that had been threatening. Great wracking sobs that never seemed to end. Richard might be dead or languishing in some filthy prison somewhere. And I never told him how I really felt about him, she thought. But I mustn’t think about it, Holly scolded herself. And so she got on with her work as best she could although her heart was breaking.
James offered her what little comfort he could and wondered if perhaps one of the doctors had been her lover, but he didn’t ask, and Holly didn’t enlighten him.
Holly managed to snatch a few hours’ sleep that evening from sheer exhaustion but the moment she woke a cold hand clamped itself around her heart as she glanced towards Ben. He had died during the night. She checked his pulse and then gently covered him with a sheet before climbing the stairs and, after listening closely to make sure that the Le’Fetes were alone, she tapped on the trapdoor. It was Francine who opened it. Claudette was standing at the stove stirring a large pan of porridge and Holly quickly told her what had happened.
Claudette crossed herself, then told her daughter. ‘Run and fetch your father. We must get his body away from here as soon as possible, God rest his soul.’
She gently ushered Holly back down into the cellar and hastily closed the trapdoor. Sometime later it opened again and Pierre appeared with a neighbour. They silently descended the stairs and wrapped Ben in the sheet he was covered with before carrying him away.
‘I let him down,’ Holly sobbed when they were gone, as all the heartbreak of losing Richard and then her patient caught up with her. James managed to haul himself out of bed and shakily make his way over to her and she saw that he would be a very nice-looking young man if he wasn’t so skeletal.
‘Don’t you dare say that.’ He put his arm about her and tenderly stroked the tears from her cheeks. ‘I’d have gone the same way if it wasn’t for you. You’ve worked yourself into the ground for both me and Ben but sadly he had gone too far. No one could have saved him even if we could have got him to the hospital.’
They sat like that for some time, each drawing comfort from the other until suddenly the trapdoor flew open again and Pierre appeared, all of a fluster. ‘Come, we must leave straight away,’ he urged. ‘I have the wagon outside and there is no time to lose. The Germans are searching all the houses in the village and they will be here within the hour. I cannot risk you staying.’
‘But James is still very weak …’
‘I shall be fine if you’ll just help me up the stairs,’ he told her bravely as he reached for his shirt. And it was then that Pierre dropped his next bombshell.
‘I shall take James to the hospital. I know which route the Germans are taking so I can avoid them, all being well. But you must walk there with Francine. No one will think anything of two young girls strolling whereas if they find you in my wagon with James you will be killed, as we surely will be.’
‘But I—’
He held up his hand. ‘There is no time to argue. Help me to get him upstairs.’
Between them they somehow managed it, although James’s legs kept buckling beneath him which slowed them somewhat. Once up in the kitchen Francine slammed the trapdoor behind them and dragged the table into position as Claudette kept guard at the door.
‘It is all clear,’ she told her husband with a catch in her voice and as he passed her she kissed him tenderly and told him, ‘May God go with you, my love!’
They managed to get James into the back of the wagon then Pierre covered him with sacks of vegetables and set off without delay.
Meanwhile, Claudette handed a wicker basket to Holly and told her urgently, ‘Follow Francine and if you are stopped speak only in French. Remember, you are Francine’s cousin come to visit us.’
On an impulse, Holly threw her arms about the woman and kissed her soundly as Claudette returned her hug. She had come to think a lot of all of them and Claudette had been like a second mother to her during her stay there.
‘But what if they find the entrance to the trap door?’ Holly fretted. ‘They will only have to see the beds and they will know that yo—’
‘Go!’ Claudette ordered and on legs that suddenly felt as if they had turned to jelly Holly did as she was told.
‘We shall go through the woods,’ Francine told her. ‘It is slightly further but there is less chance of being seen that way, but if we are stopped we must say that we are visiting family.’
Holly nodded numbly as she followed her blindly into a large wood. The branches and brambles snagged at their clothes and when at one stage a small deer suddenly ran out straight in front of them Holly felt as if her heart had stopped. But Francine seemed to know where she was going so she followed her trustingly. Luckily Francine had played in these woods all her life and knew every inch of them so they made good progress, although Holly suddenly realised after an hour’s tramping across rough ground that she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Her chest was on fire and her legs ached but she kept going – there was no other choice. Eventually the sound of gunshots and explosions echoed around the barren trees and she knew they were getting closer to the front.
‘We shall leave the woods shortly,’ Francine told her. ‘And then it is but a short distance to the hospital. I will tell you the way but do not worry, you are back on safe ground now.’
‘But couldn’t you stay here till it’s safe for you to go home?’ Holly implored.
Francine stopped to drop a light kiss on her cheek as a lane appeared beyond the trees.
‘My place is with my family,’ she answered and for a moment the two girls stared at each other not knowing if they would ever see each other again.
‘I … I hope everything goes well for you. You are all very brave,’ Holly told her in a choked voice.
Francine shook her head. ‘No, it is you and your people who defend our country that are brave,’ she told her. ‘But now you must go. Walk straight down the lane and you will come to the door at the back of the sister’s office. Goodbye, my friend.’
She turned and skipped through the trees as nimbly as a fox and within seconds she was gone as Holly ventured out of the trees and set off down the lane with her heart thudding painfully. Eventually she came to the door that Francine had told her about and tapped on it tentatively. She must make sure that the sister was alone before she entered. It wouldn’t do to be seen in the clothes she was wearing.
Sister Flynn herself answered her knock and dragged her inside. ‘Oh my dear girl, thank goodness you are safe,’ she said. ‘Monsieur Le’Fete left a short time ago after delivering the patient and he told me what has happened. Those poor, poor people. But sit down, you’re shaking.’ She crossed to a filing cabinet and to Holly’s amazement produced a bottle of brandy. ‘Here, get that down you, it’s good for shock,’ she ordered after sloshing a large measure into a mug on her desk.
Holly sipped at it, almost choking as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat but almost instantly she began to feel warm and the trembling eased a little.
When she had finished every last drop as Sister insisted, she hurriedly changed into her own clothes again and the sister told her, ‘All of the nurses from your tent are on duty so by the time you get to see them you can say you returned today after extended leave. Meantime go and get some rest.’
Holly nodded and walked away with her head in a whirl. So much had happened in such a very short time that she could hardly get her head around it. Worst of all, though, was the terrible guilt she felt that by wishing so desperately for Richard to be alive, it meant that Harry was dead. Two good men, both of whom had loved her, and neither of whom deserved to die in such a terrible way. And if it was Harry who had been taken prisoner and they were to meet again, how could she ever face him knowing she had, in a roundabout way, wished he was dead? Yet as she lay sleepless in bed, it was Richard she prayed for, even though they could never be together.