A sleepless night had left Flora feeling empty. Her mind had gone over and over the events of the night before. Her heart ached for the restless Mags. Aliz had fallen into a fitful sleep, calling out and her body shaking with rebound sobs.
And now, with the early morning, Flora faced her hated attacker again. He stood next to Herr Aldelstein, behind the highly polished desk. His glare directed towards her held contempt, as he interpreted what was being said.
‘Herr Aldelstein directs that you will explain your bruising as having happened during the fighting yesterday, when a stray shell hit the building across the street.’
Flora nodded and saw out of the corner of her eye that Mags – whose poor face was blighted by a swollen black eye – did, too. They both knew that the outer signs of having been hurt were nothing compared to what they were coping with emotionally, or to the pain and soreness that Mags felt, from having been violated.
This morning she’d spoken about it and had said that she was hanging on to the fact that her rapist had been interrupted, and so wouldn’t have made her pregnant. She’d looked around at them all and had pleaded with them never to tell a soul. ‘Not even when the war is ended. Please. I couldn’t bare for anyone but us to know.’
They had made a pact. They’d sealed it by crossing their arms and all holding hands. Ella had said that she would always be there for them both, and the others had joined in saying they would, too. They’d gone into a group hug that had held love – nurtured by the situation they found themselves in – but which Flora felt would last long after they parted. The hug had included Aliz, who’d left early this morning with all their good wishes, in the hope that she would be accepted as a volunteer worker.
‘You are to be put to use, while you await your orders from the British Red Cross. Herr Aldelstein has spoken to the Belgium Red Cross director, Monsieur Reynard. They are coping with the wounded from the recent engagements and need your assistance. The Royal Palace, which was being used for this purpose, has been recommissioned. There are no wounded or dead left outside the gates. The rumours about this are untrue. Monsieur Reynard will send transport for you.’
Flora was glad to get out of the office, and away from the insult in every look that the soldier gave her.
‘Well, I – for one – am jolly glad to be doing something at last. But I hope our orders come through soon. Come on, girls, let’s wait outside, I hate the atmosphere in here,’ Teddy muttered.
Teddy had told them that her real name was Tamara Bear, but that she’d quickly been nicknamed ‘Teddy’ by her school friends. She seemed to Flora to be a most unlikely girl to have taken up nursing, being what you would term a horsey type. During their chats she had told of excelling in gymkhana events, and that she hoped to work with horses one day. There wasn’t much that you could say was attractive about her. Her tall frame was almost manly; she had light-brown hair that she fashioned into a bun; she was shortsighted, wearing small, round glasses that she peered out of, as if they didn’t really help her eyesight; and her protruding teeth did nothing to help her appearance. But for all that, Teddy came across as a good-natured soul, ready with her smile, and she was happy to go along with the crowd and do her bit.
Once outside, the sun shone down warmly on them and lifted Flora’s spirits. She gazed across at the cafe where they’d sat yesterday and wondered how the women they’d met were coping. On the columns of the hotel, notices were posted that hadn’t been there yesterday. One told of a curfew, another of certain buildings that were to be requisitioned. The Metropole was the first on the list of this notice.
Jane stood next to Teddy and was dwarfed by her. Small and quiet, she was a pretty, curly-haired girl, with freckles covering her face. She hadn’t spoken much at all, but had shown concern and kindness to Mags, holding her hand and making sure she could manage her tea, when they had returned to the room the night before.
Martha’s tinkling laughter could be heard as she joined Teddy and Jane. Martha was the practical sort, and got on with things without moaning about them. She had a good sense of humour and seemed to find a lighter side to everything. Blonde and good-looking rather than pretty, she was the same average height as Ella and Flora were, though inclined to a little plumpness.
Phyllis took charge again. ‘Look, girls, I think we should assert ourselves right away. We are not going to be skivvies to the Belgium lot, and neither are our volunteers. We have specific skills, and they are to use us to the best possible advantage of the patients. Flora, you will be spokesman of course, but make sure you get across that we want to work as a team and they should assign us as such.’
She had an air about her that commanded attention. Tall, like Mags, but not of Teddy’s height, Phyllis was quite a striking girl, with her red hair and flashing green-brown eyes. Her features were clear-cut, and her manner was precise.
No one protested at Phyllis’s air of authority. At least she wasn’t being as dictatorial as she had been when they’d first met yesterday, and was showing her caring side.
Flora looked at Mags, whose pale face and pensive expression prompted her to ask, ‘Are you sure you’re up to going with us, Mags?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I don’t feel well, but I’m not staying there on my own, Flors. Don’t let them send me back.’ She was broken; the spirited girl ready to take on the world had gone. Flora prayed she would come back in time.
‘If it wasn’t for being needed to translate, I would stay there with you. But I promise I won’t let them send you back on your own. Try to buck up a little. I know it isn’t easy, as I feel some of what you are going through. I was just lucky that the officer came in time to stop— Oh, Mags, I’m desperately sorry.’
A tear had seeped out of Mags’s swollen eyes. Its trickle sent sorrow coursing through Flora. She hadn’t known Mags long, but she had known a very different girl from the one standing beside her now. Even Mags’s stance told of defeat. There was nothing Flora could say to make things right, so she tucked her arm into Mags’s and huddled close to her.
A Red Cross truck pulled up and a woman alighted from the driver’s seat. ‘Vite, vite, Mesdames.’ A torrent of instructions followed, which Flora had a problem keeping up with. But the woman gave no leeway and hurried them on. Her glance at Flora held astonishment, as her eyes fell on her bruised cheek; but then, when she looked at Mags, her mouth dropped open. The shock registered in her voice. Flora translated: ‘What is this – how did you get hurt? Are you fit to work?’
‘We are, Madame.’ The lie they had been told to tell, concerning the stray shell, rolled easily off Flora’s tongue. To the woman’s objections about them going to the hospital, Flora explained that she was needed to interpret, and then begged her to reconsider taking Mags, saying that it would be uncomfortable for Mags to be left in the hotel with the German soldiers.
The woman didn’t seem to be taken in by the story. She stared at them for a long moment and then, as if making up her mind not to press them further, she nodded, before introducing herself as Madame Brecket. Then she told them that they had to prepare themselves, as there were many injured. Mostly French soldiers who, once they were well, would be sent to prison camps. ‘So they are mentally and emotionally upset, too.’ Looking at Mags as she spoke again, Flora translated to her that Mags would only be allowed to go with them if she agreed to work in the sluice. Madame Brecket felt that Mags’s and Flora’s appearance would further upset the soldiers, and so they would be required to wear a mask at all times to cover their bruising. It was as an afterthought that Madame Brecket softened and told them how sorry she was that they had come to her country to help, only to be injured.
This last comment made her human, as did her smile when she spoke. Flora could feel the tension easing amongst the others at these kind words, and an eagerness to get on with the job seized her.
The sight of the Royal Palace gave Flora a pang of homesickness, as the front of the building was so similar in appearance to Buckingham Palace, with its three sets of columns. Inside, its sumptuousness belied the purpose it was now being put to. Flora felt in awe of the gleaming gold-and-crème interior, the huge chandeliers and the polished wooden floor that shone like a mirror.
As they followed the matron they’d been assigned to, Phyllis went into her usual organizational mode. ‘Look, Flora, I think we’ll be best served by you not having a particular duty, but helping us all with communication. You could float and be ready to come to our aid, if needed. Ask Matron if she is in agreement with that.’
Matron agreed to Phyllis’s suggestion, though Flora insisted that she first settle Mags to her tasks.
A change came over Mags once they entered the two rooms that had been adapted for their purpose. The long kitchen with a bathroom leading off it was overpoweringly hot, and full of steam. Pans boiled away on the stove, next to which stood a pile of bloodied bandages and buckets full of dirty instruments. When they walked through to the bathroom, the smell knocked them back for a moment, as bottles of urine were stacked in the bath, with bedpans of excrement piled high in a corner.
‘Right, I’ve work to do. You can leave me now, Flors. I’ll be fine. With this lot to sort out, I’ll have no time to dwell on things.’
Relief overcame Flora at this. ‘You sound like your old self. But are you sure, Mags?’
‘I am. There’s nothing like seeing the need of others to lessen your own pain.’
A voice behind them got them turning round. ‘I am here to help.’
‘Aliz! Oh, Aliz, they took you on!’
‘Oui.’ Aliz held a handkerchief over her mouth against the stench.
‘It takes a bit of getting used to, but that’s the first rule of nursing – empty a bedpan without retching, and you know you will make it. It took me a week of doing it to cope.’
Before Aliz could answer Flora, she was swept into Mags’s arms. The two girls held each other for a moment.
Flora swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, ‘How did you explain the state you are in? Oh, poor Aliz, your neck is all bruised.’
‘As is all of my body, and my soul. I told them that I was hurt when I fell off my bicycle, and that I no longer wanted to work at the hotel, now that the Germans were there. They understood. I told them that you English nurses had helped me, and as my clothing was ruined, you had dressed me in one of your uniforms. And that I had decided to keep it on, as it would help me to get an interview with the director. And it did! They said they had no time to train me, but that I could help with cleaning jobs and serving the meals, which is what I am used to doing. I have been given two grey dresses to wear, and Red Cross armbands. The director told me they will keep me safe. I – I think he saw through my story . . .’
‘But he didn’t ask you any more?’
‘Non.’
‘Well then, we have no need to worry. He must be a very wise man. The main thing is that you are all right, Aliz. Right, Mags, I have to get back. Tell me what you want Aliz to do and I’ll give her instructions, before I go.’
Once more Mags showed that she was in control as she organized the sterilization of the instruments as their first job. ‘We can’t touch anything in the bathroom until we have done that, as we will become contaminated. Flors, can you ask for extra help for us – there’s a massive task here for just the two of us.’
‘I’ll try, Mags, but from what I’ve heard, they are very short-handed.’ After translating to Aliz what Mags had said, Flora left, telling them that she would be back as soon as she could.
The sights and sounds that met Flora in the makeshift ward appalled her. Men called out in agony, and it seemed to her that there was a sea of blood – beds were covered in it, as were the bandages on the men, and splashes of blood covered the walls. But there was organization, too, as nurses bustled about, cleaning up and administering to the patients.
Flora’s heart went out to the broken men, and to the young nurses trying to cope with it all. Not sure what to do first, she felt inadequate, and knew at that moment that her training hadn’t been sufficient. How can I make a difference to all this?
‘Flora, over here.’
Teddy called out, and Flora ran over. Finally she was needed, and no matter how small her contribution, it would make a difference.
‘Please ask this young man to try and keep still. I am attempting to set his leg.’
How was it that these young ladies were expected to carry out such a massive task? But then, as she looked around, Flora realized there was no one else who could do so. From Matron down, the dozen or so nurses were all engaged in carrying out what would usually be done in an operating theatre: stitching wounds that gaped, digging out bullets and doing what they could for shattered limbs. In one corner a doctor sawed away at a soldier’s arm, his cries of agony almost drowning the pain of the other patients.
Soothing the soldier whose leg Teddy was trying to set wasn’t easy. ‘Here, bite on this. Nurse Bear is strong – she can pull your leg back into place. It will hurt, but once done, it will give you a chance to walk normally again, when you have healed.’
‘To fight again, you mean. Nurse, I need to escape or they will send us to the camps. Our lives will be a misery. Please, you must help those of us who are not so badly wounded to escape.’
Flora had been warned during her training that this would happen. They were told that they must always remain neutral. Their job was to tend the wounded, no matter what side they were on, but not to get involved or do anything other than a nurse’s duties.
‘I’m sorry – I can’t. No doubt, when you are stronger, you will come up with a plan. But to get to that point: you have to let Nurse Bear do her job. Be brave.’ She gave him a rolled-up bandage to bite on.
His hand gripped hers so tightly that the pain became almost unbearable for her, but Flora didn’t complain. Sweat dripped from Teddy as she struggled to pull the broken bones into place. Eventually she managed it, just as the soldier passed out, and as Ella called for Flora’s assistance.
‘You go to Ella, Flora. I can manage now. As long as he is unconscious, I can get the splint into place easily.’
Flora crossed the room and found she was needed to help a young man of similar age to herself, whose eyes held fear. ‘Mon nom est Flora. Je suis Anglaise. Quel est votre nom?’
‘El – Elvan.’
Speaking in French, she told him, ‘Elvan, everything is going to be all right. You’re in safe hands.’
‘Non! I – I die.’
‘You speak some English?’
‘A little. I am from Normandy.’
His accent was endearing. That he should try to speak her language in the last moment of his life touched her. ‘We can speak French. Would you like me to contact someone for you?’
His eyes filled with tears. Speaking in his own language, his voice unsteady, he told her, ‘I have my grand-mère only. Sh – she brought me up. She lives in Morlaix. Rue de Chantelle, quatorze. Her name is Louisa Garrot. Please tell her that I died a brave man. And – and that I love her.’
‘Whatever it takes, I will get that message to her, Elvan.’
‘Merci. Please . . . tell the nurse who holds my hand that she is very beautiful and has brought me comfort.’
Flora swallowed her tears.
‘And – and you. You have done me a great . . . ser—’
Elvan’s breath became laboured and then his eyes gently closed. Flora instinctively stroked his blond hair. His lips quivered into a small smile, giving a boyish look to his handsome face, but it quickly fell away as his last breath shuddered from his body.
Flora let go of her tears. Ella’s hand came into hers, sharing her grief and shock.
No one so young should die like this, far away from home, Flora thought. But at least she had a message for his loved one. She would write to his grandmother as soon as she could. And she knew in that moment that she could make a difference.