The cold air managed to seep through Flora’s jumper. Even the coat she had on, one of three brought to Hendrix’s home by a kindly Belgian woman, didn’t stop her body shivering. Part of it, she knew, was fear.
It had taken a lot of gentle persuading to get Mags to abandon her uniform, but at last she’d seen the sense of it, on the proviso that they took their Red Cross armbands with them. Not wanting these to be found by anyone interested enough to carry out a search, they’d sewn them into the hems of their skirts. From now on, the three of them were to become innocent Belgian girls.
The ambulance trundled along, shaking them as if to rattle their bones. It was twenty past midnight and, with no other vehicles on the road, Flora leaned back in relief. Some sense of being safe entered her. She squeezed both hands that were holding hers, as they all sat huddled together on the floor next to the stretcher-bed, which ran the length of one side of the ambulance. One other woman sat in the front, next to the driver. She’d been introduced as the nurse who worked in the coal mine. No other information was given to them, and they didn’t ask.
‘Keep down.’
Just before she bobbed down, Flora saw that they were approaching a German checkpoint. She hurriedly translated the driver’s urgent instruction to Mags and Ella. Ella’s head came down on her shoulder. Flora could feel her fear. Mags’s grip tightened on the hand she held, as the ambulance came to a halt.
Shivering and feeling sick, Flora tried to decipher what was going on. The driver and the nurse told the guards that they were a miners’ ambulance, going to pick up a patient. They were immediately asked to produce their papers.
A torch shone in through the window. Flora held her breath. Relief flooded through her as she felt the revs of the engine and the ambulance move off once more.
Dawn broke as they arrived in Fleurus. The driver gave directions to them and wished them luck.
Snowflakes danced in the gentle but icy breeze, as they made their way to the tram. They walked in silence through a broken town – eerie in the half-light of the receding moon. Jagged beams pointing to the sky, and gaping holes in the walls of houses, told the story of the fight that had taken place here; of the lives lost, and of those torn apart. Rubble littered the pavement, making their progress slow as they made their way to the tram station.
‘Are you all right, Flors? You’ve been very quiet since we left the ambulance.’
‘Not really, Ella. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be “all right” again. All this destruction, and you can almost smell the misery of the people – wherever they are.’
‘I know. You feel as though you’d like to make everything right for them.’
‘We have to make everything right for ourselves first, Ella. We’ve a long way to go before we get home to safety.’
In the beginning it would be Mags jollying them along, every step of the way. Now, though the strain of it weighed heavily, Flora had taken on the challenge. ‘We do have a long way to go, but we’ll make it. We’re together, that’s the main thing. Right, there’s the tram station. We’ll soon be in Liège.’
‘What will you do when you get home, Flors?’
‘Spend time with my family, and write letters to the families of Phyllis, Teddy, Jane and Martha. I still feel their loss, although I haven’t spoken much about it. I hope that, even though they may have had one service for them, they will agree to me holding another one.’
‘Oh, that’s a lovely, if very sad and thoughtful, thing to do. Please let me know if it happens.’
‘I will, Ella.’
‘Me, too. I don’t know about you two, but I have put it all out of my mind; it was the only way I could cope. But a service, even if it is just us three, would help to settle it all – a proper goodbye to those four brave young women.’
‘You’re right.’
‘That’s settled then.’
‘But before that, I am going to contact the Red Cross and ask to be sent somewhere else, to nurse the wounded.’
Ella nodded, but Mags was shocked. ‘You’d do it all again! Oh, Flors, we’ve done our bit. And we’re not safe yet. I feel I owe the Red Cross nothing. They abandoned us.’
‘Not abandoned, Mags. We were cut off. Matron couldn’t have known that she wouldn’t be able to contact us, once she left. Communications being cut came as a shock to us all. She did the best she could at the time; she moved on to where trained staff were needed most, and left us to nurse the last of the French soldiers. We all knew the fighting was getting further away and that no more casualties would be brought to us. I just worry where she and the others are, and if they are all right.’
‘I suppose so. Anyway, I’m for leaving the service and staying at home. I’ve had enough.’
Flora took Mags’s hand. ‘You will forget, in time; at least not forget, but find it easier to live with the memory, and get back to your old self.’
‘I can’t ever see that happening. That soldier destroyed my soul with what he did to me.’
‘You need time away from it all. I’m glad you’re going home. After a while you may feel you can cope and re-join. We may even get back together again.’
‘Oh, Flors, it’s unbearable to be parted from you both. I’ve always been such an independent madam, even as a child. I have friends of course, but never have I leaned on anyone before. And it feels as though my world is ending, now we are to part.’
Flora squeezed Mags’s hand tighter, unable to speak. Through the swirling snow, she spotted the lights of the tram approaching and felt glad of it. The act of boarding and getting their tickets would be a distraction from the ache in her heart. Saying goodbye would be like parting from beloved sisters.
At the first stop, German soldiers boarded the tram. Flora felt the other two move closer to her. ‘Act normally.’ Her urgent whisper got them moving away a little.
Her heart clanged fear around her body, as the soldiers made their way through the passengers, checking their papers. She prayed that their passes would be accepted. She held her breath. It seemed they were in a cocoon of silence, except for the heavy tread of the soldiers’ boots as they made their way down the carriage. Her silent prayers begged for help when one of the soldiers reached them. She held out her pass, hardly daring to breathe as he scrutinized it. He spoke to her in German. She replied in French, saying she didn’t understand.
To her relief, he didn’t speak French, so he wouldn’t be able to read what the pass said. After a moment he handed it back to her, and then only glanced at Mags’s and Ella’s, before moving on.
Once in Liège, Flora asked a passer-by for directions to the market. She had been told to ask for Madame Velluset, and the first stall-holder they came to, a man selling pots and pans, told them to go to the fourth stall around the corner. No questions were asked of her.
Madame Velluset’s wrinkled face gave nothing away, as Flora informed her they had been sent to her by Hendrix.
‘Be here by three a.m. tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. I have to fetch vegetables from Maastricht.’
‘Thank you.’
‘The Hotel Villier is along this street and to the left. They are expecting you. Go there now and stay there till morning. Here, give me three francs for these.’
Flora took the bunch of carrots and handed over the money. She knew she was paying the charge for the journey, but why the carrots? When she turned away with them, she understood the reason, as she saw a group of soldiers standing on the corner, watching them. Did they suspect the market women?
Acting as normally as her nerves would allow, she thanked Madame Velluset again and moved off. Mags and Ella followed her. ‘I have our instructions. When I stop talking, giggle out loud. I want us to appear as though we haven’t a care in the world.’
Both did this without questioning her. Flora pushed Mags on the shoulder in a playful gesture, as she joined in the laughter.
They made it to the hotel, where Flora felt she could finally breathe. She looked back: no one had followed them. A sigh released itself from deep within her, but the relief was only temporary. They had the worst part to come – crossing the frontier.
Their coats were no protection against the bitter wind. Flora shivered as they left the hotel the next morning. Tiredness ached through her bones, but somehow she managed to jolly the others along. An open cart stood next to the market stall, the horse waiting to start its journey, snorting its impatience. Already three others were seated in the cart. Until she boarded, Flora couldn’t tell if they were men or women, but now she saw they were all female.
She greeted them in French, but they answered in English. After saying good morning, one of them whispered, ‘We understand you are volunteers. I’m May Tyler, a nurse with the Red Cross. This is Jean and Betty, both nurses. We have been working in the hospital here. We just missed getting out, before all communication and travel were restricted. We’ve been like hermits, not daring to leave the hospital. But we’re no longer needed, and so some of the Belgium nurses arranged this escape for us.’
Flora told the nurses their story. May expressed her regret that they had been left without a helm, as she called it. They chatted on, the six of them, exchanging stories – some funny, some sad, but all just a cover for what they really wanted to talk about: the danger that lay ahead.
The cart halted, stopping their chatter. ‘I can only take three through. I daren’t risk any more.’ The old woman’s comment rendered them all silent for a moment.
Mags leaned over towards Flors. ‘What is it, Flors, what did she say?’
May answered, ‘Three of us have to get off and make our own way across the frontier.’
Flora could feel the tension. No one volunteered. The old woman telling them to hurry prompted Flora to say that she would walk through.
Ella and Mags immediately said they would, too.
The old woman instructed them that they should walk a little way, then cross over the field on the left and crawl under the barbed wire. The thought of this struck terror into Flora, but the thought of the others’ fear gave her the strength to do it, for them. Taking hold of each of their hands, she urged Mags and Ella along, trying to keep cheerful as she chatted normally. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before, and I thought us three had seen it all. Come on, let’s go – I’m freezing.’
‘Me, too, and I’m bursting for a pee. Let’s make that field before I wet my knickers.’
Flora laughed at Mags; there was a glimmer of her old spirit still in her.
‘I’m ready. We can do this. I feel sometimes that we can do anything as long as we stay together.’
With this willingness from Ella, too, Flora felt her own confidence boosted. She loved looking after them both, but it did become wearing sometimes. It comforted her to know they were coping.
The grass crunched under their feet as they trod the crisp frost. As soon as they were behind a hedge, they all three relieved themselves, giggling like school children.
‘Come on. We’re nearly there.’
Mags’s voice had all the command she’d had when they first met. It was good to hear.
‘Wait for me, I’m struggling with my corset.’
‘You wore a corset, Ella! Ha, that’s the last garment I would have put on.’
They all laughed as Ella struggled with the ties. ‘Oh, blow it! If you ladies are corset-less, then so shall I be.’ With this, she pulled the boned garment from around her and stuffed it in her bag.
‘Throw it away, Ella. Imagine the embarrassment if we are searched!’
Instead of laughter, this brought back the fear, which hadn’t been Flora’s intention. The mood changed as they moved forward, keeping close together.
When they came to the barbed-wire fence, Mags said, ‘Well, this is it, girls. On your bellies.’
The wire caught on Flora’s coat. Untangling it gave her a deep scratch on her hand, but nothing could dampen her joy as she stood up on the other side. ‘We made—’
‘Halt!’
Flora froze. Her stomach turned over. Turning to her left, she looked down the barrel of a rifle held by a sentry. Her body went into flight mode, but she denied it and instead whispered urgently, ‘Don’t run or he will shoot us.’
In French, the soldier asked for their papers. To Flora’s relief, he only glanced at them and seemed happy with the German stamp, and didn’t notice that the papers only allowed them to travel to Liège. ‘Why are you coming this way? You must go through the checkpoint.’
Thinking quickly, Flora hoped he would believe her. ‘There was a crowd – carts, bicycles and hordes of people – so we took a shortcut that we always used to take as children.’
‘Well, you are out of bounds. Go back and through the correct channels.’ The soldier motioned at them, sending them back through the fence.
Flora told the others what the soldier had said, then added, ‘We’ll have to walk as if we are going back to the road, then double-back. Once we get under the wire, we must stay down until we are sure it is clear, then run like the wind. There must be another wire fence, but I don’t know how far away it is.’
‘It’s hopeless – we’ll be shot!’
‘We have to take the chance, Ella.’
‘Flors is right, Ella. We can do this. Look how far we’ve come. It’s our last hurdle, then we’ll be safe.’
Flora felt she would never be safe again. Each time they approached the wire, they saw more and more sentries. ‘Look, we’re not far from the border now. Shall we take our chances? I have money, I’ll try a bribe.’
‘I don’t see that we have any choice.’
‘We don’t, Ella. Good luck, girls.’
‘That’s the spirit, Mags. Now, leave the talking to me. Just do as I do. But, even if challenged, don’t speak. We mustn’t let them know we are English.’
They stood behind a small crowd. The movement forward had come to a halt. The guard whose queue they were in was questioning a young man’s papers. Flora knew this could be their chance.
‘Follow me. Have your pass bent over, so that just the German stamp shows, as that is all the sentry was interested in. Look confident. Come on.’
Pushing past the crowd, she went straight up to the guard. Waving the German stamp at him, she put an aggravated tone into her voice and told him they were in a hurry. As he moved in front of them, she pressed all the money she had into his hand and smiled. He hesitated, then looked at each stamp and waved them through.
‘Walk normally, girls. Keep your heads up, and look as if this is what we do every day.’
They’d barely walked a hundred yards when a sentry motioned to them that they should halt. Flora thought this was the end. She had no further tricks to pull. No money to bribe with, no papers that gave them permission to cross. Tears of defeat stung her eyes.
‘Ha! I gave you a scare there. I’m Dutch, not German – just thought I would have a little fun with you.’
‘Fun! You . . .’ Flora couldn’t continue as the tears spilled over. Her temper had released the words in English.
He replied, speaking in broken English, ‘I’m sorry. Really sorry. You’re English? Are you nurses?’
‘Yes. And don’t mind Flors – she cries for joy, more than she does in sorrow.’ With this, Mags jumped forward and hugged the very surprised soldier. ‘So good to see you. Are we really free?’
Recovering, the huge Dutchman hugged Mags back. ‘You are. And there is an English agent in that office over there. He will help you get home to Britain from here.’
Flora’s tears flowed freely once more, as she, Mags and Ella hugged one another. They’d made it!
Inside the office, a man sat bent over a desk. Flora was reminded of her brother Harold, as this man’s hair was in the exact same style, his double-crown causing a few strands not to know which way to lie, so they hovered in the centre, sticking up like two spikes. The colour was the same as Harold’s and her father’s, too: very dark, almost black. He wore a dark suit, with a whiter-than-white shirt collar sticking out above the jacket. For some reason, Flora really wanted to see his face.
‘Papers, please. Your real ones, not your fake ones.’
‘We don’t have any, sir, only our Red Cross armbands sewn into the hems of our skirts.’
At this he looked up. Flora jumped back a step.
For a moment he stared at her. Then he smiled. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ This softer tone, after the commanding one he’d used, put Flora into a flutter. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
‘We’re volunteers.’
As Mags relayed their story, Flora took in the whole of the man: over six foot, slim, and yet with a power as if, under his clothes, he hid muscles on muscles . . . What’s the matter with me? Making a huge effort, she pulled herself together and asked, ‘W – what happens next?’
‘I’m Cyrus Harpinham. I’m an officer in the British army. I’m stationed here on military business, but I am called upon to help out any British refugees who come through the frontier. I’ll first need to see your armbands. What happened to your papers?’
‘We had to destroy them before we left, for fear of being searched. There were rumours that threats of execution of foreign nationals were being made. Any member of an enemy country was at risk. We pretended to be Belgian.’ Flora bent down and tore her armband from the hem of her skirt and handed it to him. ‘Our Belgian friends helped us, or we never would have survived or got this far.’
‘Very well.’ His eyes bore into hers. It was strange, but somehow Flora felt that a bond joined them as they looked at one another. Her heart missed a beat. He’s beautiful . . . Oh, for goodness’ sake, what am I thinking? Have I gone mad!
As Cyrus gave them instructions on how they would get a boat to England, Flora turned from him and followed Mags and Ella outside, but he called her back. He looked again into her eyes. ‘I – I hope you don’t think me rude, but I’ll be back in England myself in a couple of weeks. May I look you up? I – I mean, just to check you all got home safely . . . I—’
‘I’d like that.’ With shaking hands, she wrote her address on the pad on his desk. ‘It’s my aunt’s address – I live with her.’ He didn’t remark on this, but as he reached out to slide the pad towards him, his hand brushed hers. Something in her wanted to take hold of it and never let go of it. What is happening to me?
Mags broke the spell. ‘Flors, hurry up.’
Smiling at Cyrus, Flora went to leave. He caught hold of her arm. ‘You’re very beautiful.’
Her breath caught in her lungs. She wanted to tell him the same.
‘I – I’m sorry. I—’
Again, that look.
‘Flors, are you stopping here all day?’
Almost running out of the office, Flora wanted to hop, skip and jump. ‘I’ve just met the man of my dreams.’
‘What? Have you gone crazy, Flors? You’ve only just set eyes on him. He’s handsome, I grant you, but you don’t know him.’
‘I soon will, Mags. He’s coming home in two weeks and is going to visit me!’
The two girls stood staring at her.
‘You really mean it, don’t you, Flors?’
‘I do. I really, really do.’
With that, she clasped their hands and they all twirled around, laughing and crying at the same time. Mixed emotions – relief, joy and, above all, the wonderful sense of freedom assailed them as they came into a group hug. And for Flora, there was the added feeling that her real life was soon to begin!