Together for Christmas (32 page)

Flora decided she would do just that. How wonderful it would be if Will could be close to Hilda. Flora hoped the doctor would wake so she could tell him about Sally’s advice. But he was
still fast asleep.

Flora listened to Sally as she talked about the suffrage movement. Though Flora admired these women, she was not a militant. She wouldn’t chain herself to a railing or go on hunger strike
in prison. Although, now Sally had given her this advice, she knew she had to speak up for Will.

‘Just look at what women are doing for the country,’ Sally shouted over her shoulder. ‘We perform most jobs that men do. I worked with the Red Cross at the field hospitals in
France for six months. Nothing prepares you for what you see there. Man or woman, you just have to get on with it.’

Flora’s tummy jolted. Here she was, making plans for the future, when she hadn’t even seen Will yet. How was she going to feel when she saw him? Whatever injuries he had, she
mustn’t let her feelings show.

When the ambulance stopped to take on fuel, Dr Tapper woke up. ‘Are we there?’ he asked, sitting up on the uncomfortable wooden seat.

‘No, but Sally has given me an idea.’ Flora couldn’t wait to tell him. ‘It would be wonderful if Will was sent to Adelphi Hall.’

Dr Tapper raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘The authorities will have their own ideas on that.’

‘Yes, but so have I.’

A gentle smile touched his lips. He patted her hand. ‘There’s no doubt about it: when you make up your mind on something, Flora, you have a certain look about you.’

She blushed, but she was also excited. Somehow she would make Nurse Parkin see the sense in her idea.

By the time they set off again the weather was on the turn. From a bright, clear day, heavy clouds now filled the sky. Flora watched Sally with admiration as she battled the ambulance through
the pouring rain. All the while, another part of Flora’s mind was working. Sally had asked her if she knew of a contact at Adelphi Hall. She didn’t, but perhaps Hilda did.

‘Dratted weather,’ Sally mumbled as she peered at the drenched windscreen and hard-working single wiper. Her only protection against the storm was a large tin plate over her head and
a flimsy canvas flap.

Meeting this independent and courageous young woman had been a blessing. Flora knew that if she wanted Will to go to Adelphi Hall then it would be up to her to set the plan in motion.

After almost a day’s travel they finally arrived at the infirmary. The rain had stopped at last and the air was still damp under overcast skies.

‘Well, good luck,’ Sally said as they climbed from the ambulance. ‘Don’t forget what I told you, Flora.’

‘I won’t.’ Flora watched her go. She had felt inspired in Sally’s company. But when she turned to discover a long line of wooden huts silhouetted in the hospital’s
grounds, her heart sank. There were dozens of patients being wheeled in Bath chairs and just as many on crutches. The smell in the air was sickly. ‘These huts look like garden sheds,’
Flora said dejectedly. ‘Do you think Will is in one of them?’

‘It’s the work that’s carried on inside them that’s important,’ the doctor reminded her as they went up the steps to the main infirmary. ‘I’m sure Will
has had the very best of care.’

The high-ceilinged hospital was also full of milling people. Flora took the doctor’s arm. ‘Nurse Parkin said she would meet us here, if we ask for her at reception.’

They pushed their way through to a long queue. Two women in business-like suits worked furiously amongst the many papers and files that spilled across a piece of flat wood that looked
suspiciously like an old door resting on plinths.

‘We’d like to see Nurse Sara Parkin,’ Flora said when it came to their turn.

‘Is she expecting you?’

Flora nodded. ‘Yes, we’ve travelled from London to visit one of her patients.’

‘Do you know the number of his unit?’

‘Do you mean one of those huts outside?’

The receptionist, who looked to Flora to be in her fifties and had a pinched, tired face, nodded. ‘The units are very spacious and clean. Now, you’ve come a long way and must be in
need of refreshment. If you go to the canteen, three huts down, I’ll send for Nurse Parkin and tell her you’re there.’

‘Thank you.’

Flora tried to prepare herself as they made their way outside. In just a short while, she would be with Will again.

Flora and the doctor sat at the canteen table. The busy, stale-smelling room was crowded with people who had come from far and wide. Everyone had the same anxious look on their
faces. The hut’s windows were streaming with condensation. The rows of wooden benches and tables were stacked with dirty enamel dishes. Flora had managed to eat a little broth, and the
doctor, a slice of apple pie.

‘Miss Shine?’

Flora looked up. A slender young woman, about Flora’s height and wearing a dark-blue uniform, stood at the table. Her short, neat brown hair was tucked under a white cap.

‘Are you Nurse Sara Parkin?’

‘I am.’

‘This is Dr Tapper.’ They all shook hands.

‘Shall we sit together for a moment?’ Nurse Parkin said in quiet voice. ‘You must be eager to see Will, but I would like to speak to you first.’ She folded her slim hands
together and leaned them on the table. ‘May I call you Flora?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Will has spoken at length of his life at the orphanage. And how your letters have been a lifeline for him during the fighting. If it wasn’t for you, he might never have had the will
to live.’

‘Does he know we’re visiting today?’

Nurse Parkin nodded. ‘Yes. But I would ask you to keep in mind that Will is still very ill.’

‘Will he get better?’ Flora couldn’t wait any longer to know.

‘A shell burst close to him and he was left unconscious. To compound his injuries, it was some time before the stretcher-bearers found him. There is a lack of sterile dressings at the
Front and infections are always likely. Even the smallest cut can become a threat. He was in immediate danger from blood loss and severe shock.’ Nurse Parkin hesitated. ‘I’m
afraid the surgeons had no choice other than to amputate his arm.’

Flora tried to breathe. Her head was spinning. She knew she was about to faint. The last thing she remembered was Dr Tapper holding her.

‘Sip the water slowly.’

Flora looked up into Nurse Parkin’s concerned face. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It happens to the best of us,’ said the young nurse, ‘especially when it’s close to home. We can stand up to a lot but when it’s personal . . .’ She put down
the mug. ‘I’m very sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. Perhaps I should have said more in my letter, but I was concerned you might not come.’

‘I would never let Will down,’ Flora insisted. The waves of dizziness were leaving her.

‘You may be surprised to hear that many men are abandoned because of their injuries. Sadly, their relatives or friends cannot face long months or even years of rehabilitation. Some simply
haven’t the accommodation or courage to take in a disabled or a disfigured man.’

Flora made herself swallow. ‘Is Will disfigured?’

‘His head was injured in the explosion and his hair is just beginning to grow back. It will be some while before he regains his confidence.’

‘How much is left of his limb?’ the doctor asked.

‘The top of his upper arm. In time, if he heals, he could be fitted with an artificial appliance.’

They all sat silently, until Flora finally spoke: ‘I would like Will to be sent to Adelphi Hall in Surrey. The house belongs to Lord William Calvey and has recently been converted to a
hospital.’ She went on to explain about Hilda and how being close to her might help Will’s recovery.

Nurse Parkin raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t have any say in the placements, I’m afraid.’

‘Who does?’ Remembering Sally’s advice, Flora wasn’t going to give up.

‘The matron and others.’

‘Will you ask her?’

Nurse Parkin took in a slow breath. ‘Well, it does make sense. But, as I say, it’s not up to me.’

‘Please try.’

The young woman smiled. ‘You can be very persuasive, Flora.’

‘I would do anything for Will.’

‘Yes, I can see that. Now, are you ready to see your friend?’

Dr Tapper rose and put his hand under Flora’s arm. ‘We’re quite ready.’

Flora knew that no matter what had happened to Will, it was now that he needed her, more than ever.

Hilda stopped what she was doing and put down the basket that was full of soiled, heavy vegetables. Each day, she had to dig up a variety for Mrs Harris, who was now twice as
busy as ever preparing meals for the convalescing soldiers and nursing staff.

She could hear voices coming from the stables on the other side of the thick yew hedge. Stepping towards the half gate, she peered carefully over it. Khaki uniforms abounded, as did the
browny-pink uniforms, white shoes and head caps of the nurses who were helping the wounded men across the lawns and into the house. They looked as though they had occupied Adelphi Hall for fifty
years, rather than five months.

Hilda cast her gaze to Lady Bertha. She was still a striking figure with her black hair drawn severely back from her face, wearing a military-style dark-grey tunic top and serge skirt. She was
talking to a tall officer, waving her arms about as if to direct the men. Hilda had overheard a conversation between Mrs Burns and Mrs Harris about the wounded soldiers coming to the hall.

‘Well, her ladyship couldn’t stop ’em from coming,’ Mrs Harris had argued, ‘so she joined ’em instead. Whoever would have guessed she’d let the army
have her precious dining room. Mr Leighton nearly quit his job when she instructed him to put beds in there. But in the end he had to do as she wanted.’

‘The circumstances are unique,’ Mrs Burns had replied haughtily. ‘We must all do our bit. And her ladyship is doing hers.’

Hilda remembered the conversation vividly. Just after that she had been detailed by Mrs Burns to help Peter the gardener and the young boys from the village. ‘There are many mouths to feed
now,’ Mrs Burns had barked at her. ‘And it’s about time you started to earn your keep again.’

Hilda had wanted to wipe the smile off the housekeeper’s face. Nothing could have given Mrs Burns more pleasure than to see Hilda digging in the allotments, her nails always black with
filthy earth and her face blotchy and red from outdoor duties. But Hilda had been forced to accept her fate. She clung to the hope that one day Lord Guy would rescue her.

Hilda listened carefully as she hid behind the yew hedge. At least she was free to roam the gardens now. She wasn’t imprisoned in the house. How Gracie could put up with making all those
wounded men’s beds, full of lumpy mattresses and soiled sheets. Hilda felt sick at the thought. Trolleys and water jugs filled every hallway. The smell of sickness and disinfectant was
everywhere.

‘Hey, you!’

Hilda wheeled round. She lost her balance and fell against the hedge.

A firm hand caught her wrist. ‘Who are you spying on, boy?’

Her heart pumped frantically as she found herself in the presence of Lord Guy. She couldn’t believe it was him. Was she dreaming?

‘N . . . no one, my lord,’ she mumbled. ‘I j . . . just heard voices.’ She could hardly speak for the excitement and fear trapped in her chest.

‘Hilda, is that you?’

‘Y . . . yes, my lord.’

‘What the devil are you dressed up like that for?’ He released her wrist and stood back to cast his eyes over her. Hilda trembled. Here he was, the man of her dreams. Looking at her
with those hooded black eyes, their expression causing a thrust of desire inside her that had her gawping at him wordlessly.

‘I . . . I’m helping the gardener, my lord.’

‘Mrs Burns has no use for you in the kitchen?’

Hilda blushed fiercely and bowed her head. She wanted to tell him how badly she had been treated since the accident. How Mrs Burns had more or less held her captive, away from the other staff.
How she’d been made to work alone, or with Gracie, a lowly scullery maid, who had nearly driven her mad, telling her what to do and how to do it. And how her heart had nearly broken in two as
she had watched him escort Lady Gabriella last year. Driving out in the carriage or in the big new motor car, or riding together across the fields.

‘Well, in an odd way, the boy’s garb is quite appealing,’ he drawled, appraising her again.

Hilda looked up, her eyes suddenly bright. ‘Thank you.’

‘But too cumbersome for a warm day like this.’ He stood, hands on hips, his hair shorter than when she had last seen it at Christmas, on the day of the last family dinner in the
dining room. She had not been asked to serve the twelve-course meal with the other staff. Mrs Burns still kept her in check, in the kitchen or scullery. But she had caught sight of the family as
she stoked the fire, before being shouted at by Mr Leighton and made to run full pelt back to the kitchen. Now she could only stare at her one true love. He was so unbearably handsome in his casual
dark trousers and jacket, with a blue silk cravat at his neck. His rakish black hair shone, and his inky eyes stared at her with almost an open invitation.

Hilda drew in her breath. It had been so long since he’d touched her. Over a year since they had played that fateful game of chase. If only she had not hurt herself! If only she had played
their game as he had told her to, and run faster, longer . . .

‘I see that you are now fully recovered.’ His eyes lowered to her arm, then her full breasts that were hidden under the coarse grey blouse, and down to her legs encased in rough
trousers and working boots. Hilda felt elated. He had been thinking of her, there was no doubt of that!

‘Yes, my lord.’ A shiver of delight went through her. He was here at last to rescue her. It had taken over twelve months for him to return to her. And now he had found her. But, oh,
why was she dressed in such an ugly fashion? Humiliation filled her cheeks, making them rosy. Her full lips trembled as he came closer.

‘So my little kitten has become a fully grown cat. A tiger perhaps, a lioness?’