While My Heart Beats

by Erin McKenzie

“Mother, if you think I am any different now than I’ve ever been, you haven’t been paying attention.” Ellie walked to the door. “I’m going out. Good-bye.”

  She grabbed her coat and called for the car. She’d learned to drive during her long convalescence, since walking to the village had become too taxing. Guilt prickled in her belly over how she had spoken to her mother, but the rush of exhilaration, of empowerment, squelched any feelings of unease.

  Ellie needed to connect with Johanna, to share this moment. She knew Johanna believed she would fall prey to her mother’s expectations and had ended their budding romance out of fear. Ellie blamed herself—she never should have written so carelessly about her mother’s matchmaking attempts. Johanna, who had already lost so much, had taken a huge risk with her heart, and Ellie had ruined everything.

  Stifling a sob, she climbed into the car and waited for Bailey to crank the engine. Before he did, he came around to peer in the driver’s side window.

  “Excuse me, miss, but are you feeling poorly?” The look on his kind old face touched her, and she reached out to pat his arm.

  “Oh, Bailey, I’m fine, just feeling a bit melancholy.”

  “It’s your time in France that haunts you, I think,” he said. “Forgive my boldness, but I’ve been keeping my eye on you since you’ve been back. It’s plain to see you had a rough go.”

  “It’s the memories—some days are harder than others.” It’s the closest she had come to speaking of the war in months.

  “Oh yes, miss, I reckon I know a thing or two about that,” Bailey said, nodding. “Even at my age, I can still remember what it was like to fight a war. I lost many a good mate in South Africa, but it was the camps that took a piece of my soul.”

  Ellie looked at him in surprise. He’d never spoken much about anything personal, but she could see in his eyes that he needed to share. She felt honored that he had chosen her. “The camps?” she said.

  “They made us destroy everything—homes, crops, livestock—and then use their soldiers’ families against them. The scorched-earth policy, they called it. We drove Boer women and children into camps. Thousands of innocents died in those camps—it’s the starving children more than anything else that I can’t forget.”

  “I’m sorry, Bailey. I guess every war has its horrors,” Ellie said, shuddering. “There are so many burdens to carry now.”

  “I’m an old man, Miss Ellie. Getting too tired to shoulder them anymore.” Bailey touched his cap. “I thank you, young lady—I’ve not spoken of such things to anyone in many years, not even my own wife. You’re a fine listener and you’ve eased my mind.”

  Ellie nodded, too choked up to speak. Bailey went round to the front of the car and cranked the engine. As she pulled away, she waved to the dear man and focused on the road ahead. She had no destination in mind, but she needed to drive until the ache in her heart subsided.

  * * *

  Johanna lurched upright at the loud bang and cried out as pain lanced through her shoulder. Her heart pounded as she searched for the source of the sound. Across the room, a volunteer was picking up metal trays from the tile floor.

  “Sorry, Sister,” the VAD said, her face scarlet.

  Joanna groaned and lay back on her pillow. The girl was sweet but clumsy as a drunken sailor.

  “What time is it?” Her voice was still thick and muffled, as if she had a mouthful of cotton.

  “Almost noontime, Sister. They’ll be bringing round the meal soon. Can I get you anything until then?”

  “Aye, some tea would be nice.” Johanna had been transferred here from the hospital in Calais two weeks ago, and she was beyond grateful to be on home soil. Still, the war had followed her, haunting her sleep and filling her waking hours with pain.

  There’d been an air raid, they said, on the rail line at Brandhoek. A wayward bomb had landed on one end of the tent Johanna had been in, the blast throwing her across the ward, injuring her and killing a nurse along with several of the men they’d worked so hard to save. She had a dislocated shoulder, shrapnel wounds in her thigh and cheek, and a severe concussion. She was lucky to be alive, they’d said. Johanna wasn’t so sure.

  A heavy dark mood had overtaken her since she’d been in hospital. Working had made her feel alive, had kept her grief at bay. Without it, she didn’t know who she was. She lifted her hand to touch the bandage on her face. They hadn’t told her how bad the wound was, but she would surely have a nasty scar. After the war, would anyone want to hire a disfigured woman? Would she be left to beg on the streets of Edinburgh?

  “I need to get out of here,” Johanna said, feeling like she was crawling out of her own skin.

  “But Sister,” the volunteer said, “the doctor said you mustn’t be up and about just yet.”

  “I don’t much care what the doctor said. I’ll lose my bloody mind just lying here, so you can help me or deal with the consequences.”

  The girl gaped at her for a moment, then rushed out of the room. She returned moments later with a wheelchair.

  “That’s a good lass. Now, help me get into it.” After some painful maneuvering, she was upright and sitting in the chair. “Take me where there’s a view of something other than white walls.”

  “One moment, Sister.” The volunteer stepped away and spoke to the charge nurse, who looked at Johanna and nodded.

  The volunteer, Molly, wheeled Johanna along a corridor and onto a lift, which took them down to the ground floor. The building was formerly a primary school, and a few of its offices and classrooms had been converted into sitting rooms. One small section had been designated for the handful of female patients, who were to be kept separate from the men. As Molly wheeled her swiftly past a room full of convalescents, they heard a loud voice.

  “Ho, there, is that a sister?”

  Molly gasped and sped up, but Johanna stopped her. “It’s all right, Molly. Let me talk to the men.”

  “But I’m not supposed to…”

  “Stay with me, then, if you think I need a chaperone. I want to talk to the men.”

  Molly threw up her hands but complied, wheeling Johanna into the room.

  “Ah, Sister, Fritz got you, too?” Nine eager faces turned to her, and she smiled as best she could.

  “Aye, but he missed a few parts.”

  The men roared with laughter, and Johanna felt her spirits rise. She understood these men, and they her. Only someone who’d been over there could fully comprehend what they’d experienced together.

  “Where were you, Sister?”

  “Boulogne at first, at a general hospital. But this happened at CCS Brandhoek, near Passchendaele,” she said, indicating her bandages.

  “I was there. My leg’s probably stuck in the mud somewhere, but I got me a shiny new one,” a young man said, tapping his prosthetic with a cane.

  The men took turns sharing stories, and Johanna told her own. As the time passed, her heavy mantle of despair grew lighter. These wounded soldiers treated her like one of their own and focused on her humanity, not her broken bits. Maybe there would be a place for her in this world after all.

  * * *

  Ellie took breakfast in her room the next day. Her mother was still in a snit, and Ellie hadn’t the patience for it. Yesterday’s show of independence might have upset Mother, but Ellie felt renewed with an energy, a purpose, that she hadn’t had in months.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?” Ellie called, in case it was her mother coming to fuss at her again.

  “It’s Jones, miss.”

  “Oh, come in.” Ellie smiled when the young maid entered. “How are you today?”

  Jones, as usual, looked surprised to be asked. “I’m just fine, miss, thank you. Mail’s come for you.” She produced a letter and handed it to Ellie.

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, her heart skipping when she saw the return address.

  “Will you be needing anything else, miss?”

  “If you like, you can take the breakfast tray.
I’ve finished.”

  “Very good, miss.” Jones took the tray and left the room.

  Ellie had written to Matron Campbell every month, hoping for word on Johanna. Now she opened the envelope, praying that this was the news she’d been waiting for.

  Dear Miss Winthrop,

  I hope this letter finds you in good health. I’ve received a report on Sister Lennox, which is both distressing and hopeful. There was an attack on her location some weeks ago, and she was wounded. I hesitated to tell you until I knew of her condition. I can now report that she is back in Scotland, recovering at a hospital in Edinburgh. I don’t know the name of the facility, but I trust your investigative skills will uncover the information you seek.

  I wish you the best of luck, and would welcome any bit of good news if you choose to share it. God willing, all of us here will be on our way home soon. Until then, take care of yourself.

  Yours truly,

  Matron Fiona Campbell

  “Oh my God, she’s only a few hours from here. I’ve got to go to her.”

  Ellie jumped up, then sat again as a sobering thought came. She’d have to have a good explanation to get around her parents and Dr. Phipps. What she needed was a plan.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “I think I’ll be taking a little trip for a few days,” Ellie said at dinner the next evening.

  “Oh? What for?” her father said.

  “A dear friend of mine is back from the war. She’s had a terrible time of it, and I’d like to look in on her.”

  “Well, surely a visit won’t require a few days,” her mother put in.

  “She’s in Edinburgh, Mother.” Ellie tried to remain calm, but her stomach was in knots.

  “Why on earth would you want to travel to Scotland at this time of year? It’ll be cold and damp, and in your condition—”

  “My condition is much improved. I’m perfectly capable of sitting while the train does all the hard work.”

  “Now, Ellie, your mother is only concerned about your health,” her father said, but the twinkle in his eye belied his chastising tone. “Who is this friend?”

  “She’s a nurse, Papa. We were in the same hospital in Boulogne, and she helped train me,” Ellie replied.

  “Does this nurse have a name? I know some families in Edinburgh.”

  Bloody hell. “It’s Johanna, Johanna Lennox.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell. What does her father do?”

  “Her parents have both passed on. That’s why I’d like to go. She may be in need of some assistance,” Ellie said, daring now to hope.

  “I suppose it would be all right,” her father said.

  “But Charles, is it wise for young ladies to travel alone? It seems so dangerous these days,” Mother said.

  “Ellie’s been in far more dangerous places than Edinburgh, my dear, and she’s not a child anymore.” Mother pressed her lips together but said nothing further—she wouldn’t contradict her husband.

  “Thank you, Papa. Shall I go into London with you to purchase the ticket?” Ellie said, tamping down her excitement.

  “If you can be ready. I’ll be leaving shortly,” he replied.

  “Yes, just give me ten minutes.”

  Ellie rushed off to her room, shut the door, and grabbed her pillow, into which she proceeded to scream with joy.

  “Oh, Johanna, my darling, I’ll be with you soon.”

  * * *

  As the train rumbled north, Ellie went over the plan in her head. She would need to find a room upon arriving, then begin the search for hospitals. Perhaps the local Red Cross would be a good place to start. Then once she found Johanna…Ellie’s stomach lurched as a new thought crept in. Johanna had told her to move on, but what if Johanna herself had found someone new?

  She shook her head, unwilling to despair over something that might never come to pass. She would find Johanna, convince her of her devotion, and hope for the best. Ellie had no information about the extent of Johanna’s injuries—was she infirm, shell-shocked, an amputee? The unknown consumed her thoughts for the rest of the journey, and before she knew it, she had arrived at Princes Street Station.

  Late autumn in Edinburgh was as cold and damp as her mother had predicted. Ellie turned up her coat collar against the icy wind and made her way to The Caledonian Hotel, but thought better of it. She needed to be careful of her money, for she did not want to ask her father for more. She walked on and found a much more affordable hotel, where she booked a room. A bit winded from her walk in the cold, Ellie took a rest before heading back down to the concierge.

  “Excuse me, sir. I’ve come to Edinburgh to find a woman friend who is in hospital. I don’t know which one—can you tell me where I might start looking?”

  “Aye, miss. If your friend is a woman, you’d best start at Bruntsfield, though it will be a fair walk. Shall I call for a taxicab?” he said.

  “Yes, please.”

  Ellie was relieved not to have to walk about the city. A motor taxi arrived and she was on her way, anxious to begin her search for Johanna. Trying to tamp down her emotions, she focused on the passing city. Edinburgh Castle rose up above the streets, majestic and untouched, unlike so many other ancient landmarks in war-torn Europe. People bustled about, tending to their daily business, as if the world wasn’t being blown to smithereens just a day’s travel away.

  “Miss, here is Bruntsfield,” the driver said.

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, paying him. She stepped out in front of a large four-story stone building with tall dormers along the top floor. Ellie stepped through the iron gate and entered the hospital, her heart racing.

  Inside, there was the steady hum of a busy hospital—low voices in conversation, the clatter of cart wheels on the tile floor, a baby crying. Ellie walked along a wide corridor until she found the main nurses’ station. A gray-haired nurse standing behind the long counter looked up and smiled.

  “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

  “Good afternoon. I’m trying to locate a friend who was wounded in France and is in hospital somewhere in Edinburgh. I was told to inquire here,” Ellie said.

  The nurse frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, but this is the women’s and children’s hospital. We have no war wounded here.”

  “But my friend is a woman, a nurse. She was wounded in the line of duty. Where else would she be?”

  “Wounded? My goodness. Well, she won’t be at City Hospital—they take the infectious disease patients over there. I’ve heard tell of several auxiliary hospitals and convalescent homes springing up all over Britain, to handle the wounded soldiers coming home, but I don’t reckon they take female patients. Was your friend with the Scottish Women’s Hospitals overseas?”

  “No, the Red Cross,” Ellie said, swallowing the panic that had begun to rise. What if I can’t find her?

  “They ought to have a record of her at headquarters, then. Their building is near the city center, just past St. Giles’ Cathedral. You know the place?”

  Ellie shook her head, feeling very much the outsider. “I’m afraid I don’t, though I thank you for the information. Could you ring for a taxi, if it isn’t too much trouble?”

  “Aye, ma’am, and good luck finding your friend, the poor lass.”

  By the time the taxi came and took Ellie across town, the Red Cross headquarters had closed for the day. She wanted to scream in frustration, but a fat lot of good that would do. With a plan to resume her search first thing in the morning, Ellie went back to her hotel room, where the long night of waiting loomed before her. The thought that, for all she knew, Johanna could be as close as the next street over drove her to distraction. Oh, for God’s sake, you haven’t seen her in months. What’s one more night? She scolded herself to be patient, but the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, and sleep wouldn’t come.

  * * *

  As Johanna recovered, she worried more and more about what the future would bring. She had no home—after her mother’s death, s
he had sold their tiny flat and had a little money set aside, but not much. She was unsure of her employment status as well, especially now. When the war ended, thousands of nurses would be returning home, and many would still work in the field. Would she be able to find a job? The uncertainty stole her sleep and her appetite, dominating her thoughts more than anything except…

  Ellie. That blue-eyed angel had turned her world upside down, and she would never be the same. Their relationship had awakened Johanna to her true nature, something she had never known or considered before. The love of a woman was what she needed, but Ellie was who she wanted. Johanna’s heart ached with missing her, and now that she had time to think, she wondered if she’d been too hasty in pushing Ellie away. Thanks to her stubborn foolishness, Ellie was probably married now, and they’d never meet again. That pain hurt deeper than any of her wounds.

  “Sister Lennox?”

  Johanna, caught daydreaming, turned in her chair with a start. “Aye?”

  The volunteer smiled. “You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor? Who…?” She glanced past the woman and time stopped. In the doorway, wearing a blue cashmere coat and an uncertain smile, was Ellie.

  “Oh my God.” Johanna felt like she used to when her father’s boat would crest a large swell—exhilarated and terrified at the same time. She rose from the chair, never taking her eyes off the vision before her.

  “Hello, Johanna,” Ellie said, stepping closer. “It’s so very good to see you.”

  They stared at each other for several beats in awkward silence until the volunteer took the hint and left. Ellie closed the gap in two quick strides and took Johanna’s hands in hers, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Johanna said, her own tears flowing. “How did you know?”

  “Matron Campbell. She sent word as soon as she learned what had happened to you.” Ellie brushed her thumb near the bandage on Johanna’s cheek. “Oh, Johanna, are you all right?”

  “I’ll heal. And how are you?”