‘You know they have to do it. He might still have debris in there.’
‘Yes, I understand.’ She noticed Lavinia’s hair was messy. ‘So you went on your motorbike – did you really get to Ypres and back in one day?’ she asked with admiration.
‘I set out at first light.’
‘You must be exhausted.’
‘How’s your leg now?’
‘Not very comfortable.’ She was impatient to be mobile again. ‘Listen, Lavinia, I need your advice on something.’ For the first time she revealed exactly what had happened that night in Ypres.
‘So Wilfrid Fairlawn tried to seduce you? It’s all his fault you’re injured!’ Her eyes widened.
‘I don’t know what to do, whether I should report him or not. Remember what they told us at the beginning of the war, about Hun soldiers raping Belgian women? I can’t bear to think of an officer in our army trying to do the same and getting away with it.’
‘You’re right – you should report him. It won’t be easy, though, if you haven’t got a witness to what happened.’ She drew up a chair and sat down.
‘Some kind of army vehicle passed us, but it didn’t slow down or stop. I don’t imagine the driver saw anything.’ She sighed. ‘Wilfrid’s father’s very influential and might pull rank if he’s in trouble.’
‘He might.’ Lavinia took off her cloak, for the room was still warm.
‘You warned me once that Wilfrid had a bad reputation.’
‘He’s known, unofficially at least, for being a pest to nurses,’ her friend said, a serious expression in her dark eyes. ‘I haven’t heard of anyone who’s reported him – they seem to find the prospect embarrassing, as though they’ll somehow get the blame for inviting his attentions.’ She sighed. ‘All too often the authorities are reluctant to challenge a man’s behaviour, especially if he’s someone prominent. I’m afraid it’s just another area in which women need the right to be heard and respected. The thing is, if Wilfrid thinks he can go unpunished he’ll keep on preying on women.’
‘I believe I should make a stand,’ Amy resolved.
‘You’re doing the right thing. I’ll bring you pen and paper. You can write down what happened as a formal complaint and I’ll send it to Headquarters.’
Lavinia was soon back and Amy propped herself up in bed, writing on a pad of notepaper. She concentrated on recalling the details of her encounter that night. Committing to paper what had happened in the dim Ypres street was an ordeal. She struggled to keep her tears from falling on the paper as she wrote.
‘I was already desperate that day, with finding Edmond so badly injured,’ she told her friend. ‘Having to fight off Wilfrid was ghastly, and when I fell down I was afraid the baby might be hurt.’
Lavinia put an arm round her. Sometimes she seemed a driven, purposeful woman full of political zeal, but she cared for her friends. ‘Poor Amy! You’ve had such a lot to bear. It’s plucky of you to confront Captain Fairlawn with what he’s done.’
When at last she left with the letter, Amy felt relieved.
* * *
A few days later, James wrote to say that Edmond had had his second operation. He was in severe pain again but being brave. She was grateful that her cousin looked in on him regularly. The following day, she got a letter from Edmond himself, insisting that he was not nearly as ill as he had been after he was first injured: his breathing was not so badly impaired. She was still worried and frustrated that she could not visit him herself.
Soon James wrote again. I can tell Edmond is improving, he told her. He’s in pain but determined not to complain.
A further letter from Edmond boasting of his recovery cheered her.
Then there was a letter from Florence, concerned about Edmond. I keep thinking of the trials you are going through, she wrote. Please God he makes a good recovery. I know your love will support him.
Amy persuaded Sister Reed she was well enough to visit her old ward. Emily accompanied her as she limped along with the aid of crutches. She settled in a chair next to a convalescent patient with an injured arm. She helped him eat his meal and wrote a letter to his family for him. She chatted to him and to the patient on the other side. When they asked about her ankle injury she gave a vague account of falling over in the Ypres street.
That afternoon she was called to Matron’s office and set off there on her crutches. She found she had a visitor: it was Peter.
Her heart churned. ‘Edmond?’ she cried.
‘He’s progressing,’ he told her quickly. ‘It’s very slow but on the whole they’re pleased. They’re talking of moving him into a normal ward.’
This was an encouraging sign. Had he come here to tell her this, she wondered.
‘I need to speak to you about another matter,’ he told her. ‘There’s a spare office we can use. It’s to do with an allegation you’ve made about an officer.’
‘Oh.’ She allowed Peter to help her to the nearby poky office. He was smart as ever, his uniform neat and shoes shiny. Another officer, a little portly, was waiting outside and followed them in. She sat down at a desk facing Peter and the other officer, who he introduced as Captain Lambert.
‘Good afternoon, Nurse Derwent,’ the newcomer said. He had sandy hair.
‘Strictly it’s my job to investigate your allegation,’ Peter told her, ‘but the fact that you’re my sister-in-law complicates matters. The accused might say the case won’t be handled fairly, so I’m delegating it to Captain Lambert.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ she said. She had been barely aware of what Peter did at Headquarters. How strange it was that he had been handed her allegation to deal with. Would he take her word for what happened? She had met him occasionally as a child, and since he had returned from India she had only spent limited time with him when they were both on leave. He had shown his respect for her medical skill that time she had tended his arm after his accident. She had grown to like him, for he was a decent man, almost as light-hearted as Edmond had been when she first knew him, and friendly towards her.
‘This is a serious matter, Amy,’ Peter said, unsmiling now. ‘I’m shocked that one of our officers should behave like this. It must have been dreadful for you.’
‘It was very distressing.’ She shuddered, trying to describe her feelings about what happened. ‘It was demoralising. I feel I can’t begin to put it behind me until I make Captain Fairlawn face some consequence for his actions.’
‘I’m sorry to make you go over what happened again,’ Peter said. He sent for some tea. The sturdy young man beside him gave her a smile which looked sympathetic.
An orderly brought them mugs of strong tea. ‘Now, Amy, just take your time,’ Peter told her. They went through her account of what had taken place, going over important details, with Captain Lambert taking notes. It was stuffy in the office and a bluebottle was buzzing round.
‘I’m disgusted with the way Fairlawn behaved,’ Peter said eventually, frowning. ‘You’re quite right to bring the complaint but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee the Army will take action about it.’ He clenched his fists.
‘That’s my impression, too,’ Captain Lambert said.
‘You mean Captain Fairlawn’s too important to the war effort?’ she said.
‘He has got a good war record,’ Peter told her. ‘He’s been mentioned in despatches and so on. The authorities will be reluctant to take action.’
‘And his father’s a colonel.’
‘That too. The colonel’s still very influential, though he’s getting older and hasn’t been much involved in decisions lately.’ He got up and paced the small office. ‘How frustrating it’ll be if he gets away with it.’ He sat down thoughtfully.
‘There’s the question of evidence,’ Captain Lambert said, looking back over her account. ‘You haven’t got a witness to what happened. I’ll make enquiries as there was a vehicle going past, but the driver may not have noticed anything.’
‘I’m afraid that’s true.’
She gasped. ‘The very idea!’
He looked at her encouragingly, his eyes so like Edmond’s. ‘I know you’d never do such a thing, but he might try to suggest it.’
She fiddled with a strand of hair. ‘There are so many reasons why they won’t take the matter seriously,’ she complained. The scales seemed weighted against women in this kind of situation.
‘I promise I’ll do my best for you,’ Captain Lambert said. He shook hands with Amy and left to get a meal.
Peter accompanied Amy back towards sick bay. The late afternoon was still hot.
‘I’m afraid there are other factors too,’ he told her.
‘There’s more?’
He stooped towards her. ‘Amy, I was in India at the time, but you’ve told me about that business at the cricket pavilion. You were convicted of criminal damage.’
She caught her breath. ‘It seems like years ago that I did that!’ How much longer would that event from when she was young and silly go on haunting her? She stopped, just outside sick bay, leaning on her crutches.
‘Colonel Fairlawn was instrumental in bringing the case,’ he said. ‘His son will know about it and is bound to mention that you went to jail and imply that you’re of poor character.’
‘Oh, goodness.’
‘They might even suggest, since the Colonel wanted you prosecuted, that this allegation is some kind of attempt at revenge.’
‘It’s not like that at all!’ she cried.
‘No, of course not, but it’s only fair to warn you what they might say.’
She blinked back a tear, dismayed at what he had told her. ‘Do you want me to drop the allegation?’
He looked at her steadily. ‘It’s up to you. I just wanted to warn you of all the implications.’
She looked down at her plaster cast. ‘It’s thanks to him that I’m injured,’ she said. ‘If I drop the complaint he’s free to assault some other girl. No, sorry, Peter, I’m going to pursue my complaint, whatever happens.’
‘I thought you might say that. I’m behind you really.’ He bent and kissed her cheek, then his expression changed to a cheeky grin. ‘It’s as well for Wilfrid Fairlawn that duelling is illegal now, or I might have to challenge him.’ He sounded only half joking.
She smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
‘I haven’t told Edmond what happened,’ she said. ‘He thinks I just fell over. Please don’t tell him, though if my complaint is upheld I suppose he might have to know. I’d just prefer not to worry him while he’s so ill, unless absolutely necessary.’
‘I understand, Amy. I’m sure he’d approve of the stand you’re taking, though. I promise I’ll back up Robert Lambert in pursuing your case. I’m confident he’ll do his best for you.’
‘Thank you for being so supportive,’ she said. ‘How are you getting on at Headquarters?’ She had the feeling that her allegation would not make life easier for his department.
‘My work’s worthwhile,’ he said, ‘though I sometimes feel guilty for not being on active duty like Edmond.’
A nurse was returning to sick bay from an errand. ‘Nurse Derwent has been giving me information on an important matter,’ Peter told her. ‘She’s quite tired now. Could you bring her a drink of water and then make sure she gets some rest?’
‘Yes, of course, Sir.’
He waved and went off, with his usual purposeful stride.
The nurse helped her into bed, pulling back the blanket. It was stifling in the ward. Amy drank the water gratefully and sank down beneath the sheet. As she was left on her own, she was able at last to congratulate herself for taking action against Wilfrid’s monstrous behaviour. She leant back and succumbed to her drowsiness.
* * *
James visited her two days later and told her that Edmond was in a normal ward now, a small one for officers. ‘He wants to know how you are.’ He held her arm and helped her to a shady bench at the edge of the lawn in front of the hospital.
‘I’m well over the operation,’ she said. ‘I think they’ve just been waiting for a suitable convoy to send me home. I’m leaving tomorrow. You’ll go on keeping an eye on Edmond, won’t you?’
‘Count on me. He’s family.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘If he goes on making good progress they’ll send him back to Blighty, too. He won’t be fit enough to take any further part in the war.’
How thankful she was for that! ‘He’s made quite enough contribution already,’ she said.
‘Listen, I need to ask you a favour,’ James said. He brought a small notebook out of his pocket. ‘It’s my jottings,’ he explained. ‘I’m trying to record some of what I see. In years to come, people will find it hard to believe all that has happened in this war.’
‘You’re keeping a diary!’
‘We’re not supposed to. I’m keeping it secret.’ His grey eyes, so like Bertie’s, looked serious.
‘They’re afraid of information falling into enemy hands,’ Amy said, for she had heard the matter discussed. ‘It’s the men on the Front Line who are most vulnerable to capture.’
‘It’s not just that. Some of the horrors are whitewashed out of the official accounts.’ He lowered his voice as one of the sisters walked past. ‘There are places where I question the decisions of some of the officers and the High Command.’
Now she understood. ‘You’re doing the right thing,’ she told him.
‘I’m afraid of my notes being discovered,’ he told her. ‘I’d be in big trouble, of course, but also my account would be confiscated and destroyed. I’d like to begin a new book and get this one somewhere safe. It’s asking a lot, but could you take it back to Blighty for me? They’re not likely to search you.’
She knew she must do what he suggested. ‘Don’t worry – I’ll smuggle it back somehow,’ she said, smiling at the prospect of outwitting the authorities.
‘Once you get it back to Larchbury, give it to Father to look after,’ he said.
‘Yes – I’ll do that.’
He embraced her. ‘I knew I could rely on you,’ he said.
* * *
I wish I could be with you as you recover, Amy wrote to Edmond, but they are sending me home. It’s easier to accept because it’s best for the baby.
Emily came to see her before she left and brought her a tiny white bonnet and mittens she had knitted.
‘How wonderful! Our very first baby clothes,’ she said.
They embraced and promised to write. Amy would miss her cheerful companionship.
Next day they sent an ambulance, for her and some other casualties who were being sent back to Blighty.
Now that her condition was public knowledge, she was not trying so hard to pull her stomach in.
‘Ho, ho, we can see why you’re going home, nurse!’ the soldiers teased her, though her leg was an additional factor.
Beneath her uniform, Amy wore a muslin slip. She had used a handkerchief to make a pocket in it to allow her to conceal James’ notebook.
This time she travelled in one of the ambulance trains, the only patient in a compartment reserved for nurses. The journey was tedious, but now she realised how she had missed seeing her family. They reached the Channel and then boarded the ship. Hospital ships sailed at night now, as that was generally safer.
Her increasing bulk made it less likely James’ book would be discovered. She tried to look unconcerned as she passed officers and customs officials, her secret package out of sight.
I suppose this is the end of my army service, she thought. My leg should get better, but Edmond will probably still need nursing when he gets home and then there’ll be the baby.
They reached the British coast early the next morning. In London, the medical staff helped her off the train. Mr Derwent was there as she limped along the platform with her crutches. He bent and kissed her. She was growing attached to her kindly fathe
r-in-law. He took hold of her small case, which an orderly had been carrying.
‘What’s the latest you’ve heard from Edmond?’ his face seemed more lined than before. It must have been tough for him waiting at home for news.
He relaxed a little as she told him about Edmond’s move to the main ward.
‘And you’re to have a baby? That’s simply capital!’ He was smiling now, his eyes twinkling.
When she told him that the child was due in the new year it was his turn to question why she had stayed so long in France.
‘There was always the chance Edmond might get leave and I’d be able to see him,’ she said.
Outside he had the car, but there was no sign of the chauffeur. ‘He was called up,’ Mr Derwent told her. He settled her as comfortably as possible and started the car.
‘Remember when our gardener George joined up and his younger brother Henry took his place?’ he asked her.
‘Yes – George was injured at the Somme, wasn’t he?’ His comrades had been killed, she could not help remembering.
‘Henry’s been called up now and the youngest brother Joe is working for us. He has even less idea what he’s doing than Henry.’
It was nearly lunchtime when they drove through London. Businessmen and a few men in uniform wandered the streets but the atmosphere was subdued.
‘I’m having to take on more tasks myself, with such a shortage of staff,’ he went on. ‘And of course the forestry business occupies much of my time still. It’s flourishing, thanks partly to the war.’
‘It must be tiring for you.’ It was far easier to talk to Edmund’s father than to his mother or Beatrice.
‘Sometimes I prefer it like that. I’m so exhausted at night I don’t stay awake for long worrying about Edmond.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’ve found,’ she said, ‘though the anxiety often makes me wake early.’
Until We Meet Again Page 23