The Name of Valour

by The Name of Valour (retail) (epub)

  ‘Five soldiers, actually,’ Torrance corrected her. ‘Though I believe the other two are respectably dressed.’ He ventured a winning smile, which quickly faded when it was not returned.

  ‘Fifty hours!’ exclaimed Rossi. ‘That’s rather a long delivery, is it no’?’

  ‘Longer than most, sure, but not so unusual for a footling breech with a prolapsed umbilical and anterior presentation, and no facilities for Caesarean section,’ she retorted with a flash of defiance. ‘I once assisted in a delivery that lasted more than seventy-two hours.’

  ‘Mother and child both doing well, I trust?’ asked Torrance.

  ‘Miraculously, yes – a miracle which the father ascribed to the mercy of Allah rather than any skill on the part of the presiding physician, but that goes with the territory in a Muslim country.’

  ‘Can I offer you a beer?’

  ‘I don’t drink beer.’ She snatched up the nearest bottle and took a swig. ‘And anyhow, it’s not your beer to offer, it’s my husband’s.’

  It occurred to Torrance that if her husband came in now and found his wife with three naked squaddies, there was the potential for an ugly scene. Mr Sheridan might have a free-and-easy attitude to where he put his own todger, but it did not follow he would be equally broad-minded about what his wife got up to in his absence.

  ‘Is he due home soon, missus?’ he asked, his cockney accent creeping back now he saw he was wasting his posh voice on her.

  She doffed her hat and pressed the beer bottle to the middle of her forehead, closing her eyes again. ‘No… he’s with the FMSVF, he may not be back for days.’

  The Federated Malay States Volunteer Force was the Malayan version of the Territorials. A lieutenant of the FMSVF had been assigned to Torrance’s platoon as a guide when the battalion had first gone upcountry to fight the Japanese coming across the border.

  Remembering herself, she opened her eyes and looked at them nervously. ‘Why? Say, if you’ve got any ideas about taking any liberties…!’

  ‘We widna dream of it, doctor!’ Rossi hastened to assure her.

  Well, I might, thought Torrance, given a little encouragement. She might be married, but evidently she was not happily married, if the diary was anything to go by. If she wanted to pay her husband back for his infidelity in his own coin, Torrance would be more than happy to oblige.

  She did not look reassured. ‘Ang!’ she called. ‘Ang, could you come here a moment, please?’

  ‘Who are you calling for?’ asked Torrance.

  ‘Ang. The “boy”.’ Rising from her seat, she crossed to one of the windows overlooking the servants’ quarters at the back. ‘Ang! Shì! Soo-Lung! Anyone?’ She turned to face them accusingly. ‘What have you done with the help?’

  ‘Nothing!’ said Torrance. ‘Ain’t that right, lads?’

  Grant and Rossi nodded. ‘We’ve no’ seen anyone since we arrived,’ said Rossi. ‘And we checked the servants’ quarters.’

  ‘I’m going into my bedroom to…’ She gestured at one of the doors. ‘There aren’t any more naked guys in there, are there?’

  ‘No, doc,’ said Torrance. ‘Or if there are, they didn’t come with us,’ he added, once again venturing his most winning smile. Judging from her expression, however, his winning smile was going through a losing streak.

  ‘I’m going to change into some dry clothes,’ said Sheridan. ‘Would it be too much to hope that you’ll have made yourselves respectable by the time I return?’

  While she was in the bedroom, Torrance, Grant and Rossi got dressed. Their khaki drills were still damp and clammy, but that could not be helped. Presently she re-emerged. She had doffed her mackintosh and wore a jacket over a frock with a pleated, knee-length skirt.

  ‘How did you get past Primsie?’ Torrance asked her.

  ‘Who’s Primsie?’

  ‘“Primsie” Kerr, the bloke on guard on the veranda.’

  ‘There’s no one on the veranda. At least, there wasn’t when I got back just now.’

  Torrance ran outside. There was no sign of Kerr. Then he heard the wheeze of someone turning over an engine without firing the ignition.

  Grant, Rossi and Sheridan followed him out. ‘Zat a motor car?’ asked Rossi.

  Torrance nodded. ‘It’s a Morris Ten.’

  ‘It’s my husband’s,’ said Sheridan.

  Grant glared at Torrance. ‘You didna tell us there was a car!’

  ‘I was gonna tell you later.’

  ‘Oh, aye? Are you sure you wasnae gaunae try sneaking off behind our backs an’ leavin’ us stranded?’

  ‘What, like Primsie’s doing?’

  ‘He’s stealing the car?’

  ‘Trying to, by the sound of it.’

  ‘Then why are we no’ trying to stop him?’ asked Rossi.

  Laughing, Torrance took the rotor arm from his pocket and held it up for the others to see. ‘Well, he ain’t gonna get very far without this.’

  The engine stopped turning over, and Kerr emerged from the garage, rubbing sweat from his neck with a rag. Seeing Torrance, Grant and Rossi watching him from the veranda above, he started guiltily.

  ‘Going for an evening drive, was you, Primsie?’ asked Torrance.

  ‘Just seeing if the bloody thing actually works. Some bastard’s removed the rotor arm…’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Torrance. ‘I’m the bastard.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘So none of us would be tempted to try to drive off in it and leave the rest of us stranded.’

  Noticing Sheridan, Kerr snatched off his balmoral. ‘Sorry, missus, I didna see you there.’

  ‘Say, you’re not getting any crazy ideas about taking my husband’s car, are you?’ she asked.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ asked Torrance.

  ‘You’re darn tooting I do!’

  ‘Who’s this?’ asked Kerr.

  ‘Dr Sheridan, meet Primsie Kerr,’ said Torrance. ‘Primsie, this is Dr Sheridan. She lives here.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, missus,’ Kerr said fawningly, ascending the steps to join them on the veranda. ‘Corporal Kerr. I’m in command of this here detachment.’

  ‘Excuse me, miss,’ said MacLeod, who had now joined them on the veranda. ‘Did you say you’re a doctor? Would you mind taking a dekko at my arm?’

  ‘Oi! You’re supposed to be on watch!’ said Kerr.

  ‘What’s wrong with your arm?’ asked Sheridan.

  ‘I got shot in it.’

  ‘Well, land’s sakes! Why didn’t you say so, you chump?’

  ‘Titch, why don’t you spell MacLeod on watch?’ suggested Torrance.

  Grant glanced at Kerr, who nodded and jerked his head towards the back of the bungalow. All six of them trooped back inside, Grant continuing through to the back door. In the sitting room, Sheridan made MacLeod sit down so she could examine his wound. She snapped her fingers at Torrance. ‘Bring that lamp closer,’ she ordered, peeling off the dressing. She drew her breath in sharply.

  ‘Can you manage a bullet wound?’ Torrance asked her.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Well, you know… you’re a woman doctor.’

  ‘Gee, there are no flies on you. So what?’

  ‘Isn’t maternity and other women’s diseases more in your line?’

  ‘I’m a family doctor… what you Limeys call a GP. Since I came to Malaya I’ve dealt with malaria, blackwater fever, dengue fever, beriberi, ulcers, tick typhus, scabies, crocodile bites and tiger-maulings. Not to mention all the everyday ailments and maladies a family doctor in Wichita Falls has to deal with. I think I can manage a bullet wound. And by the way, maternity is not a disease.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Torrance muttered to Rossi. ‘It’s a social disease.’

  ‘Did you disinfect this?’ Sheridan asked MacLeod.

  ‘I did,’ said Torrance. ‘I emptied a vial of iodine into it.’

  ‘Oh, you poor kid!’ said Sheridan. ‘I bet that stung.’
>
  ‘It was nothing really,’ MacLeod said manfully.

  ‘He’s a big lad, he could take it,’ said Torrance, jealous of the attention MacLeod was getting.

  ‘I guess I’d better put a couple of stitches in it. Could someone make me some coffee?’

  ‘I’ll get it.’ Rossi headed for the kitchens.

  ‘Thanks.’ Rooting in her Gladstone bag, Sheridan produced a syringe and an ampoule. ‘I’ll give you a local anaesthetic,’ she told MacLeod.

  When the anaesthetic had taken effect, she swabbed the wound with surgical alcohol and stitched it up before putting a clean dressing over it. ‘I’ll give you some extra dressings in the morning,’ she told him. ‘You’ll need to change them every day, okay?’

  MacLeod nodded. ‘Will I have a scar?’

  ‘Just a small—’

  ‘Yeah,’ interrupted Torrance. ‘Bloody great ugly one. You’ll be able to show it off to all the judies on Sauchiehall Street, tell ’em how you got it in a battle with a squadron of Jap tanks, and you armed with nothing more than your bundook.’

  MacLeod smiled beatifically.

  ‘And now – if no one has any objections – I’m gonna pass out.’ Sheridan promptly flopped back in her chair, her head lolling, and started snoring.

  ‘D’you think she’s awreet?’ asked Kerr.

  ‘Oh, aye, the poor wee lassie’s just shagged out,’ said Rossi, who had returned too late with the coffee. ‘It’s no wonder – she said she’d spent fifty hours delivering a bairn.’

  Torrance took the cup and saucer from him.

  ‘That’s for the lassie!’ said Rossi.

  ‘She doesn’t need it now, does she? No sense in letting it go to waste.’

  ‘We canna leave her like that all night,’ said Kerr. ‘She’ll wake up wi’ a crick in her neck.’

  Torrance put the cup and saucer down. ‘We’ll shift her to her bed. Give us a hand, Lefty.’ He took her under the armpits, Rossi took her ankles, and they carried her through into the bedroom. ‘Get the mozzie net and the sheets, Titch.’

  They placed her gently on the bed and Rossi removed her shoes.

  ‘Now what shall we do?’ asked Kerr.

  ‘I suppose we ought to undress her,’ said Rossi.

  ‘Undress her!’

  ‘Only as far as her underwear,’ Rossi explained hastily. ‘You know, so she doesn’t get her frock all creased.’

  ‘I’ll do it, if you’re squeamish,’ said Torrance. ‘I must’ve separated hundreds of judies from their clobber in my time.’

  ‘You keep your filthy hands off her, you ruddy sex maniac!’ said Kerr.

  ‘We canna leave her like that,’ said Rossi.

  ‘And how’s she supposed to look us in the eye tomorrow, when she knows we’ve all been ogling her in her undies?’ demanded Kerr.

  ‘She’s a doctor,’ said Torrance. ‘She’s used to seeing blokes in the raw. Including us. She’ll understand—’

  Kerr narrowed his eyes. ‘What d’you mean, includin’ you?’

  ‘We was in the altogether when she arrived,’ explained Torrance.

  ‘Just because she’s used to seein’ fellers starko, it disnae follow she wants you to see her starko!’

  ‘Well, that’s a bleedin’ double standard, if ever there was one!’

  The five of them stood around, staring down at her as she lay there, snoring.

  ‘Probably better if we leave her as she is.’ Rossi tucked her in and drew the mosquito net back in place. The others grunted their assent, and the British Army beat a hasty retreat from Sheridan’s bedroom.

  * * *

  Torrance slipped into Sheridan’s room before first light with an oil lamp in one hand and a fresh cup of coffee in the other. Putting both down on the bedside table, he pulled aside the mosquito net so he could shake her by the shoulder. ‘Wakey, wakey, doc.’

  She smiled dreamily in her sleep, then opened her eyes and scowled when she recognised him, as if she had been dreaming of Clark Gable and had woken to find Boris Karloff squatting over her. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she groaned, and closed her eyes again, clapping a hand to her forehead. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Half-past five.’

  ‘How long was I out?’

  ‘Eight hours. That’s enough for anyone.’

  ‘Not me, brother. I spent fifty hours delivering a baby yesterday, don’t forget. Yesterday and the day before, I mean. And part of the day before that, come to think of it. What day is it today?’

  ‘Er… Thursday, I think.’

  She turned away from him. ‘Wake me when it’s Monday.’

  ‘Come on, doc. You can kip in the car.’

  She rolled her head back towards him and glared at him with one open eye. ‘And supposing I said I wasn’t gonna get in any car?’

  ‘Then I’d have to say you’re coming with us whether you like it or not.’

  ‘So in addition to stealing my husband’s automobile, now you’re kidnapping me?’

  ‘Not kidnapping. Evacuating.’ He stared at her. ‘You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?’

  ‘Why don’t you explain it to me?’

  ‘Okay, I will. Last night you said you heard on the wireless that we were holding the Japs at Kuala Kangsar?’

  ‘Well, aren’t you?’

  ‘Doc, I don’t know what fairy tales they’ve been spouting on Radio Malaya, but we retreated past Kuala Kangsar just before Christmas. Forty-eight hours ago me an’ the lads were at a place called Trolak watching a squadron of Jap tanks punch through our lines. Now by my reckoning, that’s less than twenty miles from here, which means if we’re not already behind Jap lines, we soon will be.’

  ‘But I’m a civilian. Surely they wouldn’t harm a civilian?’

  ‘From what I hear, most of the people in Nanking were civilians. Women, children and old men. D’you know what a “comfort girl” is?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘How can I put this? The Imperial Japanese Army doesn’t like its men to get lonely at night, if you know what I mean. So what they do is round up all the pretty girls they can find, and put ’em in what they call “cherry blossom houses” – that’s what you’d call a house of ill-repute – and every now and then they let the rude and licentious soldiery loose on them. Now you’re a bit of an eyeful, doc, if I may be so bold. So unless you want to end up as a comfort girl…’

  ‘Point taken.’

  ‘So you be a good girl, drink your coffee, get dressed—’

  Her eyes widened in alarm. She peeked under the covers, and looked relieved.

  ‘—have some breakfast, and then we’ll drive you to Kuala Lumpur. Then you can have your hubby’s car back, and if you’ve any sense, you’ll take it and drive like the clappers to Singapore.’

  ‘Are things really that bad?’

  ‘Missus, you don’t know the half of it!’

  ‘Do you think my husband’s okay?’

  ‘If he’s with the FMSVF, I doubt they’ll be using him in the front-line fighting. He’ll be on lines-of-communication duties, safely in the rear.’ Torrance was not sure that was true, but he had to say something to set her mind at rest. ‘He doesn’t really believe in clairvoyance, psychokinesis and all that cobblers, does he?’

  She looked at him with her brow furrowed. ‘Eric? Of course not. Why would you think that?’

  ‘You’ve got all them magazines about psychics in the front room.’

  She frowned at him a moment longer, and then her brow cleared and she laughed. ‘Not psychics, you chump! Psychiatry. Those are my magazines. I’m studying psychoanalysis – I hope to specialise in psychiatric medicine some day.’

  ‘Really?’ Torrance pasted a fixed grin on his face to mask the feeling of cold panic that swept through him. ‘That’s nice.’ Leaving her to get changed into something less rumpled, he beat a hasty retreat from her bedroom.

  He found Kerr, Grant and Rossi having breakfast in the dining room. ‘Look out, lads –
the judy’s a trick cyclist.’

  Kerr frowned. ‘What, like at the circus, you mean?’

  ‘No, you barmpot! He means she’s a psychiatrist.’ Rossi frowned, and turned back to Torrance. ‘That is what you mean, reet?’

  ‘Yes! So watch what you say in front of her, or before you know it, she’ll be seizing on it as proof that you’ve got an octopus complex.’

  MacLeod entered. ‘The lav’s no’ very comfortable, is it?’

  ‘What lav?’ asked Torrance. In addition to a lack of electricity, the bungalow had no plumbing that he could see, and certainly no lavatories. He had been using a chamber-pot, which he was delighted to be leaving behind for the Japanese to clean.

  ‘That big clay pot in the bath-house.’

  Rossi stared at him. ‘That’s a Shanghai jar.’

  ‘Aye, well, whatever it’s called, it’s no’ very comfortable to sit on.’

  ‘You’re no’ supposed to sit on it! It’s for keeping the bathwater cool.’

  MacLeod blanched. ‘That’s no’ bathwater, is it? I thought it was… I just… oh, God!’

  Torrance roared with laughter. ‘Never mind, Jimmy. That’s a nice little booby trap you’ve left for whatever Jap officer they billet here.’

  Kerr glanced at his watch. ‘You’d better get the car engine warmed up, Titch.’

  ‘Aye, corp.’ Grant rose to his feet, and glanced at Torrance. ‘Rotor arm?’

  Torrance fished it out of his pocket and handed it over.

  Dr Sheridan emerged from the bedroom. She had changed into a light linen jacket over a white blouse, jodhpurs, a stout pair of walking boots and a terai hat. Torrance, Kerr, Grant and Rossi hurriedly rose from the table and gathered in the corner of the room furthest from her, leaving MacLeod blithely tucking into his Spam and beans at the table.

  Sheridan stared at the four men huddled in the far corner. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Oh, aye.’ Kerr grinned through a sheen of sweat. ‘Just grand.’

  ‘Couldna be better,’ said Grant.