by Kate Eastham
As the world outside exploded again and lumps of grit fell down on their heads, he kissed her again, hard this time. She pulled away for a moment, gasping a little, then she was kissing him back, giving like for like, feeling a hunger in her body that she never knew she had. She pushed herself against him and he stepped back against the wall of the bunker. It didn’t seem to matter where they were and what was going on outside. They broke away from each other for a moment and she looked up but couldn’t see his face properly. She could just feel the pounding of his heart and hear his breath coming fast. When the next big shell exploded, showering them yet again with grit and earth, they both dived for the bed and pulled the blankets up over their heads.
At some stage they must have fallen asleep. Ada woke with a start, instantly feeling for him by her side. Finding him gone, she sat up in bed, her hair tousled and her lips feeling bruised. She saw him – thank goodness – just outside the door, standing in the trench enjoying a smoke.
In the same moment that she wondered if it was safe for him to do that, she heard the shriek of a shot and saw Lampeter drop his pipe and fall into the bottom of the trench.
She felt a sharp pain sear through her body as if feeling his pain, and quick as a flash she was up and at the door.
‘I think I’ve been hit!’ he said with a look of surprise on his face. Then, feeling at his right thigh, ‘I have been hit. You’ll have to help me, Ada.’
‘Can you move?’ she asked, a renewed burst of energy surging inside her. ‘I need to get you inside.’ She grabbed his arm and, half dragging, half crawling, got him back into the bunker. ‘Wait there,’ she said as soon as he was in through the door. Then she went to the back of the bunker and pulled the bed over.
‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s too dark over there. We need to see,’ she said. ‘Now, get on the bed.’
He scrambled up on to the bed and lay with his hand clamped over his right thigh. She looked anxiously at the hand fiercely pressed into his flesh, bright red blood seeping out between his fingers.
‘We need a bandage first,’ he said, ‘just in case there’s torrential bleeding.’
‘Of course,’ said Ada, already pulling a bandage and a lint pad out of her bag. ‘Right, as soon as you move your hand I’ll compress with the pad. Ready? Now!’ He lifted his hand and Ada was quick to press the lint down as if her own life depended on it. She couldn’t help noticing that Lampeter had gone white, having seen the wound, and knew she was going to have to continue to take the lead in treating his injury.
She held the pad in place for a minute or so, and when there was no seepage and no blood running down his leg she eased the pressure slightly so she could lift the edge of the dressing to take a look. His breeches were torn, just a small slit, so she carefully moved the fabric away and peered closely at the injury.
‘What do you think?’ said Lampeter. ‘How bad is it?’
‘Well … it looks like a scratch,’ she said, starting to giggle. ‘Just a scratch!’ The relief was making her giddy.
Lampeter shot up in bed to get a closer look himself, and then stood, and there and then unbuckled his belt and dropped his breeches. Ada laughed even louder.
He moved over to the doorway and scrutinized the small wound in daylight. ‘Yes, nurse,’ he said, clearly amused, ‘I agree with your diagnosis. Just a scratch. Bugger must have skimmed by me. What a stroke of luck.’
‘Pull your breeches up,’ said Ada, laughing so hard now that tears were streaming down her face and her ribs were hurting. ‘I can hear someone coming down the trench.’ But he was laughing as well and seemed incapable of any action. In the end she went over, grabbed them and pulled them back up. ‘It doesn’t even need a dressing,’ she said. ‘I’ll just give it a clean with some iodine.’
She buckled his belt for him, still laughing and crying at the same time.
‘Thank you, nurse,’ he said with a grin. ‘Now, could you pass me the suture please … I need to stitch up my breeches; they’re the only pair I’ve got.’
As they were laughing, a soldier came to the door and looked into the bunker in amazement. ‘Everything all right in here?’
‘Yes,’ they said together, laughing even harder and needing to sit down on the bed.
The soldier went on his way, muttering, ‘It takes people different ways, being under fire all night.’
Sober at last, they went over to the bed and gratefully crawled back under the blankets, lying close together, their arms around each other, and must have fallen back to sleep because the next thing they heard was the sound of Captain Townley’s voice.
‘Glad you two made it through all right,’ he said. ‘We’ve arranged for you to move out with a party going back up to camp in about ten minutes. Is that suitable?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Lampeter, scrambling up from the bed.
‘At ease,’ said Townley. ‘Be ready to leave in ten minutes.’
When he’d gone, Lampeter looked down at Ada and repeated, ‘At ease, Nurse Houston,’ and they both snorted as they tried to stifle their laughter. Then he leant over and gave her one last kiss before they had to get up and start to resume their previous lives.
As Ada stood by the door waiting for the order to move, she felt the morning air on her face. Closing her eyes for a moment she breathed in the smell of the earth made fresh by rain. When she opened her eyes she saw a black and white bird sitting on top of the trench looking down at her with what seemed like a puzzled expression. It was a pied wagtail.
‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘Get lost, you cheeky bugger.’
As they made their way back towards camp, Ada walked by Lampeter’s side. His leg was a bit sore but it didn’t slow him down, and she kept smiling to herself as she thought about their night in the trench. As they covered more and more ground she began to look around her and see the colours that had emerged from beneath a layer of dust. Even the black of the earth was more satisfying, and the newly washed plants, the few that remained, stood out with a green so fresh she could have bitten it. And there were red flowers coming up through the cracks in the ground, beautiful red poppies.
21
‘Although there might be only a few short and sullen roars of the great guns by day, few nights passed without some fighting in the trenches … and when I awoke in the night and heard the thunder of the guns fiercer than usual, I have quite dreaded the dawn that might usher in bad news.’
Mary Seacole
The pointed canopies of the army tents began to emerge clean against the bright blue sky and Ada caught a glimpse of one or two soldiers in their red coats. She looked again at Lampeter and he smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. Then his face straightened and he started to frown a little as he became, once again, Dr Lampeter.
They found the hospital tent almost empty and Rose busy packing up their supplies. She leapt up as soon as she saw them. ‘Thank goodness!’ she said. ‘I could hear those shells going all night long and I’ve been praying that you were both safe.’
‘We’re fine, we’re fine,’ said Ada, not wanting any fuss. ‘Where have all the patients gone?’
‘They were moved out yesterday and this morning. Some have gone down to the hospital and others to the harbour to await transfer to Miss Nightingale in Scutari. They moved them all by train.’
And what about the stack of bodies behind the tent, thought Ada, are they still there?
‘Are you all right?’ asked Rose, giving Ada the once-over. ‘You look a bit flushed. You’re not coming down with something, are you?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Ada, knowing exactly what had caused it but not ready to share that with anyone, not even Rose, just yet.
‘It’s just that Dr Rossiter has been taken ill with some fever. We don’t think it’s cholera, but he’s put himself into isolation just in case.’
‘What’s that?’ said Lampeter, coming over to stand by Ada. ‘Rossiter?’
‘Yes,’ said Ada. ‘So
me fever or other.’
‘I must go and see him, check him over.’
‘No,’ said Rose. ‘He gave express orders that no one was to see him, just in case the fever is catching. He doesn’t want it spreading.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said Lampeter, frowning. ‘Right then, let’s get this stuff into the wagon. Ada, I mean Nurse Houston, help me with this box, will you?’
Rose could sense a strangeness that had come over her two colleagues but had no idea why. She assumed that being down at the front line overnight had been a harrowing experience for both of them.
As they began packing up the boxes and clearing the tent, Ada felt the exhaustion that she had been holding at bay hit her with some force. Somehow it felt so sad, so sad just to tidy up and leave the tent empty, almost as if nobody really cared about all those who had passed through over the last few days, or all those dead bodies that had lain out behind. As if they too had just been cleared away, swept up and disposed of, ready for the next lot of dead and wounded as the inevitable cycle of war continued.
By the time the last of the boxes were ready to go, they were flagging and needed to sit down together and eat the remains of the food that had been provided. As they ate, Lampeter produced his flask and offered it round. Rose declined, but Ada accepted some eagerly. She didn’t just want it, she felt that she needed it and took a good swig before handing it back to him. In her exhausted state even that small amount made her light-headed and a bit fuzzy, but she felt better; it softened the tightness in the pit of her stomach.
Watching Lampeter drain the dregs, she started to feel annoyed with him – he could have offered her a bit more. And now that they were back in camp she could feel him stepping further and further away from the easy intimacy that they had shared last night. It had been less than twenty-four hours and already she felt that what had happened between them was forgotten or didn’t even matter. She started to seethe inside. It looked like her grandfather and Mrs Regan had been right all along: a man of his standing, from his class, would only be looking at a woman like her, from the streets of Liverpool, for one thing and one thing alone. And when that was done, the woman would be thrown aside, discarded. Yes, it certainly felt like that.
Progress along the road back to Balaklava was slow and as they moved further from the camp Ada’s heart began to feel heavy; it just didn’t feel right for them to be going back without Billy as part of the group.
They were heavily loaded and all exhausted, even the horses. In the end they all got down to walk, Lampeter leading the horses by the bridle, Ada and Rose each resting a hand on the side of the wagon, lost in their own thoughts. By the time they got to the turn-off to the British Hotel, the light was beginning to fade.
‘We’ll call at Mrs Seacole’s place,’ said Lampeter. ‘Have a bite to eat before we go back to the hospital.’ Ada saw the concern on Rose’s face and it mirrored her own, but hot food and a glass of that cherry brandy would certainly be welcome.
‘Must we, Dr Lampeter?’ said Rose. ‘They’ll be busy at the hospital with all the new admissions. We need to get back and see if they need any help.’
‘We’ll be late back anyway; it will be almost curfew time and you two won’t be allowed on to the ward till tomorrow,’ said Lampeter firmly. ‘And I don’t know about you but we’re not in much shape to help out tonight. We need to get some sleep then come at it fresh tomorrow.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Rose, ‘but I don’t think we should stay long.’
Ada kept quiet. She had another reason for wanting to call at the British Hotel – she was going to ask Mrs Seacole if she could stay there. Then she would be closer to the front line in case they needed help or there was any news of Billy; and further away from Lampeter. She knew that going back to work on the ward with him now would be awkward and she was feeling increasingly irritated with him. She had no reason to feel ashamed of what had happened between them last night, but the way he’d been acting made her feel that they should keep the whole thing secret, that he was ashamed of her in some way. According to Lampeter himself, there would continue to be skirmishes in the trenches for the next few days and a big push towards Sevastopol was imminent. So she would speak to Mrs Seacole and let her make the request. She felt sure that Lampeter wouldn’t say no.
It was warm and full of colour at the British Hotel that evening. They had good food and Lampeter and Ada both had a strong drink. She lapped up the cherry brandy and as she drank she stopped thinking about all she had seen in that hospital tent and in the trenches. Dr Lampeter had plenty of drink inside him by the time he stood up, a bit unsteady, ready to leave. Ada had already had a quiet word with Mrs Seacole, and when she asked him if Ada could stay, he paused, taken aback momentarily, before agreeing readily.
‘First-rate idea, Mrs S,’ he said, his words slurring, unable to meet Ada’s eyes. ‘Big push coming.’ Then he frowned, as if he was trying to work something out, and tried to smile.
Ada looked away. She didn’t want any fuss and wanted to stay with Mrs Seacole, but she thought he would at least have put up more of a fight. Then a harsh voice in her head told her: For goodness’ sake, Ada, as if he really cares anyway, so long as he’s got some nurse at his beck and call.
Rose came over to say goodbye with a worried look on her face. ‘Are you sure that you want to stay? This is dangerous work up here close to the front line. Can I not persuade you to change your mind?’
Ada looked down momentarily, touched by Rose’s concern and feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t been able to share the full story. ‘I’ll be fine here with Mrs Seacole and Sally,’ she said, at last able to look Rose in the eye. ‘Truly, I think with all the experience I’ve had in the last few days I can really help up here, and I’ll have the opportunity to learn more as well from Mrs Seacole. I will be fine – please don’t worry.’
Rose sighed. ‘Well, it looks like I won’t be able to do anything to convince you to come back with me and Dr Lampeter seems to have approved it,’ she said, gesturing in Lampeter’s direction as he made his way unsteadily towards the door. ‘Promise me you’ll stay safe though,’ Rose said, hugging Ada and then giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Just keep away from the trenches and don’t take any risks. I don’t want anything happening to you …’ she added as she hastily made her way out through the door that Lampeter had left ajar.
‘Don’t worry!’ called Ada after her friend, then more quietly to herself, ‘I’m sorry, Rose, I just can’t go back yet.’
There was no line of injured soldiers at the door the next morning, just a couple of what looked more like boys in uniform standing quietly, leaning against the wall, sharing a smoke. Ada watched as Mrs Seacole opened the door and shouted, ‘Come on then, you two!’
Ada couldn’t work out what the matter was. They didn’t look injured; they just looked a bit shifty.
The boys stood staring at the floor until Mrs Seacole said, ‘Come on then, spit it out. They’ll be needing you back in the trenches.’
‘The officer told us to come. We need a remedy – we’ve all been down to Balaklava and picked something up.’
‘Yes, and what would that be?’ said Mrs Seacole, staring directly at the one who had spoken, who immediately looked down at the ground.
Then the other lad piped up, ‘We’ve been drinking and seeking some bawdy female company in Balaklava and now we’re pissing pins and needles.’
‘You have the clap,’ stated Mrs Seacole in her straightforward manner. ‘Let me get something for you to take by mouth and something to put on the affected area.’
When Mrs Seacole came back she gave each man one of her remedies to mix and take with plenty of water. She then gave them a pot of powder to shake freely down their breeches.
‘You’ve got off lightly this time,’ said Mrs Seacole. ‘The pox is much more serious – it can kill you. Make sure you check for sores and come straight back to me if you find any. Now, off you go.’
The
lads scuttled off through the door and Mrs Seacole turned to Ada and Sally. ‘What with the cholera and the fevers and the venereal diseases going round that lot I’m amazed that they have any men left to fight! Now, you two girls, take heed, you make sure that you choose a man carefully and make sure that he is clean and that he stays clean.’
Ada was already blushing at the information, but when Mrs Seacole added, ‘And try to find a man with his own French letter so you won’t be having babies all the time,’ she felt her face go even redder and looked down at the floor.
To everyone’s surprise there were no other customers that day, but Mrs Seacole said that she could feel in her bones that something was about to happen. And almost as soon as she had spoken those fateful words the big guns fell silent and they all stopped in their tracks and looked at each other. Ada felt the skin prickle at the back of her neck.
‘We need to pack the bags,’ said Mrs Seacole. ‘I know exactly what’s happening. They’re fighting in the trenches as we speak, hand-to-hand fighting with small-bore guns and bayonets. There’ll be injuries from the shelling as well. Sally, you stay here in case we get walking wounded at the door; you know what to do.’ Sally nodded. ‘Ada, you come with me,’ she said, grabbing a medical bag and leading the way out of the door. ‘You can take Sally’s pony.’
‘What?’ said Ada. ‘Take it where?’
‘Ride it, of course!’