by Edwards, Eve
Dr Cameron cleared his throat and fiddled with the pile of letters on the desk in front of him.
Helen had a horrid recollection of a time when she was seven of being summoned before her primary-school headmistress to be blamed for a broken window when she had not even been among those throwing stones. The mistake had been straightened out quickly, but for a few minutes she had felt the awfulness of being a scapegoat. It was happening again.
One of the other nurses, a Miss Kite from Liverpool whom Helen hardly knew, raised her hand.
‘Yes, nurse?’
‘I would like to say that Miss Hunt and I were on duty together the whole time as I had been ordered to show her our routines as she’s new to the unit.’
Miss Hunt, her face pinched and pale, nodded eagerly. ‘That’s the truth, sir.’
‘So you can vouch for each other, for every minute? No one took a break, went outside under any pretext?’ Dr Barnett pressed.
‘No, sir. We had a break at four, but we stayed on the ward as a man was … well, he was breathing his last and we held his hand as he passed.’ Miss Kite folded her hands in front of her, head hung, as if the admission of offering comfort were a shameful secret. ‘Isn’t that right, Sally?’
‘Yes, yes, that’s true. Neither of us stepped into the nurses’ room, not even for a tea break.’
‘Nurse Sandford?’ Dr Barnett turned to her. ‘Can you account for your movements last night?’
‘Not to the same degree, sir. I remember it as a normal night. I remember seeing Miss Kite and Miss Hunt holding vigil with the corporal who died. Lung collapse and pneumonia.’
‘Did you go into the nurses’ room?’
‘I think I did. I usually have some tea around three to keep me going.’
‘Did you notice if the door was unlocked or if the cabinet had been tampered with?’
‘No, I remember unlocking the door as usual. The room appeared undisturbed, but then I wasn’t looking for any sign of a break-in so I may have missed it.’
‘We’re not looking for a person who broke into the room. The door was unlocked and locked behind the perpetrator. It was only the cupboard that was forced. We fear it has to be one of the medical staff.’ Barnett drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘Miss Sandford, you can see that you’ve left us in a difficult position.’
How had she done that? By acting as normal? ‘Sir?’
‘You are the only one to have admitted being in or near the room when the theft took place. I will ask Sister Richards to conduct a search of your quarters. Until then, you will stay here.’
Helen found the suggestion that her private things should be picked through on a flimsy suspicion immensely offensive. ‘You won’t find anything, I assure you.’
‘Why?’ Barnett glared at her. ‘Because you’ve already handed the black market pills off to your contacts?’
‘No!’ Helen was truly shocked that he could entertain such a low opinion of her. ‘I meant there was nothing to find because I didn’t steal anything.’
Barnett flicked his fingers in the direction of the other two nurses who were standing close to each other in a mortified huddle. ‘You two can go.’
They left but not before they had given Helen an accusing look as if it were her fault they were caught up in this ugly scene.
‘Miss Sandford, Helen,’ rumbled Dr Cameron, ‘try and help us prove you innocent here. Can you think of anyone who might have had the opportunity to rob the cupboard last night? Whoever it was did not take much. My deduction was that it was either for personal use or because they hoped no one would notice. Only Sister Richards’ admirable inventory and the scratches around the cupboard lock alerted us to the theft so soon.’ Dr Cameron’s balding crown no longer seemed a comforting beacon, more a rock on which Helen was about to be wrecked.
‘People are coming and going all the time, sir. I really couldn’t say. I was with my patients.’ Helen’s shock was thawing to fear and anger, a poisonous brew swirling in her stomach. How could she prove her innocence? She could fling accusations at Reg, but one, he was gone and they might say that she was doing it on purpose, choosing someone not there to defend himself; and two, she did not want to get a friend in trouble and take away his chance of getting his safe job. She would have to stick to her position of ignorance.
Dr Cameron frowned. ‘What aren’t you telling us, Miss Sandford? Your face is quite expressive, you know; you’re not sharing all your thoughts with us.’
‘I was trying to puzzle out how someone could have gone in behind my back,’ she replied, hoping her voice was steady.
‘Yes, that is a mystery,’ agreed Dr Barnett snidely.
‘I would never – have never – taken anything without permission from that cupboard. I know how dangerous those medicines can be in the wrong hands.’
The two doctors exchanged a glance. Helen rubbed her upper arms, trying to bring warmth to her chilled skin. The gulf between the male doctors and the female nurses had always been there, but now it felt as wide as the Grand Canyon. They were clubbing together, even nice Dr Cameron, assuming the fault lay with the nurses; why were they not questioning themselves? The doctors had ample opportunity to help themselves to the medicine store; why did it have to be her rather than one of them? She sensed they had entered the room with a pattern in their head of who would be guilty; she fitted that description so was condemned out of hand.
‘This isn’t fair, Dr Cameron; you know it isn’t. What have I ever done to make you suspect me of this crime?’
He coughed and rolled a pen in his fingers. ‘I do not suspect you of trying to sell medicine on the black market, Nurse Sandford –’ she felt a wave of relief – ‘no, my suspicion is that you have been prevailed upon to slip a soldier a few pills because they worked on your generous heart.’
Helen’s jaw dropped. How could he think such a thing? She had trusted him, liked him, and all the time he thought her capable of such a betrayal – through weakness!
Dr Cameron was not looking at her so did not notice her expression. ‘Quite wrong-headed, of course. Furnishing another with the means to commit suicide is no mercy. Our profession vows to do no harm, and this clearly breaks that.’
‘You are wrong on all counts,’ Helen stated firmly. Her knees were shaking, muscles spasming, but no one offered her a seat. Angry beyond words, she sat down on an unoccupied chair. Better that than collapse.
Silence fell in the room. Outside the noise of the hospital went on as usual, the growl of arriving ambulances, the calls of the injured. They sounded like the mewing cry of seagulls, hardly human. What a waste of everyone’s time, she thought. We should be out there – helping.
Sister Richards returned bearing a sheaf of letters. She placed them on the table in front of Dr Barnett with care. He frowned, uncertain what they meant. Helen recognized them as her personal correspondence, most from Sebastian, a few from Flora, one from her mother that had been forwarded by Toots at Christmas – old stuff, nothing that could have any bearing on last night.
‘Did you find any pills?’ Dr Barnett asked.
‘No, sir.’ Sister Richards waited.
‘Then why did you bring these?’ He flipped the top envelope. ‘I hardly think we should stoop to reading the girl’s love letters.’
‘I wanted you to confirm my suspicion. Please take a closer look at the letter at the top.’
Dr Barnett pulled it out of the pile and slipped it from the envelope. ‘Good God, it’s in German! Can you read this?’ He thrust it at Dr Cameron.
The Scotsman picked it up gingerly and scanned it. ‘I understand the gist – nothing but family news
and Christmas wishes.’
Helen felt like a mountaineer as the slope she climbed began to crumble beneath her boots. ‘Of course there’s nothing else in it. It’s from my mother.’
‘You’re German?’ Barnett’s question came out as an accusation.
‘My mother is German. My father is English. She never learnt to write well in English so has always written to my sister and me in her native tongue.’
Barnett stood up. ‘Sister Richards, did you know Miss Sandford was German?’
‘No, sir. Never suspected it.’
Dr Cameron placed the letter back in the envelope. ‘One moment, Dr Barnett, don’t go leaping to conclusions. Miss Sandford here is only half German – no cause to question her loyalty to her English side.’
‘So did you know then?’ Dr Barnett’s voice had risen a notch, indignation pouring from him like blood from an arterial wound. The more he let his mood splash and spill in the room, the less Helen felt like defending herself. It was so pointless. She was half German; she hadn’t made it known because she feared a reaction like this; that was enough to condemn her, particularly when she had already been found guilty of the other matter without evidence to support it.
‘I don’t know what to say to you. Yes, my mother is German. No, that does not change how I feel about my job here as a nurse or my loyalty to my country, though I regret the war of course.’
Dr Barnett snorted.
‘I did not take the pills and did not see anyone else do so. If you decide I am guilty of theft, you are doing so without a scrap of evidence; if you condemn me for my heritage, well, I can’t do anything about that.’ She shrugged, but the movement was mere bitter bravado.
‘We are more worried that you hid your heritage from us,’ said Dr Cameron.
‘I did not hide it. I was never asked and it didn’t seem relevant. I don’t know who your parents are, Dr Cameron, or yours, Dr Barnett. For all I know they could be Japanese.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. How could it not be relevant? You must have loyalties to your mother’s country – you might even be aiding Germany for all we know!’ Barnett shook the Christmas letter at her as if this were a top-secret document.
Dr Cameron put a hand on his forearm. ‘Steady on. We mustn’t leap to conclusions.’
But that was just what they had done.
‘I can’t change what I am. I can’t prove my innocence when you have already decided I am guilty.’ Helen felt light-headed, almost reckless. ‘Strange, I thought English justice was based on the idea that someone is presumed innocent until guilt is proven.’
‘Miss Sandford, you had the opportunity. No one else did,’ said Sister Richards.
‘Clearly that is not true because I am not the thief.’ She hugged her arms round her waist, fearing she would break apart.
‘Helen, you have to see how it looks to us.’ Dr Cameron squeezed his hands together, hating the whole business he had been dragged into.
No, she didn’t have to see, because if he were her friend, as he had appeared to be for the last few months, he wouldn’t do this to her. Her colleagues should at least give her the benefit of the doubt after her weeks of faithful service, wading without complaint through the blood of the casualties, but here they were, all too ready to believe the worst of her even before her German half had been revealed. With that put on the scales against her, she could see they would not shift from their view that she had to be responsible for the crime as a German girl would naturally be working against them.
‘I am innocent,’ she whispered. ‘Why won’t you believe me?’ She bit the inside of her mouth to stop tears forming. No more – she would give them no more of herself.
‘I’m afraid, Miss Sandford, the circumstances suggest otherwise. You are relieved of your duties and must be confined to your quarters until we decide what to do with you.’ Dr Barnett made a note on a piece of paper in front of him. ‘I’m not sure what steps need to be taken now, not having had a nurse do such a thing before. I suppose you should be court-martialled – the hospital functions under military discipline.’ Dr Barnett straightened his cuffs.
‘It’s only a few pills,’ pleaded Dr Cameron. ‘I would have thought we could be satisfied with Miss Sandford’s resignation.’
‘What about her German affiliation? We can’t let a dangerous person roam the front.’
‘She is only half German and I’ve never seen any evidence that she had looked for information beyond what pertained to her duties. Don’t throw such accusations about. The penalties are too grave for us to make a mistake.’
Helen stared at the wall, feeling detached as they discussed whether or not she had passed secrets to the Kaiser. They could get her shot if they carried on spinning such insubstantial stuff into formal charges. Her desire to do her duty, to risk the same as a man, had not even been mentioned. Her sacrifices all for nothing. She had never felt German, never considered for one second that she might side with the enemy. They were cutting her open with their accusations.
‘Helen?’ Dr Cameron was talking to her, but she didn’t want to answer. ‘Miss Sandford?’
She dipped her chin.
‘Dr Barnett has been persuaded that it is enough if you resign and return to England at the earliest opportunity. Do you agree to do so?’
Her fingers clenched the coarse material of her skirt. ‘I can’t be a nurse any longer?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Even though I’ve done nothing wrong?’
‘We have to agree to differ on that.’
‘You’re giving me no choice.’
Dr Barnett spluttered. ‘You have a choice between prison and freedom, Miss Sandford. I think we are being more than generous. I don’t think you realize just what the repercussions of your behaviour are going to be. We’re giving you a chance to leave before the news of your outrageous abuse of a position of trust becomes widely known.’
‘You could stay and bring your case to a court martial, but I would not advise it,’ Dr Cameron said. ‘The penalties would be severe.’
‘Again you assume I’d be found guilty.’
‘You’d be held in custody until the military court convened.’
Helen was engulfed in a wave of fear and loneliness, suddenly aware how young and isolated she was with no family or friends around to advise her. Should she stand her ground and sit in a military cell until her case was heard? But so much about her was founded on lies if they asked – her age, her background. Doubtless, they’d turn what had been innocent stretching of the truth or omission of certain details about her family into a fiendish plot to undermine the British military. Already her reputation was to be shredded by the newspapers back home, it seemed, with no recourse to justice for her. She was being made a pariah. Really she had no option.
She gave a tiny shrug. ‘Then I resign.’
Dr Cameron allowed himself a relieved smile. ‘Go home, Helen. Put this behind you. You’re not a bad girl though you may have made mistakes here. You can start again.’
But she didn’t have a home and no one would take her in if her name were bandied about as a suspected traitor. All she had was Sebastian. Oh God, what would he say when he heard of her disgrace? Would he believe her or would he also turn out to be a man of straw when she went to him for help, much as Dr Cameron had? She couldn’t bear it if he did. No, he wouldn’t. Not Sebastian.
‘Go to your room and pack your things, Miss Sandford,’ Sister Richards said. ‘The next medical transport leaves for Le Havre at three. Make sure you are on it.’
Leaving with no thanks, no reference. They truly were intent on destroying her.
18
Helen sat in the corner seat of the carriage carrying her own quarantine with her. The nurses and doctors on duty had little time to spare to wonder about her presence, and had merely been told to ensure she went directly to Le Havre without alighting or talking to anyone en route. She had even been forbidden from making herself useful though she could see several injured servicemen in her vicinity who would benefit from fresh dressings and more liquids. Shock had dulled her feelings, otherwise she would have got up and dealt with the need in front of her rather than accept it. Instead, she was reduced to staring out of the dirty window, watching the fields flick by, crops scraped off mud so only stubble remained, bullet-like grain bundled to a miserable harvest home after a wet summer.
It was strange how quickly her life had been rolled up and stuffed in her valise. Mary Henderson had helped her – against orders – decrying the verdict passed so entirely without evidence. In fact, she had done most of the packing as Helen had been unable to do more than stand in the middle of the room hugging her diaries to her chest. Helen suspected from a few things Mary said that she too had reasoned that Reg might have been behind the theft. It would be well within his character to acquire what he needed. The doctors had applauded this very trait in him. Mary must also have decided that flinging accusations would not change the outcome, not now Helen’s parentage had been dragged out and paraded before the entire camp. Even if found innocent of theft, Helen was irreparably tarred and feathered in their minds for collaborating with her German blood.
Mary had carried Helen’s bag to the train and hugged her before putting her on-board.