“Yes, you could say that.” Mark grinned. “Let me introduce you to Saleem Hussein Karbala Qasim.”
“I think I’ll just call you Saleem. Is it always so hot?”
“Our cool season starts in November and goes through until March, but between May and September it’s extremely hot, one hundred and fourteen degrees during the day, dropping to forty-two degrees at night.”
“With such a variation in temperature, no wonder you Arabs are as tough as old boot leather,” Mark teased his friend.
“We’ll ignore the captain. Now, Sister, did you know the Al Azhard University in Cairo was founded in 970 A.D.?”
“No. I knew Egypt was old because of the pyramids, but…”
“Most Europeans think the same,” Saleem interrupted. “Egypt is not only an ancient culture but also a diverse one. In Cairo there are mosques and Christian churches almost side by side. We have been invaded on and off since biblical times, yet the desert remains unconquered.” His dark eyes flashed.
“All right, we surrender.” Mark threw his hands in the air.
“Are you a Christian, Saleem?” Amy asked, suddenly feeling her face turn red. What if he thought her question impudent? “Sorry.”
“Yes, my family and I are of the Christian faith. Don’t feel embarrassed. It was a natural question for you to ask.”
An oasis, as if dropped by some omnipotent hand, rose up out of the desert, green palm trees in marked contrast to the desert sand. Several colorful tents pitched around a pool of shimmering water gave the scene a biblical look.
“The well here never runs dry,” Saleem explained, “because it is fed by an underground spring. Come along. I should like you both to meet my parents.”
A shy youth came over to help them dismount. Feeling stiff and rather nervous, Amy waited until Mark came up to her before following Saleem toward the largest tent.
After a hurried conversation with the boy, Saleem apologized because his father was absent and only his mother would be there to greet them.
Inside the tent, Amy had time only to notice colorful silk hangings and rich tapestry rugs on the floor before her attention became riveted on a smallish, light-skinned woman hurrying toward them. She wore a flowing blue robe, and her dark hair was pinned back in a neat chignon.
“So, you have brought me some of my fellow countrymen, son?” Realizing this lady was English, Amy smothered an exclamation of surprise.
“Aren’t I what you expected, Sister?” Hazel eyes twinkled with laughter. “Didn’t this naughty boy of mine tell you?”
“No.” Saleem grinned. “I wanted to surprise them.”
“Mother, let me introduce you to Captain Mark Tremayne and Sister Amy Smithfield.”
“I’m pleased to meet you.” Mark gave a slight bow.
Amy held out her hand and met the woman’s cool, firm grasp. “I hope you don’t think it’s an awful cheek of us dropping in like this, Mrs., um…”
“Evaline, my dear, and heavens no. I’m always glad to receive visitors, especially those from home, only your accent isn’t quite…”
“I’m an Australian, Evaline.”
“Now I recognize your accent. Come along, my dears. You must take tea with me, real English tea, of course. My husband, poor man, thinks I’m quite mad, but I never drink anything else.”
Evaline clapped her hands and a young girl came in. “Hanna, tea, please.”
The maid did not speak, just glided out with lowered eyes, returning within minutes with a silver tray and a delicate bone china tea set. A silver dish contained tiny heart-shaped biscuits and several slices of dark cake. A steaming teapot was brought in a couple of minutes later.
As they sat cross-legged on the floor, Evaline plied them with questions about the war. “Is it true the English have suffered heavy casualties at Mons?” she asked Mark.
“Yes, talk is the British Expeditionary Forces have lost half their men.”
“It’s shocking.” Evaline wrung her hands. “My brother’s only son is missing somewhere in Flanders.”
“My mother means Ypres.”
As they continued discussing the war, Amy began to realize the full extent of the carnage in France.
“If you’ve finished your tea, Mark,” Saleem said, “I’ll take you to see my new stallion. He’s superb. If you’ll excuse us, Mother, Sister.”
Mark put his cup on the tray and stood up. “We won’t be long, Amy.”
She returned his smile. He nodded to Evaline before striding out of the tent.
“May I try one of these delicious-looking biscuits?” Amy asked.
“Yes, my dear, do.”
Evaline, a charming, friendly lady, drew Amy out, and within minutes had almost the full story of her longing for Mark.
“He does love you, my dear.” She patted Amy’s hand. “I knew it the minute you both walked in here.”
“You did?”
“Yes, there’s, well, an aura about you both, something intangible, yet there just the same. Don’t think I’m some mad woman who’s been roaming the desert for too long.”
“I didn’t think you were mad at all. It’s strange, because my cousin Guy, who’s in Mark’s battalion, said almost the same thing once, but it’s so hopeless.”
“Never lose hope, my dear. Love is a wonderful emotion that can overcome insurmountable odds.”
“But Mark is terrified of love. He was hurt so badly by his wife I fear he will never get over it. She’s dead, but still seems to have some hold over him.”
“Faith, child. Things will turn out for you. Tell me about Australia. I’ve always wanted to visit, but unfortunately I never got there and probably never will, now.”
“It’s vast and empty, with an untamed beauty.”
She described Guy’s farm and the surrounding countryside, and added, “Melbourne is quite a large city, with numerous shops and restaurants, all rather exciting, but I’m a country girl at heart.”
All of a sudden she yearned for home. For Guy, Sophie, and all her friends in Kilmore. She bit her lip to stop it trembling, and took in a couple of deep, calming breaths.
“What about you, Evaline? Have you been back to England since you left?”
“Yes, my dear, we visit at least twice a year. My husband has business interests over there, and both my sons did their schooling in England. Actually, I met my husband when he attended Oxford.”
“Oh!”
“My father taught there. Hussein, my husband, was one of his students. Our marriage created quite a scandal in England. Over here, too, but love triumphed in the end. It wasn’t easy, mind, but if I had my time over again I wouldn’t change a thing. The power of love, my dear, can overcome anything.”
Amy reached out and clasped one of Evaline’s tanned hands. “I’ve enjoyed my visit. Your tea tasted delicious. I’m so tired of army slops.”
“You’re most welcome, my dear. Visit me again anytime. Before you leave, I’ll give you our address in London. My husband keeps a house in Mayfair, so feel free to come and see us.”
“Thank you for being so kind, Evaline, but you hardly know me.”
“Ah, some people one knows for years, yet never knows. Others, well, a split second in time is enough.”
“It’s strange,” Amy conceded. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever. I can say things to you I can’t tell anyone else, not even Millie, my best friend, who nurses at the hospital with me. Perhaps your desert has cast its spell over me, too.”
“Maybe it has. It gets into your blood, and you’re addicted for life. My two sons are quite English in many ways, yet the desert beckons them back time and again. They can’t escape it. My youngest son will join my father’s old regiment next month.”
“And Saleem?”
Evaline laughed. “I call him John.”
“John!”
“Yes, it’s one of his given names. He’s working as an advisor at British Head Quarters. He’s more valuable to the army that way than if he wer
e merely a soldier.”
The men coming back interrupted them. Amy went up to Mark. “How was the stallion?”
“A splendid beast.”
“Saleem.”
He swung around. “Yes?”
“Why didn’t you tell me your name was John, instead of spooling off such a long mouthful?” she teased.
“Ah.” He chuckled. “Admit it, Sister—you would have been disappointed with plain old John.”
“I would not. Mark, did you know?”
“Yes.”
“You pair of wretches! Honestly! I feel an absolute idiot.” She wagged her finger at them in mock anger.
“Never mind, my dear,” Evaline broke in. “Another cup of tea?”
“No, thank you, we should be leaving. I don’t like being away from the hospital too long.”
“Of course not. Don’t forget our little chat, will you? Here’s the card with our Mayfair address written on it.”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
They took their departure, promising to return again if they got the chance.
“What did you think of my mother?” Saleem asked, once they had mounted their camels.
“A lovely lady. I feel as if I’ve known her all my life,” Amy told him sincerely.
“She liked you, too, I could tell.”
“Amy has a knack of drawing everyone to her; one of those beautiful smiles will ensnare a man for a lifetime.” The teasing tone in Mark’s voice conflicted with his smoldering eyes.
“What a lot of poetic rot you men go on with.”
“Mark is right,” Saleem said. “You’re so fragile-looking, yet you combine strength with compassion.”
She noticed for the first time the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and for an instant could not pull her gaze away.
The three of them dined at an officer’s club in Cairo. Immediately after the meal finished, Saleem took his leave.
“Would you like to go dancing?” Mark asked, squeezing her hand under the table.
“No, thanks, I feel rather grubby. What I told Evaline is true. I don’t like staying away from the hospital for too long. We’re so under-staffed. Several of the girls are suffering heat exhaustion, thanks to these stupid heavy uniforms.”
Arm in arm, they silently strolled along the banks of the Nile. A huge moon cast soft silvery shadows about them. Close by, an owl hooted, its mournful call hovering on the still night air. Amy gave an involuntary start.
“Spooky things, aren’t they, my lovely girl? But I’d never let anything hurt you,” he whispered, hugging her close. “Oh, darling,” he said on a groan, crushing her soft body against the hard contours of his own. “I desperately need to kiss you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist as his mouth claimed hers in a hot passionate kiss that caused excited ripples to surge through her body. His hands moved in a restless, circular caress of her back, while his muscled thighs rasped against the softness of her feminine shape.
“Amy, Amy.” His lips blazed a trail of burning kisses along her throat. The heat of desire sizzled along her veins.
Momentarily he raised his head, then he captured her lips in a passionate savagery that left her weak and spent.
“Oh, God, we can’t go on like this. I’m going out of my mind.”
“Mark.” His name came out on a whispered sob. “Why don’t we get married?”
“You know I can’t. What about your nursing career? They’d send you home.” Releasing her, he stepped back a pace and raked his fingers through his hair. “Thank goodness we’re going into action soon.”
Goose bumps of fear pebbled her body, dousing the fires of passion. “When?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, even if I knew, but it has to be soon. The British Expeditionary Forces are being wiped out in Belgium. Whole regiments have been obliterated. They say Lord Kitchener is raising a new army in England, but it takes time, so they’ll need us for reinforcements.”
In the muggy heat of a Cairo street, Amy shivered with cold dread.
They could be in the thick of battle within weeks.
Chapter 4
Amy spent a quiet Christmas in camp with the other nurses as both Guy and Mark were out in the desert, training with their battalion.
“It isn’t fair. Just because a few troops misbehaved, everyone has received extra duty,” Millie complained, as they sat outside their quarters fanning themselves with folded newspapers. “Dick said it took weeks for him to get a proper tent. He shared a hole in the ground with two others, and they had to cover it with an old piece of canvas.”
“Well, at least he’ll have his Red Cross parcel and a nice Christmas card,” Amy consoled, brushing away the hordes of flies swarming around her eyes and mouth.
“Let’s hope the troops fared better than us. A lousy tin of cocoa, a tin of milk, some Havelock tobacco,” Millie rattled the items off scornfully.
“You forgot the fruitcake, and what about the six packets of Capstan cigarettes?”
“We don’t even smoke. How can you be so cheerful, Amy?”
“It is hard sometimes.” Amy giggled. “Did you hear the orderlies talking about some French dance? The Can-Can I think they called it. I blushed just listening.”
“Dick didn’t mention anything about it, but he’s only got a couple of leaves since arriving here. Because a few of the troops are morally weak, haunting those terrible places,” Millie went on furiously, “all the men have to suffer.”
“Cheer up. Perhaps you can see him for New Year. If Guy and Mark get leave, we could all go to a New Year’s Eve party in Cairo.”
“Dick’s only a lieutenant.”
“Why should it matter? Say, Mill, did you really like those turquoise goblets I picked up in the suqs?”
“Yes, they’re beautiful. I wish you could remember which bazaar you went to. I could get another six and make up a full dozen.”
****
An urgent summons from their Matron, Miss Steadman, interrupted Amy and Millie as they rested in their quarters. Hurriedly dressing, they rushed over to the hospital.
“Sorry to call you in so early, ladies, but things are chaotic at the moment. I’ve been ordered to muster as many of you as I can find before the ambulances arrive. The stupidity of it all!” Matron paced her office, taking short mincing steps. “Marching troops in full winter battle dress for thirty miles in this heat. Soldiers are strung out for miles over the desert, collapsed where they stood, some of the poor devils. If the New Zealanders hadn’t come out on horseback and with camels to bring in the worst cases, dozens would be dead. I’ve never seen Major Vincent so angry. He wants a Military Court of Enquiry, and mark my words, heads will roll.”
On arrival at the hospital Amy gasped at the shocking sights and smells that met her in the overflowing wards. Dozens of soldiers lay on stretchers in the passageways. Boys with burned and blistered faces crammed every ward. Dry foam coated their lips, their uniforms bleached hard and white by sweat and sand. She wanted to cry but couldn’t allow herself the luxury. There was just too much to do.
Working without a break she sponged down fevered bodies and applied cooling salve to burnt skin. One boy in particular, a redhead, was so badly burned he looked as if he had fallen into a fire. She held a cup of water to his lips and he gulped it down. “Here, not too quickly, or you’ll make yourself ill.”
“It was awful, Sister. I nearly died. If Captain Tremayne hadn’t rigged up a shelter for some of us, we’d have been goners.”
Amy fought to still her trembling hands. Was Mark all right? And what of Guy? Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she had to put the welfare of her patient ahead of her own fear and worry.
“Don’t talk. You’re safe now,” she soothed, stroking back a damp tendril of ginger hair.
“Your hands feel so lovely and cool,” he mumbled.
“Are Captains Tremayne and Webster all right?” She tried not to sound frantic.
“I think so. Mo
st of the officers were on horseback.”
“Rest now. You’ll feel better in a little while.” She held his hand between her own, drawing comfort from his courage.
“Sister Smithfield.” She swung around when Ella spoke, jerking her head back under the acid bite of the Senior Sister’s tongue. “There are other patients needing attention as well.”
“All right, I’m coming.” She rubbed her forehead wearily. In the stifling heat, the high white collar and cuffs chafed, starched to Ella’s exacting standard, and she could feel the material of her ward dress clinging damply to her back. Damn stupid uniforms.
The stories all sounded the same: soldiers forced to march in full kit while officers barked orders from horseback. How could breaking men’s spirits and bodies toughen them up for battle? Anxiously she asked those patients able to speak whether they knew anything about Guy or Mark.
One young soldier told her how he fell over several times until finally he could not rise at all. Guy had mounted him on his own horse and they rode double.
“Captain Tremayne saved dozens of men,” said a swarthy sergeant who came in with a large batch of patients.
She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice and hide the agony of not knowing whether he was safe. “Is he back yet?”
“I think so, Sister. The Captain rigged up shelter for the worst cases until the New Zealanders came out for them. Two boys were in a real bad way. He put them both on his own horse and led it, then commandeered mounts from some of the other officers who didn’t volunteer theirs. He was one of only a few officers who came out of this episode in a good light.”
“What about Captain Webster?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about him.”
“Sister.” Major Vincent bustled over. “There’s someone asking for you outside. Five minutes, and then I’ll need you back here again.” He wiped his red, perspiring face on his sleeve.
She hurried outside and saw a dusty, sweat-stained Mark slumped against a wall. Oh, thank you, God, for keeping him safe. Relief swept over her, and she swallowed down a sob of gratitude.
Dashing up to him, she skidded to a halt when a couple of feet separated them. “Are you all right?”
A Rose in No-Man's Land Page 5