Poppy in the Field

by Mary Hooper

  ‘You’ve come back, then, Pearson?’ Matron said drily. ‘You’ve been away so long, I rather thought you’d gone Absent Without Leave.’

  ‘Certainly not, Matron. It’s just that the trains were very unreliable.’

  Two pairs of eyes looked at her keenly.

  ‘And how did your task go?’ Matron asked.

  Poppy hesitated. They would already know that Patient X had died before she and Michael had got there, but how much else did they know? How much did they need to know? ‘As I’m sure you will have heard, the patient died,’ she said. ‘We were . . . I was . . . terribly sorry. I didn’t even see him.’

  ‘And what happened after that?’ Matron asked. ‘Did you come straight back to the hospital as you were instructed? As you know, your paperwork only gave you permission to be away for one particular and important job.’

  Poppy could feel colour coming to her cheeks. ‘We were about to leave, Matron, when I was asked to do something by one of the clearing station doctors.’

  ‘Do you always do what doctors ask you?’ Sister Sherwood put in.

  Poppy said yes, then, fearing that must be a trick question, changed it to no.

  ‘Then what happened?’ Matron asked.

  ‘After that, knowing we – that is, Doctor Archer and I – had missed our train, we walked towards the sidings hoping to pick up another.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And . . .’ Poppy hesitated and thought of the way she’d tripped up, how she’d fallen into his arms, the way they’d kissed . . .

  ‘Well?’ Sister Sherwood asked sharply.

  ‘The train we’d hoped to get never arrived, and we didn’t manage to catch one back to Boulogne until early this morning.’

  ‘And that was all that happened, was it?’ Sister Sherwood asked. She looked over her spectacles at Matron. ‘As I said, when I was in charge of Ward 5, I’m afraid I had cause to speak severely to this young woman on several occasions.’ Her voice dropped. ‘She made a habit of being overfamiliar with the patients even then.’

  ‘I certainly did not!’ Poppy said hotly.

  ‘No?’ said Sister. ‘And I suppose you’ll deny, too, that it was you asleep in the bunker at the sidings in Albert last night, sprawled on some sacks with a man like . . . like a common prostitute?’

  Poppy gasped. That was why Sister Shrew was here – she’d been on that train, seen her and come to report her to Matron.

  ‘Yes, miss, you may well gasp,’ said Sister. ‘And if I saw you, how many others did? You were visible, bold as brass, to everyone on that train who cared to glance from the window.’

  ‘Is this true, Pearson?’ Matron asked.

  Poppy felt anger burning inside her. ‘I was not sprawled!’ she said fiercely. ‘I beg your pardon, Matron, but I couldn’t help it if I fell asleep. It had been a very long and upsetting day.’

  ‘Such lax morals!’ Sister Sherwood snapped. ‘Girls like you bring the whole nursing profession into disrepute.’

  ‘You are well aware of the rules, Pearson,’ Matron said. ‘You know how important it is that British nurses behave with decorum, especially when they are abroad and representing their country.’

  ‘You stayed out overnight with a man,’ interrupted Sister Sherwood in an icy, precise tone. ‘What on earth will those who saw you from the train be thinking about the nursing profession now?’

  Poppy bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She wanted to stamp her foot, thump on the table, demand that they see how unfair they were being, but she feared the consequences if she did such things.

  ‘I’m afraid this young woman is beyond redemption,’ said Sister.

  Matron nodded. ‘Occasionally we do have trouble with VADs and a girl is sent back to England in disgrace,’ she said, while Sister Sherwood sat there, a look of satisfaction on her face. ‘In these cases I usually allow a girl to work until the end of the month, but your behaviour has been so wanton, your morals so low, that I’m afraid you must receive a dishonourable discharge and leave the hospital – and France – immediately.’

  ‘No!’ Poppy gasped.

  ‘Matron has already seen Sister Gradley and acquainted her with the situation,’ said Sister Sherwood. She nodded sagely at Matron. ‘Lack of moral fibre is contagious. It spreads among the young like a rash.’

  They began to discuss which ship Poppy should go home on, while she stood in a fog of dismay, utterly horrified. Choosing to go home and care for her sick mother was one thing, but a dishonourable discharge quite another. With that on her record, she knew she’d never be allowed to nurse again.

  Just then, outside the office, Poppy could hear a man speaking to Matron’s clerk. A moment later, Michael Archer was shown into the room.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Matron,’ the clerk said, ‘but Doctor Archer insists he has something urgent to say to you.’

  Poppy, her throat aching with unshed tears, didn’t look in Michael’s direction. Why had he come? She couldn’t bear the thought of being humiliated in front of him.

  ‘Your appearance is quite irregular, Doctor Archer,’ Matron said, looking taken aback. ‘The VADs in this hospital are under my care and control.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Michael Archer agreed. ‘But after speaking to Sister Gradley and discovering that Miss Pearson was in some kind of trouble, I felt I ought to come and say a word or two in her defence.’

  Matron pursed her lips. ‘I’m afraid Pearson has behaved quite disgracefully by staying out with you overnight,’ she said. ‘The rules regarding the behaviour of doctors are quite different from the rules for VADs. Even so, I’m surprised that you behaved so irresponsibly. This girl’s reputation is ruined.’

  ‘She is dismissed forthwith and will not be permitted to work in any part of the medical service ever again, home or abroad,’ said Sister Sherwood.

  ‘But that’s just not fair!’ Poppy cried.

  ‘It may not be fair, but it’s what happens when a VAD decides to spend the night with a total stranger,’ came the retort from Sister.

  ‘But we’re not strangers!’ said Michael.

  The three women in the room turned to stare at him.

  ‘Miss Pearson and I were at Netley together and . . .’ he reached over and took Poppy’s hand, ‘I’ve come to inform you that our relationship is an honest and proper one. We love each other and are engaged to be married. I apologise very sincerely for not being able to get her back here last night, but in view of the circumstances I hope you’ll forgive us.’

  There was a stunned silence and Poppy gave him a small smile. She was absolutely amazed at what he’d said – quite flabbergasted – but knew how important it was that she shouldn’t look as if she was.

  ‘Is this true, Pearson?’ Matron asked.

  Poppy nodded, her mind whirling. ‘I . . . I didn’t know how to tell you, or even whether Doctor Archer would want me to.’

  ‘It’s perfectly true,’ Michael said. ‘We intend to marry on our next leave. We know that wives aren’t allowed to serve abroad if their husbands are already doing so, and after the wedding Miss Pearson will stay in England.’

  ‘Or perhaps Wales,’ Poppy said. ‘My mother is unwell and at present living there with my aunt,’ she added in reply to Matron’s enquiring look.

  ‘I do hope you’ll agree that, apart from this misdemeanour – which I must take some of the responsibility for – Miss Pearson is a loyal and hard-working VAD,’ Michael said.

  Matron nodded slightly.

  ‘And I also hope that you wouldn’t attempt to end her nursing career by appending the words “dishonourable discharge” to her name. In my opinion, Miss Pearson is a born nurse.’

  There was a moment’s silence, then Matron looked at Sister Sherwood.

  ‘I think what we’ve just heard puts a different complexion on things,’ Matron said.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Sister Sherwood rather grudgingly. ‘That is, if you’re quite happy about one of your nurses staying out overnight
with a young man.’

  ‘I would never normally allow such a thing,’ Matron said. ‘However, if that young man is that nurse’s fiancé then . . .’ she spread her hands, ‘in certain circumstances it might be forgiven. In view of this, and the excellent report of Pearson’s work given by Sister Gradley, I think she should be able to leave the Voluntary Aid Detachment on good terms.’

  Michael proffered his hand to Matron, then Sister. ‘Then thank you both for your understanding,’ he said. ‘And may I apologise for robbing you of someone who, I’m sure, is one of your best and most capable nurses.’

  Poppy and Michael left Matron’s office together and walked to the top of the stairs. Here they stopped and stared at each other in a bemused way.

  ‘I feel quite delirious,’ Poppy said. ‘Delirious or hysterical, I’m not sure which. Did you really just tell them that we’re engaged?’

  He frowned. ‘I don’t believe so . . .’

  Poppy’s face paled. ‘You did!’

  He laughed. ‘Of course I did, darling Pearson. I told them that we love each other and that we’re about to get married. Do you mind?’

  ‘Do I mind having to marry you?’ Poppy closed her eyes for a moment with the sheer thrill of it. ‘No, I don’t think I mind at all . . .’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Poppy sat on the edge of her bed in the nurses’ quarters, trying to make sense of things. It was humid and stuffy down in the basement, but she was shivering. Whether this was with fright, with shock, or because she was sitting there wearing only her thin cotton petticoat, she didn’t know.

  Beside her on the bed were the small suitcase borrowed from her mother, some movie magazines, the medical dictionary in which she’d kept the cutting about Freddie de Vere, and her bag of washing things. Also on the bed, in a tidy pile ready to be collected, were her two blue VAD dresses, three starched white aprons bearing red crosses and her outdoor uniform. She was sailing home on the Blue Yonder on the four o’clock tide.

  Two hours had gone by since her interview with Matron and during this time she’d stripped her bed, cleared out her chest of drawers, and written a letter to Sister Gradley thanking her for her good report and saying how much she’d enjoyed working in Ward 5. She’d added a PS: I think it would be too upsetting to say goodbye to the boys, so would you kindly give them my love and say I’ll miss them very much.

  Following that, she’d written a note to Dot and Tilly: I’m downstairs in our quarters. If you can possibly get out for ten minutes at dinner time, there’s something I have to tell you! One of the orderlies had kindly delivered this to the girls’ hospital.

  As Poppy sat there, her head teeming with thoughts, worries and what-ifs, she heard the two American girls on the stairs.

  ‘What’s happened that’s so important she has to tell us in the middle of the day?’ Dot was asking.

  ‘Search me,’ Tilly responded. ‘Maybe she’s been transferred.’

  They found Poppy, still rather overwhelmed by events, sitting quietly on her bed. Both girls stood and stared at her.

  ‘Look at you!’ Tilly said. ‘Didn’t the laundry arrive?’

  ‘You’ll cause a sensation if you go on the wards like that!’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Tilly asked. ‘Where are you going that you’ll need a different uniform?’

  Poppy shook her head slowly. ‘Where I’m going, I won’t need any uniform at all.’

  ‘What?’ both girls exclaimed.

  Poppy pressed her lips together hard to stop them trembling, then took a breath. ‘This is the happiest and worst day of my life!’ she said and burst into tears.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Dot asked. She sat down beside Poppy and put her arm around her shoulders. ‘Pearson!’ she said mock sternly. ‘Do pull yourself together. You’re a British nurse!’

  Poppy shook her head. She wasn’t – that was just it.

  ‘What on earth’s been going on?’ Tilly asked. ‘Do tell.’

  There followed several moments, during which both the American girls patted Poppy on the back, said bracing things and urged her to tell them what the matter was – for goodness’ sake, they only had ten minutes!

  At last, Poppy gave a mighty sniff and blew her nose. ‘Well, you see . . . I stayed out all night last night,’ she said, her bottom lip wobbling.

  ‘Wow!’ breathed Dot.

  ‘Good going,’ said Tilly.

  ‘But I was seen by a sister, who reported me to Matron.’

  The smiles dropped from their faces.

  ‘Ah. Not so good,’ Tilly said. ‘But, if one might ask such a thing, why were you out all night?’

  ‘Yesterday I was sent on a . . . well, a kind of mission,’ Poppy said. ‘I had to go with a doctor to a clearing station and collect an important casualty.’ She looked at them. ‘The thing was, the doctor I was assigned to turned out to be Michael Archer.’

  ‘The plot thickens!’ said Dot.

  ‘Well, let’s hope so,’ said her friend, her eyes shining.

  ‘Unfortunately, the casualty died even before we got there,’ Poppy continued, ‘and then through no fault of our own, Michael and I missed the train, and . . .’

  ‘You don’t have to go into detail,’ Tilly said.

  ‘No, not if you don’t want to,’ agreed Dot a bit reluctantly.

  ‘But what I haven’t told you is that a little while back, my aunt wrote to say that my ma isn’t well and they need me at home, so I knew I’d have to give in my notice and go back to look after her.’ She blew her nose. ‘But then, when I got back to the hospital this morning, Matron sent for me – and was I for it! She thought Michael and I had only just met, and that my conduct had harmed the reputation of British nurses everywhere. And when she said that, Michael –’

  ‘He was up in front of Matron, too?’ Tilly squealed.

  Poppy nodded. ‘Yes, but not because he was in any trouble. He’d gone in to apologise for keeping me out overnight and . . .’ she hesitated and looked at the other two wonderingly, ‘and I still can’t quite believe it, but he told Matron that we’ve known each other for some time, and that we’re in love and going to be married.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Tilly and Dot, looking stunned.

  ‘So you’re going to marry that lovely man?’ Tilly asked after a moment.

  ‘Of course she is!’

  ‘Did he actually propose?’ Tilly asked. ‘Oh my, do tell us! Did he get down on one knee? And is it a diamond?’

  Poppy hesitated. ‘Well, he didn’t actually propose . . . He just called me his fiancée.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I suppose that’s nearly the same thing,’ Tilly said.

  ‘But it would be nice if he’d actually asked for your hand in marriage,’ Dot said rather wistfully.

  Poppy nodded, her mind whirling. Michael loved her – he’d said he loved her, he’d called her his fiancée – but he hadn’t officially proposed marriage.

  ‘But why are you sitting here in your smalls?’ Dot asked suddenly.

  ‘Because I have to give my uniform back,’ Poppy said. ‘The thing is, I’ve got no clothes to wear on the ship home.’

  ‘Then we must find you something of ours,’ said Tilly.

  A few minutes later, Poppy was kitted out in one of Tilly’s skirts, Dot’s woollen jacket and a printed blouse that a girl returning to Blighty had left behind.

  Dot looked at her, considering. ‘You look a little bit of a dog’s dinner . . .’

  ‘But it hardly matters – you’ve got your man,’ said Tilly.

  Both girls flung their arms about her.

  ‘We have to go, sweetie,’ said Dot.

  ‘Give Doctor Michael Archer our very special love,’ said Tilly, ‘and tell him we’re expecting front seats at the wedding . . .’

  Poppy had left the hospital and was heading towards the dockyard when she heard the sound of running footsteps. She turned, immensely relieved, just as Michael caught up with her.

&n
bsp; ‘I didn’t think you were going to make it!’ she said.

  ‘As if I’d let my best girl go back to Blighty without seeing her off,’ Michael said, hugging her.

  ‘Best girl?’ Poppy asked. ‘How many of us are there, then?’

  He made a who knows? gesture with his hands.

  Poppy laughed. ‘Will you come over to England soon?’

  ‘As soon as ever I can.’

  ‘And . . . Well, excuse me for being so forward, but Dot and Tilly asked me in what manner you proposed marriage and I had to say that, actually, you hadn’t officially proposed to me at all.’

  He looked at her, shocked. ‘Pearson! Do you doubt me?’

  ‘No, but –’

  ‘Darling Pearson.’ He put his hand on his heart. ‘I love you more than I can say. Would you do me the great honour of becoming Mrs Archer?’

  ‘Michael . . .’ Poppy faltered.

  ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t got a . . .’ Frowning, he rummaged in his pocket, then said, ‘Ah.’ He pulled out his fob watch, detached its silver key ring and placed it on the third finger of Poppy’s left hand. ‘There – will that do until I make it back to Blighty?’

  ‘I believe it will,’ said Poppy.

  As she put her arm through his, a raggedy cheer was heard and they turned, startled, to see the ‘up patients’ of Ward 5 had gathered on the hospital balcony and were waving and calling encouragement.

  Michael pretended to shake his fist at them. ‘At least if you’re in Blighty I won’t have to share you with a ward full of admirers,’ he said.

  Poppy, laughing, slipped her arm through his, blew the boys on the balcony a kiss, then walked on towards the docks and towards home.

  What Happened Next

  Poppy went straight to Aunt Ruby’s home in Wales then moved her family, including her aunt, back to live in Mayfield. Her mother was treated for melancholia but, once she was back in her own home, with Poppy looking after her, she improved greatly. She was further cheered when she learned that her daughter was going to marry a doctor.