by Deborah Carr
Alice wasn’t surprised to see that Mary was trembling as she left the tent.
“More padding, Nurse Le Breton,” he said. “I suspect that there’s no alternative but to give her a full hysterectomy.”
“Yes, doctor.”
He examined the unconscious nurse. “As I thought,” he said shaking his head sadly. “She’s damaged herself badly. It’s the only way we’re going to have any chance to stop the haemorrhaging. We’re going to lose her if I don’t hurry.”
She assisted with the anaesthetic. Although Alice doubted the woman would be waking during the operation, going by the amount of blood loss she’d seen in the brief time she’d been there. Enthralled by the surgeon’s skill, Alice wondered if the gentleness he used during surgeries was ever allowed to show with his patients, or anyone else. She watched as he concentrated on the task in hand. Instructing her about what instrument to pass to him, and when.
Almost two hours later, he finished closing the long incision across the girl’s pale stomach. Wiping the back of his hand across his brow, he closed his eyes. Alice could see he was utterly exhausted.
He pulled off his cap. “I think we’ll set her up in the recovery room next door. I want a sign on the tent flap stating, ‘No unauthorised entry’. We don’t want rumours spread.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” Alice asked, her eyes pricking with tears as she gazed at the sedated nurse. “Does she have any family to take her in?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. Matron is planning to send her on the next available boat to Blighty.” Alice opened her mouth to speak. “She’ll be accompanying a couple of other nurses who were wounded in a bombing raid last week. No one need know the true cause of her surgery.”
Alice was relieved.
“We’ll move her to the next room ourselves. I’ll need you to sit with her and I’ll go and inform Matron how everything has gone.”
The following lunchtime, while the nursing staff were ensuring the patients ate their lunch, Alice accompanied the nurse in the ambulance to the nearest hospital. No one else had been told of the reason for her departure, apart from Mary. Alice arrived back at the station just before midnight, exhausted and drained.
She went straight to her tent, washed and slipped into her nightie. She tried to sleep, but an hour later lay wide-eyed and tearful. She blew her nose, unable to shake off the experience in the theatre.
“I thought so,” Mary said, pulling back the tent flap quietly and stepping inside carrying a steaming cup of tea for Alice. “I know you well.” She waited for Alice to sit up and handed her the cup. “Drink that, it’ll help you sleep.”
Alice hoped so. She took a mouthful, spluttering when she tasted it. “That’s vile,” she grimaced.
“Is that all the thanks I get for trying to help you?” Mary smiled, pointing to the cup in Alice’s hand. “Good brandy that is, I had some last night and it helped me.”
Alice grabbed her friend’s hand. “It must have been a dreadful shock finding her like that?”
“It was, but I’m trying not to think about it,” Mary said as Alice sipped her drink.
“Where did you find it?” she asked taking the last mouthful and shuddering as the burning sensation from the alcohol coursed down her throat.
“Matron.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “Matron?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, it was her idea.” She shrugged. “Who knew Matron would have a stock of brandy in her tent?”
Alice doubted there could be much left, but giving in to the warm feeling flowing through her, she was grateful for Matron’s ministrations. She handed the cup back to Mary. “Put it on my trunk, will you?”
“That’s right. You get some sleep. It’s been rather a tricky day, in one way or another.”
She closed her eyes. “I’ve always respected Doctor Sullivan, Mary,” she said yawning. “But today I saw a different, more passionate side to him. He really is a good man, under that severe tone of his.”
Chapter 6
Gemma
2018
The knocking at the front door woke Gemma with a start. It took a moment for her to gather where she was. Standing up so quickly that she gave herself a headrush, she walked over to the front door. Irritated to have been woken so abruptly, she opened the door, scowling.
“Yes?”
“You’re okay,” Tom said, stating the obvious Gemma thought.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m sorry, you’re usually up and about much earlier than this,” he explained, his hands pushed deep into his jeans pockets. “I worried something might be wrong.”
Mollified by his concern, she waved him inside. She realised she must look a fright and surreptitiously pushed her fingers through her curly hair to try and tidy it a bit. “Coffee?” she asked, stifling a yawn.
“Someone didn’t get much sleep last night,” Tom teased, as he glanced at the table top, where two of Alice’s letters lay opened on top of their respective envelopes. “Been reading into the small hours, I see.”
“Yes,” she said, wishing she hadn’t overslept. She hated to think what she must look like. “You’re here rather early, aren’t you?”
Tom shook his head. “If you call five-past-eight early, then I suppose I am.”
Gemma stopped on her way to the kitchen and spun round. “Really? That late? Sorry, I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought. You woke me from a deep sleep.”
Tom tilted his head and pulled a face. “So, I gather, from the amount of banging on the door I had to do before you surfaced.”
“Sorry, did you want coffee?” she asked, without waiting for an answer before going into the kitchen and lifting the kettle to check how much water was inside.
“Thank you, yes,” he said. He walked up to the kitchen doorway. “Do you want me to go and fetch you some breakfast? Or, if you’d rather, I can treat you to some food in the village.”
Gemma stopped unscrewing the lid of the coffee jar and turned to look at him. She weighed up his offers of food. “Both ideas are very welcome.” She considered what she should do. “I think, no, I need to stay here and press on with everything. Can I give you some euros to buy the breakfast, then I won’t feel so bad if you go for it?”
“No, it’s my treat. I can be back here before that kettle finishes boiling.”
She doubted it but nodded. “Thanks, Tom. You’re a star.”
She waited for him to leave before running upstairs to shower and brush her hair. Pulling on her dungarees over a long-sleeved tee-shirt and thin jumper, she tied her hair up in a ponytail, ready to go down and make their drinks.
The tyres on Tom’s pick-up crunched over small stones alerting her to his return just as she reached the bottom step.
He walked in just as she reached the kitchen. “Shall I get the plates?” he asked, grinning at her as she spooned coffee into the mugs. Tom washed his hands before placing six pastries onto a large plate and carrying them out to the living room with two smaller plates.
The smell of freshly baked pastries, confectioner’s custard and melting chocolate made Gemma’s stomach grumble noisily.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like best, so bought a selection,” he said. “Tuck in. There’s enough for us to have some for elevenses later.”
“Elevenses?” Gemma pulled the plate towards her with a wide grin on her face. “Who even says that anymore?” she asked, liking how it sounded.
“I do. Now hurry up and choose, I’m hungry, too.”
She picked up a pain au chocolat and breathed in the sweet smell, taking a bite before lowering it to her plate. “Mmm, heaven.”
He laughed. “My turn, now,” he said placing his left index finger against his lips and pretending to contemplate which one he should eat first.
Gemma couldn’t help giggling. She thanked her lucky stars, or whatever it was that had brought her and Tom to the hardware store at the same time. “Thanks, Tom,” she said before
taking another mouthful.
“My pleasure,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled. “I always think people work better with a full stomach. A growling belly can be most distracting when you’re trying to concentrate.”
“I presume you’re thinking about your own,” she teased, aware that it had been her stomach that had been making all the noise before she had eaten something.
He took a bite from the pastry in his hand and smiled at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling in amusement.
“I like having you around?” she said, not meaning to voice her thoughts.
“Err, you do?” His smile vanished, and he stopped chewing for a couple of seconds.
She hadn’t meant to take him off guard. “Yes,” she said, determined to try and rectify her faux pas. “You’re fun to be with.”
“I am?” He thought for a few seconds and shook his head, looking rather bemused.
They ate in silence for a while, each avoiding looking at the other.
Eventually Tom broke the awkward silence. “I can picture how incredible the farmhouse and outbuildings will look, once the work is done,” he said. “I was wondering what you intend doing with the field at the top of the yard? It seems a waste not to use it for something.”
Gemma had been thinking the same thing only the day before. “I agree, but I can’t decide what. Do you have any ideas?”
He thought for a moment, before replying. “You could lease it out to a local farmer. You’d only get a peppercorn rent, but it’d be something. Mind you,” he said frowning. “It would have to be a short lease, if you’re selling the place.”
“I thought I could grow something there, maybe.” She pictured a meadow filled with wild flowers, birds circling overhead and bees dipping from one flower to the next. “Wildflowers, if there isn’t time to grow anything I could eat.”
“It’s a pleasant idea,” he said, “but you probably won’t be here to see the results.”
He had a point.
They finished eating and Gemma, having checked that Tom had eaten enough, took two remaining pain au raisin to the kitchen. She put them back into the paper bag ready for them to have as a snack midway through the morning.
“What do you want to focus on today?” Tom asked, as they washed their sticky hands at the kitchen sink.
She dried her hands and pushed her feet into her boots as she dragged on her coat. Waiting for him to do the same, she tried to think what work was most urgent
They were going to the back yard through the kitchen door, when Tom said, “We’ve done all the basics for the house and I’ve checked most of the work on the outbuildings.”
“I’m not sure whether to do anything with the barn,” she admitted “Or the two small connecting buildings. “You know how people around here like to live. Can you tell me if you think it’s worth spending money on that part of the farm?”
He looked out of the window at the area in question and thought. “If your market is to families, then I’d make one of the small buildings an office, the other could be a workshop, and,” he hesitated. “You could paint the barn walls, at least. Clean up the floor so that it could be used for summer parties, birthday meals, that sort of thing.”
Gemma had been thinking more about making the outbuildings into one or two small gîtes. She preferred his suggestion to keep it simple. “I like that idea,” she said picturing a family with several children, their parents and grandparents, sitting on mis-matched chairs either side of a long rustic table. The table laid with an eclectic mixture of plates and glasses, with jam jars used to hold small posies of wild flowers. Adults laughing, while children nudged each other and giggled at silly jokes.
“Hello?”
She realised Tom was speaking to her. “Sorry,” Gemma said shaking her head and clearing the vision from her thoughts so that she was back to the cold March morning staring at a dismal, dusty barn, old oil cans and oil stains on the cement floor covered with broken branches and leaves.
“I was in a world of my own.”
“I could see that.” Tom smiled at her. “Nice, was it?”
“Beautiful,” she said, wistfully.
She realised for the first time that she’d moved on from her lifelong ambition to be the best nurse she was capable of being. Now, without being aware of its passing, she had a new dream. One filled with her own children, a gorgeous husband with whom she could share them, and a farm filled with rescue dogs, cats and maybe the odd alpaca or two. “It was perfect.”
“Care to share it with me?”
Gemma stared at him for a moment. Tom was more than a contractor, he had become her only friend in France. “I’ve worked so hard with my nursing ambitions,” she said. “But I don’t think I can go back to that life now.”
“Don’t you?”
She shook her head. “Although living here hasn’t exactly been the cosy home I’d one day like to own, it has shown me that I don’t want to live in a city again. Not for a long time, anyway. I like living on the edge of a village.”
“I can understand that,” he said. “Living in a place like this you have the choice to mix with people if you feel a bit lonely, yet you can stay in, or go for a walk in the countryside if you want space.”
Gemma smiled. “That’s it exactly.” She couldn’t help wondering if this was behind Tom’s reasoning for setting up his new life in France after being invalided from the Army. “I do like it here.”
“You wait until spring arrives and the days become longer and warmer. It’s magical. I love being here then and wouldn’t swap it for anything.”
Without thinking, she glanced at his leg. Then, aware she had done so, Gemma quickly averted her eyes to the barn pretending that she was contemplating what to do with the place.
“It’s alright,” Tom said, touching her arm lightly making her skin tingle. “I’m used to it, I don’t mind.”
Assuming he meant his leg, she looked back at him. “You’re so brave,” she said, looking down at her feet. “I have a meltdown because of my job. Your life changes forever, but you carry on.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Look at me Gemma,” he said. She did as he asked, too ashamed not to. “I’m not as brave as you think. I crumbled when I first discovered what had happened to me and my friends. I was a mess. It was nurses like you who helped me come to terms with how my life needed to change.”
“Not nurses like me.”
“Yes, exactly like you,” he argued. “They weren’t repulsed by my injuries. If they were they never showed it. They did their job. They jollied me along and encouraged me to see my fiancée and family, when all I wanted to do was hide from the world.”
His fiancée? She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. “You’re engaged?” she asked, not wishing to hear the answer if it was the one she was dreading.
“Not anymore,” he said, kicking a stone lightly with his foot.
“Why not?” Gemma asked, immediately aware how rude and intrusive her question must have sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did.”
He shrugged. “No, it’s fine. Amber called it off about five months after I’d been injured.”
Gemma was furious on his behalf. “How could she do such a dreadful thing?”
He shook his head and began walking towards the barn. “No, it wasn’t her fault.”
“Well, it wasn’t yours,” she retaliated, following him.
Tom stopped and turned to face her. “You don’t understand. I was different back then.”
“That’s hardly surprising,” she said, wondering why he was determined to defend someone who had let him down at the worst time in his life. “You had a lot to contend with. The least she could do is support you through it.”
Tom rubbed his eyes. “Really, she did try.”
Gemma watched his face, saddened by how difficult it was for him. Still, she didn’t think there was any excuse for his ex to leave him just when he must have felt he had lost eve
rything else that mattered. “Not hard enough, in my opinion.”
Tom glared at her. “You don’t know her, Gemma. You didn’t know me, back then. Amber is a good person.” A shadow of sadness crossed his face as he hesitated. “I know she loved me.”
“I’m sure she did.” Who wouldn’t, she thought, wishing she had been the one to care for him back then.
He frowned briefly. “I didn’t feel that I could be the person she wanted anymore. If I’m honest, I think I wanted her to leave me.”
“Why?” she asked, aware of his answer as soon as her question had crossed her lips.
He shrugged. “It was difficult enough coming to terms with how much I’d changed physically, without feeling guilty about my part in her dreams vanishing. It wasn’t fair to let her stay with me, she deserved more.” He turned away from her.
Stung by his defensiveness of his ex, Gemma had to concentrate on not letting her emotions run away with her. He always came across as being capable and strong, but the Tom she was seeing now seemed vulnerable. She wanted to hug him, not fight with him. Not caring if she was being inappropriate, Gemma stepped forward and standing behind him, flung her arms around him. He stiffened, but she didn’t let go.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just hate to think of you being alone at such a dreadful time.”
She felt his body relax. Slowly he turned. Slipping his arms around her, he reciprocated her hug. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice soothing. “I know you were only trying to be a friend. Amber is a good person though. I can’t hold it against her that she made a brave choice for both of us. I see that now.”
Friend. Gemma’s heart sank. She breathed in his freshly laundered sweatshirt and the soapy scent of his neck. It dawned on her that she would prefer him to be rather more than just a friend.
“Gemma,” Tom whispered into her hair. “I appreciate your concern, but I really should be getting on with my work. I have another job I need to go to by the end of the week.”
Shocked to still be hugging him, Gemma let her arms drop away from him. “What job? You didn’t say?”
He smiled at her. “I didn’t know until this morning. It’s for the client who was away,” he said. “The one I put off to come here and help you with your urgent work. Remember?”