The Poppy Field

by Deborah Carr

  “That’s true,” Mary whispered. “But you can receive letters from your cousin.”

  Alice looked at her wondering if Mary had lost her mind. “But I don’t have one. At least, not a male one.”

  Mary took Alice by the shoulders. “I know that, but no one else does. He said he’ll find a way. Also, that if he mentions someone called Stuart in his letters, then that’s him sending a personal message to you.”

  Alice stared at her friend in stunned surprise. She should have known Mary would not let her down, nor Ed. How typical of them both to collude in this way.

  “Maybe he’ll write letters as Stuart somebody-or-other,” Mary added, giving Alice a satisfied smile. “You see, there is a way.”

  Relief that she hadn’t lost contact with Ed, coursed through Alice. “Thank you, Mary,” she said, hugging her friend tightly. “You’re a good friend. I should have known you’d come up with an idea.”

  “He was the one who addressed me about it,” she confided. Alice could see Mary was impressed with Ed. The thought that the two of them had become friendly made her happy. “He insisted I should tell you he’d find a way. He was desperate not to lose you.” Mary beamed. “Those were his words, not mine. He’s in love with you, Alice. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Alice had hoped it was the case. “I hadn’t wanted to presume,” she admitted. It was a joy to discover that the man she had fallen in love with, reciprocated her feelings and was happy to admit them to her friend.

  Not wishing to be caught slacking, Alice began tidying the messy counter. Her mood dropped as a dreadful thought occurred to her. “He can’t, Mary,” she whispered.

  “Can’t what?”

  Alice swallowed away the lump in her throat. “His letter. It will have to come from him. How can he post a letter from a fictional man? He’s in the Army, he’d never manage it.”

  Alice felt sorry for Mary watching as her cheerful expression vanished.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry Alice,” she said covering her mouth with her left hand. “I truly thought it was a clever plan.”

  “It’s fine,” Alice lied. “I’m grateful to you for trying. Never mind.”

  But it did matter. It mattered very much. Pretending to carry on with what she was doing, Alice turned her back on Mary so that her friend wouldn’t witness her heartbreak.

  The door flew open and crashed noisily against the wooden wall of the hut. The women shrieked in shock.

  “For pity’s sake,” Mary shouted at the white-faced probationer. “What do you think you’re doing barging in here like that? You could have given us apoplexy.”

  “Sorry Nurse,” the younger woman said, her cheeks reddening.

  “Well?” Alice asked, relieved for something to take her mind off her misery. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she said, not looking at Mary, who Alice could see from the corner of her eyes was glaring at the girl. “Matron said we need all those on duty to come to her office, at once. That was five minutes ago.”

  “Goodness,” Mary said, “Leave this lot, we can fetch it later.”

  The three of them hurried to Matron’s office.

  “Look,” Alice grabbed Mary’s right wrist outside the office door as they slowed to a walk. “Over there.” She pointed at a large tent being erected in a nearby field.

  “It looks like they’re setting up another ward,” Mary said. “Come along, we’d better get a move on.”

  “I hate this war,” Alice said, her voice cracking in emotion. “There’s far too much death. I don’t know how much more of it I can stand.”

  Mary put her arm around Alice’s shoulder. “I know. It’s beyond anything I could have imagined, too. My aunt wrote just yesterday telling me that almost a quarter of the men who joined up, or were conscripted, have fallen. Their poor families will never recover.”

  Both women smoothed down their skirts and checked their caps were straight before knocking on Matron’s office door.

  “Enter.” Matron shouted.

  Alice put her hand up to turn the door knob, when another nurse inside opened the door and pulled her in.

  “Come inside and close the door,” Matron snapped. “Where have you two been? We’ve been waiting,” she lifted her watch to calculate how long. “Six minutes.”

  Alice led the way into the packed office. She looked around at the other faces, trying to work out what they were all doing in there.

  “Sorry, Matron,” Alice and Mary said, in unison.

  Matron glared at them. As soon as they were standing behind the other assembled nurses, she began, “Now that we’re all here, I can tell you that there’s been a big push. We have a substantial number of casualties being brought down the line to us. I need everyone to be prepared. Do as much as you can for the current patients, naturally. However, be aware that we will be kept busy overnight with the men on their way to us now.”

  “Yes, Matron,” they said in unison.

  “I’m advised that there’s a badly burnt pilot among them.” She looked at Mary and Alice. “You two nurses have more experience than most of the volunteers here. I want you to assist Sister Brown with his care. He’s in a bad way.” She took a deep breath. “I want a report as soon as Sister has settled him in the ward.”

  “Yes, Matron.”

  Matron went on to give further instruction to the other nurses and volunteers assembled in her office. Alice couldn’t help worrying that her lack of knowledge, was going to be an issue. She reminded herself that Sister Brown might be a tyrant to those under her, but to the patients she was an angel, albeit a formidable one and would give them any necessary instructions.

  They knew not to try and remove any part of the sedated pilot’s uniform in contact with his skin. Silently, Alice and Mary concentrated as they took off the outer layers under Sister Brown’s watchful eye and settled him in a bed.

  “There’s no spare room in any of the wards. I want a screen kept around him at all times.” She handed Mary a clipboard with his report sheet on it. “This is a good opportunity for the pair of you to show your mettle,” she said. “Now, what do you see?”

  “Apart from burns to his face and hands,” Alice said, as Mary wrote up their report. “Both his femurs and left tibia appear to be broken, as well as his left forearm.”

  Doctor Sullivan walked in, closely followed by one of the other doctors.

  “How is he, Sister?” the doctor asked.

  “We’re doing all we can to make him comfortable.”

  They waited silently while the doctors examined the man, who Alice was saddened to discover was only just twenty-one. She could see that the airman’s chances were slim.

  The doctors discussed their thoughts quietly to one side. Eventually, Doctor Sullivan said, “We’ll aim to operate in the morning. We need to stabilise him as much as possible, Sister.” He looked from Alice to Mary. “I need him to be watched around the clock until further notice.”

  “Of course, Doctor,” Matron said.

  The doctors left, and Matron said, “Nurse Le Breton, go and find an orderly. Tell him we need a frame to cover this man’s body. I don’t want sheets touching his damaged skin.”

  “Yes, Sister,” Alice said, relieved to be able to do something constructive.

  Chapter 16

  Gemma

  2018

  Sitting outside the front door on an upturned bucket, Gemma slammed the letter onto her knee, wincing as it tore on one side. She couldn’t bear reading that Alice had returned to the casualty clearing station after Ed had been sent back to the Front. She could only imagine Alice’s shock discovering he wasn’t there.

  Did she and Ed ever manage to meet up again, she wondered? “They have to find a way,” she groaned, wishing Tom wasn’t busy in the barn. She hated to disturb him but was tempted to go and share her concerns with him about this couple who had grown to mean so much to her. Unable to help herself, she read on. “Poor man.” Gemm
a said, transfixed by the latest note on the back of the letter.

  “You okay?” Tom asked, alerting her to his arrival. His eyes narrowed in concern. He noticed the letter and nodded. “Ah, Alice’s letters. What’s happened now?”

  Gemma sighed. “She only made it back to the CCS after Ed had been discharged. Do you think they ever saw each other again?”

  “I hope they did,” Tom said, looking as saddened by the news as she had been.

  “There was a young pilot, who was admitted.” She sniffed. “Oh, Tom, it’s horrible. The unfortunate man was badly burnt when his plane was shot down.” She thought of how basic the burn treatment must have been one hundred years before. “How on earth did they look after men in that condition back then?”

  Tom shuddered. “I hate to think.” He walked up to her and placed a soothing hand on her right shoulder. “They didn’t have the luxury of antibiotics either, did they? I’ve read that they achieved some incredible work reconstructing soldiers’ faces, but that was mainly for shrapnel or bullet wounds.” He shook his head. “I’ve no idea about burn victims.”

  “Nor me. I’ll have to investigate a bit about it, when I have access to the Internet.”

  “I’d rather not know,” Tom shivered. He stared at the letter. “Did he survive?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she said, carefully folding the thin paper and sliding it inside the yellowed envelope. “I hope so.” She stood up and stretched. “Did you want me for something?”

  “No rush. I just thought you might have some ideas about where you want the electric points and lights in the attic space above the barn area.”

  Gemma had not thought about it and admitted as much. “I haven’t given it a thought,” she said, feeling ridiculous. “Is it big enough to fit a couple of rooms?”

  He looked surprised.

  “What?”

  “You haven’t seen it?”

  “No, when would I have gone up there?”

  Tom took the envelope from Gemma’s hand and put it inside on the dining room table. “Sorry, I assumed you must have done at some point. Right, you’re coming with me.”

  Gemma took his hand. It was only when his step faltered that she realised she’d been talking about war wounds again and she hoped she hadn’t upset Tom. She went to pull her hand away, but Tom tightened his hold and pulled her along through the house to the back yard.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he smiled, misunderstanding her reluctance to go with him. “You can’t make a decision about the electrics if you haven’t seen the place.” He stopped and pointed up at the roof of the barn.

  “Do you see that tiny window?” He asked, and Gemma nodded. “I’m going to show you a fantastic view. When you see it, I’m sure you’ll agree that the area can be made into a large party room, or flatlet, or something else. With a couple of large sky lights in the roof, the space up there will be airy and bright.”

  Gemma liked the sound of his ideas. She couldn’t hide her excitement and ran towards the stepladder. “Is it safe to go up?”

  “Yes, perfectly safe. I put that ladder against the first floor earlier.

  “No wonder I’ve never thought to go up there, if this is the only access.”

  Tom took his hand from hers and smiled. “Go on, I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

  She groaned and climbed up the stepladder taking each step tentatively. Her stomach contracted in fear as she stepped higher.

  “I hate heights,” Gemma admitted. “I’m not sure this is going to be worth my efforts.”

  “It will, I promise you,” Tom assured her. “I’ve left a torch up there; can you see it?”

  “Yes,” Gemma said, gritting her teeth and wishing she had never agreed to this. She grabbed hold of the sides of the opening on the floor above and carefully stepped forward. “How am I going to get down?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I’ll help you,” Tom said, his head appearing in the opening of the floor behind her. “Never mind about that now.” He stood up next to her. “Here, take my hand again,” Tom said, picking up the torch. “I’ve laid plywood on the beams, so you don’t have to worry about where you’re walking. Come on, this way.”

  Focusing on the distraction of her hand held tightly in his, Gemma did as he asked.

  “Right, through here.” Tom said, and Gemma let him pull her along, following the beam of light coming from the torch in his hand. “Oh, I see it,” she said, spotting the shaft of sunlight glinting through the tiny window in the roof.

  They reached the tiny window and Tom stepped back to let Gemma have a look. “It’s not as clean as it could be, but you should get an idea of the view across the fields.”

  Gemma pressed her hands on each side of the window and standing on tiptoes peered out of the grimy window. He was right, the view across the poppy field was stunning. “I can see the fields and a wood beyond that,” she said, awed at Tom’s discovery. “It’s glorious.”

  “I’m glad you agree,” he said; and Gemma could tell he was smiling as he spoke. “Obviously, it depends on how much you have left to spend on this place after all the main renovations have been made. However, if you don’t make the changes up here, you could always point them out to a buyer when the time comes to sell the farm.”

  Gemma felt another pang at the thought of leaving the farm. She wondered if her growing attachment could have anything to do with her growing attraction to Tom. She turned to face him, unable to hide the delight on her face. “That really is a brilliant discovery of yours,” she said smiling up at his tanned face lit by the shard of sunlight. “Thank you.”

  They stared at each other silently for a moment. It was as if nothing else mattered as she stared into his navy-blue eyes. They seemed to bore into her soul and for a split second she imagined she was Alice and he was Ed and they did have their happy ever after at the farm.

  Tom was the first to move. He held out an arm waiting for her to step forward. “Come along. I’d better press on if I’m to get everything done before I leave,” he said, shattering her romantic thoughts.

  “Yes, sure,” she said walking forward towards the opening in the floor. She stopped suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to work out how to get down to the ground without falling. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  Tom stood behind her and took her by the shoulders. “Don’t fret,” he said.

  “I’m serious,” she panted, her mouth dry. “I can’t move.”

  He gave her shoulders a light squeeze. “I’ll move past you now and climb a few steps down.”

  Unable to see how that would help, she held her breath as Tom slowly manoeuvred around her. He placed first one foot and then the other on the ladder.

  Stepping down a couple of rungs, he reached out to her. “Take my hand,” he said. “Go on, I promise I won’t let you fall.”

  “I’m very clumsy,” she argued, picturing herself tumbling head first onto the concrete below. “I’m always tripping over things. I know I’ll do the same going down.”

  He stared at her, his hand still outstretched. “I said I won’t let you fall, and I won’t. Now, inch forward,” he said, waiting patiently as she did so. “Good, now, take my hand.”

  Gemma grabbed for his hand and held on tightly. She wasn’t sure if he winced as she clung on, but when he nodded to her she felt slightly reassured.

  “Turn around, so that your back is against me,” he said, his calm assertive voice soothing her fear enough for her to be able to do as he asked. “Well done. Now take a step down, that’s it.” Gemma concentrated on finding the first rung with her foot and then the next.

  Tom slipped his arm around her waist, holding onto the ladder with the other hand. “Okay, now let’s take one rung at a time.”

  She did as he asked, comforted by his tight hold around her waist. His warm body pressed against her back distracted her enough to enable her to make it to the bottom of the ladder and onto the cobbled barn floor.

 
“There,” he said, letting go of her.

  Gemma’s joy at being back on terra firma was lessened by his sudden release of her. She turned to face him, forcing a smile. “Thank you, Tom. I’m sorry to be such a baby about that, but I really am terrified of heights.”

  “No problem at all,” he said, pushing his hands through his hair to push it off his face. “We all have things that frighten us.”

  She couldn’t imagine what his fears might be. If he did have any, he kept them well hidden.

  “I feel such a fool,” she admitted, gazing down at her feet.

  Tom took her face gently in his hands. “You’re not a fool, Gemma,” he whispered.

  She barely had time to register where his hands were before he bent his head and kissed her lightly on her lips. It was so unexpected that she was unsure how to react. He moved back slightly, and she could see he was unsure about whether to continue. Gemma gave him a shaky smile, relieved, when Tom took her in his arms and kissed her so perfectly, her knees seemed to lose their strength and she had to focus on staying upright.

  Gemma slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her mind went blank as she lost herself in the blissful kiss. Sensing someone nearby, she ignored it, relishing the closeness with Tom and the discovery that his expertise at kissing was better than anything she had experienced before.

  There was a deep cough behind her. Tom dropped his hold on her at the same moment Gemma realised it was the plasterer making his presence felt. She swung round, feeling like a naughty teenager being caught snogging her boyfriend late on a school night.

  “Hello?” she said feeling awkward.

  He held up both hands. “Don’t mind me,” he said glancing at Tom. “I thought you said two o’clock, Tom.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry,” Tom said, stepping away from her. “This is Gemma, she’s renovating the farm.” Gemma nodded. “Follow me and I’ll show you what needs doing.” He turned to Gemma. “I’ll catch up with you later?”

  “Yes, fine,” she said, leaving them and walking back to the house. “I’d better get on.”