The train was approaching, a rumble in the distance from the mouth of the tunnel. On the platform, people were stirring themselves, ready for its arrival.
Captain Jeffers dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his heel.
‘Well, here we go,’ he said. He sounded almost cheerful.
Grace grabbed his sleeve. ‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘There must be some other way. I could talk to Dr Logan, I’m sure he could do something …’
‘There’s nothing he can do, Nurse. There’s nothing anyone can do.’
The train appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. Before she could stop him, Captain Jeffers had wrenched himself free from Grace’s grasp.
‘Captain Jeffers!’ she called out to him, but he was already striding purposefully towards the edge of the platform, pushing his way through the throng of people.
Grace covered her face with her hands, her whole body tensing as she waited. The train brakes screeched, filling her head with sound …
And then it was all over.
When Grace looked up again, Captain Jeffers was standing alone on the platform’s edge. He was sobbing.
‘I couldn’t do it,’ he cried. ‘Damn it, I really am a coward, aren’t I?’
Grace rushed over to him and pulled him away from the edge of the platform.
‘Listen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘There’s nothing cowardly about wanting to live.’
‘But why?’ He stared at her, his face ravaged with tears. ‘Why should I want to live? It’s not as if I have anything to live for.’
‘That’s not true.’ Grace guided him another few steps from the edge. ‘Surely you have your family.’
He shook his head. ‘My father is ashamed of me. Thinks I’m weak for letting my nerves get the better of me. He told me himself, he would have been happier if I’d died a hero’s death.’
‘No!’ Grace stared at him, shocked.
‘And my fiancée has broken off our engagement. She doesn’t want to be with a coward, either.’
‘Then she doesn’t deserve you,’ Grace said staunchly. ‘You’re a fine man, Captain Jeffers. You can’t help being ill.’
‘But I’m not ill, am I? That’s the point.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘God, I’m just so tired …’
There was another train coming. Grace could feel the rumble beneath her feet. She still had hold of Captain Jeffers’ sleeve, the rough fabric of his hospital uniform gripped between her fingers.
A sudden thought occurred to her.
‘What if you were to get on the train instead?’ she said.
Captain Jeffers stared at her blankly. ‘What?’
‘Get on the train. I’ll tell them I couldn’t find you.’
‘Desert, you mean?’ He straightened up. Even through his tears, Grace could see a trace of affronted pride in his face.
‘Why not? You said yourself you can’t face being sent back to France.’
The train was coming closer. Captain Jeffers stared up the line towards the mouth of the tunnel. ‘But where would I go?’
‘Anywhere you like. Make a new life for yourself. Here.’ Grace rummaged in her purse and pulled out a ten-shilling note. ‘Take this. I know it isn’t much, but if you write to me at the nurses’ home, I’ll send you some more.’
The train appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. Grace could see Captain Jeffers’ expression change. He took a step towards the platform edge, but she held on to him firmly.
‘Please, Captain Jeffers,’ she begged.
He looked down at the money she had pressed into his hand. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked.
‘Because you deserve a life.’
The train came into the station, and Captain Jeffers made his move.
Five minutes later, Grace ascended the flight of steps from the platform. She was still trembling with shock.
‘Grace!’
She looked up to see Dr Logan running across the road towards her, dodging motor cars, heedless of their tooting horns.
She blinked at him in surprise. She wasn’t even aware he knew her first name.
‘Where were you? I’ve been searching everywhere.’
‘I took shelter in the station.’
‘But the all clear sounded ages ago.’
‘We didn’t hear it, did we?’
Grace looked at Captain Jeffers standing just behind her, his face pale and blank.
Dr Logan looked from one to the other of them. His expression was unreadable, but Grace knew his keen brain would be working, trying to fathom out what had gone on.
‘Let’s get back to the hospital,’ he said.
They were all silent on the way back to the Nightingale. Grace tucked her arm into Captain Jeffers’ for support, but he barely registered her beside him. She wondered if he was already regretting his decision.
Miss Parker was relieved to see them all, although she did her best not to show it.
‘And what time do you call this?’ she demanded. ‘Honestly, if I’d known this outing was going to cause so much trouble, I would have had something to say about it! I will not have my ward disrupted in this way, do you understand?’ She glared from Grace to Dr Logan and back again.
It wasn’t until Grace watched the VADs guiding Captain Jeffers back to bed that she realised how very tired she felt. Her whole body ached with it, and all she could think about was getting back to Walford House, crawling into bed and pulling the blankets over her head.
But as she left the ward, Dr Logan said, ‘A moment, if you please, Nurse Duffield?’
Grace followed him reluctantly into his office. He closed the door, then turned to face her.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Now perhaps you’ll tell me what really happened.’
Grace composed her features into what she hoped was a picture of innocence. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Sir.’
‘Oh, come on, Grace, I’m not a fool!’ Dr Logan looked impatient. ‘I saw your faces when you came out of that station. Do you really expect me to believe that you were only taking shelter from the air raid?’
Grace opened her mouth then closed it again. She couldn’t lie to him, no matter how much she tried.
‘He said he wanted to throw himself under a train,’ she said.
Dr Logan didn’t look horrified, or even surprised. He simply nodded.
‘I was afraid of that,’ he muttered. ‘But you talked him out of it?’
Grace thought about it for a moment. Had she? It didn’t seem like it. ‘He couldn’t do it,’ she said. ‘Not when it came to it.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Dr Logan sank down into his chair behind the desk. He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes, a gesture Grace had come to know well. He looked as weary as she felt.
‘He’s afraid of being sent back to France,’ she said.
‘Yes, I know.’
She paused. ‘I told him he should get on the train and go.’
Dr Logan looked up at her sharply. ‘Good Lord! Did you?’
‘I tried to give him money. I thought he deserved a chance to make a life for himself.’
‘You tried to encourage him to desert?’ Robert Logan spoke slowly, his expression grave.
‘Yes, and I’d do it again,’ Grace replied defiantly.
He stared at her. ‘And what did he say to that?’
‘He wouldn’t go.’ When it came to it, he had decided it was better to do his duty than to take the easy way out. If nothing else, Captain Jeffers had proved to himself today he was no coward.
‘Thank God for that,’ Dr Logan muttered. ‘You could have both been in serious trouble if he was caught. He would have been court martialled, shot …’
‘What does that matter? Either way, he knows he’s going to die. At least with a court martial it would be quick. He wouldn’t have to suffer like those poor men on the ward.’
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Nurse.’ Dr Logan looked down at the papers in front of him.
‘I don’t c
are,’ Grace said. ‘It would be so unfair if he were passed fit when he’s obviously still not well.’
‘That’s for the Medical Board to decide,’ Dr Logan cut her off.
‘Can’t you do something?’
‘I already do what I can.’ His blue eyes flared behind his spectacles. ‘I detest writing these reports. Sometimes I think I might as well be signing these men’s death warrants. I seldom recommend a return to active service, but whether the board takes up my recommendation is another matter.’
‘They should send the whole Medical Board to the Front and then see what they have to say about it,’ Grace said.
Dr Logan’s mouth curved in the smallest of smiles. ‘I’ve often thought that myself,’ he said. He leaned back in his chair. ‘You look tired, Nurse. You should try to get some rest.’
‘Yes, Sir. Thank you.’
As she turned to go, he said, ‘Nurse?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
They looked at each other, their eyes meeting across the office.
‘I would have told him to get on the train too,’ said Dr Logan.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
‘You’ve had a wedding invitation.’ Edward looked down at the card in his hand. ‘Someone called Sylvia?’
Anna had to hesitate for a moment before the name fell into place. It felt as if it belonged to another world. ‘Oh you mean Saunders.’
‘Who is she?’
‘A friend. We nursed together at the Nightingale.’ Anna looked at the curling copperplate script on the invitation Edward had passed her. Hard to believe Sylvia’s wedding was once all they had talked about. Now, after a couple of months, she had almost forgotten about it.
‘There’s another letter from your sister, too.’ Edward tossed the envelope across the table.
Anna picked it up and looked at the ragged, torn edge. ‘I wish you wouldn’t open my post.’
‘How else would I know who it was from?’ Edward asked, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.
‘You must recognise Liesel’s handwriting by now, surely?’
‘I recognise her handwriting on the envelope. But I don’t know what’s inside, do I? For all I know, she might be sending on messages from him.’
Anna forced down her rising irritation. ‘You know I never write to Tom anymore.’
‘I know what you tell me.’ Edward sent her a suspicious look.
Anna sighed. ‘How long will it be before you trust me?’
‘As long as it takes.’
‘We’ve been married for nearly five months and I’ve never given you cause to doubt me, have I?’ Unlike you, whispered a voice inside her head.
‘Not yet. But that’s only because I’ve been watching you. How do I know what you’d get up to behind my back if I let you?’ Edward put down his cup. He was smiling but his eyes were steely. ‘I’m sorry, my love, but you really only have yourself to blame. If you hadn’t gone sneaking about, writing letters to another man in secret …’
I didn’t write to him in secret! Anna opened her mouth to argue, then gave up. She had learned the hard way that it was never worth trying to get the better of Edward. He had a way of twisting her in knots, making her think she had said and done things she hadn’t.
And besides, she didn’t have the energy for an argument. A disagreement that started at breakfast was likely to simmer on all day, or until she apologised and Edward decided to forgive her. All she wanted was some peace.
But deep down she knew it wasn’t really Edward talking. Her Edward would never look at her so coldly, or say such hurtful things. Her Edward loved her, trusted her. He would have laughed off stupid arguments, put his arms around her and told her it didn’t matter.
She looked across the table at her husband. He still looked like Edward. The months since leaving the army had restored his well-built frame and his fair good looks. But inside, Anna knew he was still fragile, wary, damaged. It would take more than a few months to put that right.
In the meantime, all she could do was try her best to put up with the barbs, and the mistrust and the cruelty, and trust that one day her Edward would come back to her and everything would be all right again.
Besides, what other choice did she have? This was her dream, to be with Edward at the bakery, and she had to make it work.
‘I see your sister is still on about wanting to come for a visit?’ Edward’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Honestly, they can’t work those Land Girls very hard if she has time off to visit every five minutes!’
‘I’ve only seen her once since we got married,’ Anna pointed out quietly.
‘Yes, well, I don’t like her sniffing around. This isn’t her home anymore. It’s ours.’
‘Edward!’
‘It’s true. Your father left this place to us, not to her.’
He left it to me. Anna bit back the comment. ‘But I’m sure he knew we would always welcome her …’
‘She’s had her money,’ Edward cut her off. ‘That’s all she can expect.’
‘She’s still my sister. I want to see her.’
The words hung in the air between them. Anna saw Edward’s face tighten, and started to regret what she had said.
‘Then of course you must.’ The words came out from between taut lips. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was keeping you from her.’
‘You’re not,’ Anna rushed to reassure him.
‘I just know how much she upsets you,’ Edward went on. ‘I’m only thinking of you, Anna.’
‘Liesel doesn’t upset me.’
‘You know what she’s like. She always stirs up trouble when she comes to visit. She’s bound to say something cruel or hurtful. I don’t know why you’d put yourself out for someone who doesn’t care about you.’
‘She does care!’
‘Remember how she abandoned you on Christmas Day and left you all alone?’
Anna was silent.
‘But of course you must see her if you want to,’ Edward said. Then he smiled. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, reaching for her hands. ‘I suppose I’m just too protective of you. I can’t bear to see my little Anna hurt.’
She squeezed his hands. ‘That’s what sisters are like,’ she said. ‘We fight and squabble, but we don’t mean it.’
‘Perhaps I don’t understand.’ Edward’s gaze fell to his plate. ‘Having no family of my own, I don’t know what it’s like to feel close to someone. The only person I have is you.’ He looked up at her, and for a moment she saw her Edward in his pleading blue eyes. ‘You can’t blame me for wanting you all to myself, can you?’
Anna looked down at the letter in front of her. ‘I’ll write to Liesel,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it might be better to put off seeing her until the summer.’
‘Whatever you think best,’ he said.
She picked up Sylvia’s wedding invitation again and studied it. ‘But I think I will go to the wedding,’ she said. ‘It will be nice to see everyone again.’
‘When is it?’
‘The twenty-ninth of June.’
‘A Saturday?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure we’d be able to spare you.’
‘Surely we could manage? After all, we have some help in the shop now …’
After sacking Mrs Church, a couple of weeks ago Edward had changed his mind and decided that perhaps they could do with some help after all.
‘It isn’t fair to expect you to manage all by yourself,’ he had said to Anna. ‘Besides, you’re far more use to me in the kitchen.’
Anna had agreed it made sense. But before she had had a chance to advertise the position, Edward had turned up with Nellie Madigan in tow. She was an Irish girl with flaming red hair, a barmaid at the Fallen Angel, he had said. She had lost her husband in the war and she needed the extra money.
‘She’ll be good with the customers,’ he had told Anna. ‘And she might be company for you, too. I know how lonely you’ve been since you left the hospital.’
Anna wondered
if she and Nellie Madigan would ever be friends. Nellie was an abrasive girl with a loud laugh and a vulgar sense of humour. Anna doubted her mother would ever have entertained the idea of someone like her working behind the counter. But Edward wouldn’t hear a word said against her, so that was that.
Now Anna put down the invitation and looked back at her husband. In the months since their marriage she had learned to read his expressions, and the frown on his face now made her feel wary.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
Edward looked at the invitation, then back at her.
‘So do you want to go to this wedding?’
‘I’d like to.’
‘Are you sure she’s not just being polite?’
Anna stared at him, taken aback. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ve been gone a while now. And it’s not as if you see any of your old friends anymore, is it?’
And whose fault is that? Anna wanted to say. She had turned down their invitations to meet for tea or for an outing to a concert because Edward made it clear he didn’t like her going out without him. After a while, they had stopped asking.
It was a relief when they did, in a way. At least she no longer had to make up excuses.
But she missed them desperately.
‘But Sylvia sent me an invitation …’ she insisted.
‘Yes, but I don’t suppose she expected you to accept.’ Edward tilted his head and smiled at her. ‘I’m only thinking of you, my love. I don’t want you to make a fool of yourself.’
Anna looked down at the card in her hands. ‘Is that what you really think?’ she asked. ‘That she didn’t want me to accept?’
Before he could reply, the back door opened downstairs and Nellie Madigan’s voice rang out.
‘Eddie?’
Anna winced. ‘I wish you wouldn’t let the staff call you that.’
‘The staff?’ Edward mocked her.
‘You know what I mean. Charlie used to call you Eddie, too. It doesn’t seem right.’
‘It’s how she knows me from the pub.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose it’s hard for her to remember to call me anything else.’
‘I still don’t like it. You wouldn’t have called Papa Friedrich, would you?’
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