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‘I’d have loved to but I can only stay tonight. I’m getting the early train up to Edinburgh, and then to Fort William. Mother’s been waiting a while and she’s not inclined to wait much longer—she keeps threatening to turn up at HQ just to make sure I’m cleaning m’teeth every night!’
I laughed, and hoped he couldn’t see my ridiculous, crushing disappointment. Still, it wasn’t to be helped; family came first. Which reminded me: ‘Oliver, your timing is impeccable—did you somehow know Mother and Father would be out?’
‘They’ve left you alone on your birthday?’ Archie frowned, and I felt a rush of gratitude for his understanding. I’d spent the morning telling myself not to be silly, but it hurt anyway.
‘Really? There’s a bit of luck,’ Oli said, and clapped Archie on the back. ‘Come on, Arch, we’ve got time for some billiards before Father comes in and starts banging on.’
I followed them into the billiard room. Mother wasn’t here to admonish me, and besides Oli hadn’t been home for ages, and Archie was my friend. Why shouldn’t I talk to them?
To my pleased surprise, not even Oli gave me his patented ‘you should be off sewing things’ look, and tolerated my presence. To begin with I just listened to them talking, of things I’d never understand in a million years, I was sure. Trenches I’d heard of, of course, and seen them on the newsreels, filled with cheerfully waving boys, but I’d had no idea there was so much mud and you certainly couldn’t see it in those pictures. To hear Oli and Archie talk you’d think men lived in puddles for days at a time and never had the chance to change their socks. Archie talked of ‘near misses’ that made my fingers curl into the material of my dress, and Oli told him how a tunnel had been spotted by the enemy. Someone hadn’t stopped digging when he ought, and the Germans had heard and blown it up. The explosion, he said, rattled the windows of the nearby town, and… He caught sight of my face and stopped. I think he’d been about to say something about the men who’d been down that tunnel, but thought better of it.
‘Anyway,’ he finished, ‘that was the end of that. The sappers had to start again two days later and thirty yards farther up the line.’ He spoke as if that had been the worst of it, but I could tell by the way his and Archie’s expressions were matched in solemnity that this was far from the truth.
Archie sought to lighten the tone. ‘So, what have you been up to, Kitty? Met a nice lad yet?’
I didn’t want him to see how much that stung, so I just gave him a slightly withering look. ‘How about you—the nurses falling at your feet, I suppose?’
He chuckled. ‘Not that I’ve noticed. And thankfully I don’t come into much contact with them. You’ve never wanted to go into that profession then?’
‘I’ve done some training, but I don’t really have the temperament for putting up with the dreadful snobbery of some of those nurses. Actually I’ve noticed that myself and one or two others tend to be kept away from the patients.’
He had bent over to take his shot, and stopped, looking at me over his cue, an amused smile playing about his lips. ‘You remind me quite strongly of someone I’ve recently met,’ he said. ‘She’s an independent out there. Ambulance driver. They’re always looking for people like you.’
‘Like me?’ I found myself interested, despite the creeping horror their earlier descriptions had elicited. ‘How do you mean?’ Part of me admitted I just wanted to hear him say complimentary things, but another, bigger part, really did yearn to do some good.
‘Level-headed, healthy, sensible.’ He didn’t notice my frustration, and it took all the self-control I had not to break his billiard cue over his stupid head. Was that all he could find to say about me? ‘And,’ he went on, lining up his shot again, ‘preferably already a dab hand with the internal combustion engine, so they wouldn’t have to waste time teaching.’
‘How did you know I’d been learning that?’ I asked, slightly appeased. I was glad I hadn’t told him myself, so it couldn’t be interpreted as boastful.
‘Your brother here’s dead proud of you,’ Archie said, by way of explanation, and Oliver snorted, but then looked at me and shrugged.
‘Well, you’re quite the little mechanic, Kitty. There’s no denying it.’
There was a solid clack as the cue ball hit its target, and Archie straightened, satisfied. ‘So, what about it? Would you like to learn more and maybe think about it?’
‘Yes!’
Oliver was looking at me as if I’d just told him I planned to emigrate to Australia. ‘But you told the parents you were going to stay in England. That’s the only reason they let you train!’
‘Don’t you think it sounds perfect though?’ I pleaded, desperate to claim him to my side; Mother and Father would find much less to argue about if I had his support. ‘All that training with the Red Cross, and all I’m doing with it is cleaning floors and knitting socks!’
‘Quite right too. You’re doing valuable work right here in England. Why on earth would you want to go over to that hellhole?’
‘At least it’s nearer to you, Oli. They’re sure to take that into account.’ I turned to Archie. ‘Who would I be working with?’ It didn’t matter; I already knew I would agree to anything he suggested. If he thought I could do it, then I could. I felt a complicated thrill of fear and excitement as he explained about the ambulance base, run, until recently, by Evie, one of the Cheshire Creswells he’d mentioned before.
‘She’s not there just at the minute,’ he said. ‘She’s away home caring for her husband, who’s lost his memory. I don’t know when she’ll be back, but there are others who’d look after you ’til then. You’d be working independently, but under the guidance of the Red Cross, and attached to my own regiment, which is stationed close by. Evie’s partner, Barbara, is leaving to marry.’
I looked over at Oli, who was chalking his cue and concentrating so I couldn’t tell what he thought. ‘Oli? What do you think? I’d love to really have the chance to do something good.’
He eyed me then, and his face softened into a reluctant smile. ‘You’ll be wonderful out there, I’m sure of it. Just promise me you’ll be careful, and do as you’re told.’
I could have hugged him, but he was across the room and leaning down to take his shot. Archie had moved out of Oli’s way and was standing very close to me; it felt as if another inch would allow me to feel the warmth radiating from him and from there it would be a short step to putting my arms around him instead, and frightening him senseless. I backed away a couple of paces, just in case.
He whistled in reluctant appreciation as Oliver’s shot took him into the lead. ‘Bloody good shot, Mr Maitland, sir.’ Then he turned to me again, much to my gratification. ‘What about your parents?’
‘They’ll try and stop me, I’m sure, but I’m nineteen. There’s nothing they can do.’ Even the sixteen-year-old I’d thought so worldly seemed a child now. I had no illusions about the work I’d be doing, especially after listening to them talking earlier, but I pushed away a niggle of uncertainty; there was a duty to be done, and what could possibly happen if we were under the Red Cross?
‘You can go out and see how you get on,’ Archie was saying now. ‘Any help, even for a short while, will be invaluable out there. No-one will think badly of you if you don’t stay.’
‘Oh, I’d stay.’ Determination often got the better of good sense with me, but I had the feeling this time my confidence was well founded.
Archie’s smile of approval convinced me further. ‘When can you come?’
‘When can I start?’
He laughed. ‘It’ll take a month or so, but as soon as I get back I’ll talk to Lieutenant Colonel Drewe about arranging your documents.’
And, just like that, everything changed.
Flanders, Belgium, December 1916
The lorry was empty but for myself, and my rather forlorn-looking suitcase, by the time we reached the little cottage known only as Number Twelve. The girls I’d travelled with from England had all disembarked at the hospital in Furnes, where they were greeted by a harried-looking sister and whisked away to change even before the driver had restarted the lorry.
I was not treated to even that dubious pleasure; the cottage stood apparently derelict, and as the driver lifted my bag down I wondered if we’d come to the right place. Suddenly sure we had not, I turned to say as much, but he had already climbed back behind the steering wheel, and before I could summon the words: ‘wait a moment!’ he was driving away, over the pitted and uneven road, back towards Furnes.
If the cottage seemed deserted, that road was not. Ambulances creaked and roared, coughing their way towards the large clearing station up the road, and the empty ones rattled past them towards Pervyse, where the driver had told me heavy fighting was taking place. That was where the Baroness de T'Serclaes and young Mairi Chisholm were, and I couldn’t help feeling a little excited despite the gnawing fear. I wondered if we would see them, or even be called upon to help them—their work was famous at home, and their bravery the stuff of legend. Everyone I knew still called them Mrs Knocker and Miss Chisholm, but the newspapers called them The Madonnas of Pervyse—I could hardly believe they were so close by.
During the long drive from the ferry, even when we’d drawn closer to the fighting, I’d heard cracks and distant booms that didn’t sound as if they could be signalling any real danger to me personally, but as I turned back now to the ancient-looking cottage, in the hopes of seeing some sign of life, a tremendous roar seemed to suck the breath out of me, and I dropped to my knees and tucked my head down.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ a voice said. It sounded faintly amused, but friendly enough, and I lifted my head to see a slender, attractive girl with very blonde hair cut raggedly short. She held out her hand, both to pull me to my feet, and by way of introduction.
‘I’m Evie Davies,’ she said. ‘I only got back myself two days ago. You must be Katherine Maitland.’
‘Kitty,’ I said, and shook her proffered hand. She wasn’t at all what I expected; something had put a picture in my mind of a tall, capable-looking woman with a loud voice and a no-nonsense attitude. This girl looked hardly older than myself, and had smiling blue eyes and a clear voice. Well spoken, but with none of the ‘frightfully Home Counties’ accent I disliked so much, and which Mother seemed determined to adopt over our own north-western tones.
‘I thought you’d be here a week or so ago,’ she said, ‘but I’m glad to be able to welcome you myself. I’ve only been back a day. Anne and Elise have gone back to their usual billet.’
‘There was a hold-up with my parents,’ I explained. ‘They’re not overly keen on me being here, I’m afraid.’
‘We’ll take good care of you. They needn’t worry.’ She saw me looking at her hair, and ran her hand through it, heedless of the grease and oil on her fingers. ‘Dreadful, isn’t it? I dare say I look an absolute fright.’
I wanted to say it actually suited her face rather well, but she pressed on. ‘Lice are a terrible problem. I hope you’ll be spared the need to do this, but be prepared for it. I’ll check you every day, if you like.’
The notion of someone checking me for lice gave me a further jolt, but I tried not to look horrified. ‘Thank you.’ I combed my fingers through my own red curls and hoped for the best, but if I had to cut them off I would, without hesitation. I wouldn’t look anywhere near as boyishly pretty as Evie, but who was there to care here? The driver had told me Archie’s headquarters were just a few miles to the east of Number Twelve, but he might as well be in France for all the chance I had of seeing him. Oli had applied to be transferred to Dixmude as well, and would soon learn if the request had been approved, but even so I’d rarely see him either. I was here to do a job, not to be coddled, and I pulled myself straight and fixed my mind on here and now, pushing daydreams to the back of my mind.
Evie sloshed her way through the icy mud to the ambulance, and I followed. ‘We’ve only got the one bus at the moment,’ she said, opening up the flap at the back. ‘Boxy and I saved up and brought her over, but we’re hoping for another one soon—we’ve raised some donations, and the Red Cross back home are awfully keen to help where they can. Meet Gertie.’
‘Gertie?’
‘Haven’t you seen that postcard? The one with the pig?’ I shook my head. ‘Well anyway, Boxy said the ambulance snorted like a pig, and we should paint her pink.’
‘She sounds fun,’ I ventured.
‘Oh, she is. We got on terribly well right from the off. As shall we, I’m sure,’ she assured me, giving my already frozen hand a squeeze. ‘Now, let’s get you settled in, and I can tell you a little bit about what we do.’ She gave me an encouraging smile, but her eyes seemed distant, as if her thoughts were anywhere but here. I remembered what I’d been told about her husband, and wondered if he was back with his unit, or if he’d even regained his memory…but she would surely not be here if he hadn’t. I couldn’t imagine how she felt, knowing he was back in the lines. Archie spent a lot of time in the field with his men, but it was so much easier to think of him sitting at HQ with the other officers, discussing tactics, than out there facing the kind of explosions that had just driven me to my knees.
I followed Evie into the cottage, a tiny two-roomed affair. ‘We’ll share the bedroom,’ she said. ‘There are two beds, but luckily they’re very narrow so there’s room to get between them to dress. You’ll sleep in your clothes most nights anyway, especially during winter. Have you got a flea bag?’
‘A…a what?’
‘For sleeping in.’
‘Oh, no, I haven’t.’
‘We’ll see what we can find for you,’ she said. ‘It’ll probably leave a lot to be desired in the hygiene department, but extra layers are not to be sneezed at.’ She grinned, looking like a grubby child for a moment. ‘And speaking of sneezing, you’ll be doing plenty of that, too.’
It seemed as if having me to show around, to explain things to and put at my ease, was helping her too. She made us both a very welcome cup of cocoa, and as she talked about the work, and what we were and were not permitted to do, she gradually lost the slightly dazed and distant look and I began to see the real Evie beneath—resilient, determined and with a sense of adventure that could barely be suppressed, even here. Even as she spoke, the guns were continuing their raucous shout, and I flinched more than once, but she didn’t seem to notice them.
‘Don’t they ever stop?’ I asked, wondering how on earth we were supposed to sleep.
‘Occasionally.’ She sobered a little then. ‘It’s not always a good thing when they do though; it means the bombardment’s stopped and our boys are ready to go out and try to regain some ground.’
‘And do they?’
‘The Front has barely moved in two and a half years. A few miles, that’s all.’
I considered that for a moment, and looked around me, trying to imagine having lived here all that time. How much longer could it go on?
But I was starting to learn already, that Evie would not be solemn or reflective for long. ‘Come on then,’ she said briskly, standing up. She put her mug by the tiny sink. ‘I’ll show you the cellar.’
I jumped up too, eager to show my enthusiasm, but as I reached out to pick up my own half-finished cocoa I knocked the cup over, and sent brown muck spreading across the table.
‘Oh! I’m so sorry,’ I said, looking around for a cloth. She tossed me the greasy rag from her belt and I mopped up the drink, blushing furiously at my clumsiness. She didn’t even blink as I tried again, and this time knocked the rolling cup to the floor. Luckily it was tin, and bounced instead of breaking.
Within a day I had earned the nickname that would stay with me for as long as Evie and I knew each other. We’d had word that a convoy was expected at the station and I was to stay behind and ready the cellar, while Evie took Gertie and fetched out those men whose wounds might be treated easily here instead of weighing down the clearing stations and hospitals. We’d just had a hastily thrown-together shepherd’s pie for dinner and I was clearing the plates, my heart thundering with renewed fear at the loudness of the guns now night had fallen. I turned from the table towards the sink, and, failing to notice Evie standing behind me buttoning her greatcoat, I cannoned into her. She staggered sideways, barely keeping her feet, and the plates crashed to the floor. They were the last of the crockery that had been left in the cottage before it had been evacuated, and Evie looked at the sharp-edged and useless pieces with a little sigh of disappointment.
Then she looked back at me, and to my enormous relief her mouth stretched into a grin. ‘Everything’s going down like ninepins since you’ve arrived. Going to have to start calling you Skittles.’
I closed my mouth, which had been hanging open in a kind of wordless and disbelieving dismay, and Evie kicked the pieces of china out of sight under the table and wiped the gravy off her coat with her sleeve. She flashed me a bright smile, jerked her head towards the cellar, and went out into the night alone. I knew then that, no matter how awful the job I’d be doing, Evie Davies was exactly the kind of person I’d want to be doing it with.
In February the Clearing Station just up the road from our ambulance base was badly hit by shellfire. Even after everything I’d seen and been horrified by in the past two months, that had a profound effect on me, that somewhere so clearly marked with the red cross of a recognised medical facility might be deliberately targeted; was there a line that must not be crossed? And if so, where was it?
In the meantime Oliver had still been trying to arrange his transfer to Dixmude, and it was only this that had persuaded our furious Father to abandon his intention of travelling out here to pull me back to Blighty by my hair. He’d managed it just a couple of days ago, and on the day after the Clearing Station was hit, he arrived in a general staff car with a friendly lieutenant colonel named Drewe, and, to my breathless delight, Archie.
We chatted for a while, although my nerves had resurfaced at the sight of a ‘brass hat’ in our little cottage, but Archie and Evie seemed to notice this and, between them, put me at my ease again. I watched Archie across the table as he chatted, and noticed new lines on his face I hadn’t seen before, but he looked completely at ease here, and I gathered he’d been a regular visitor in the past—I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, and saw his eyes linger on Evie a little more than I liked.
But she was deeply in love with her husband; I knew that. They talked about him today, and I was able to piece together what I hadn’t felt able to ask Evie since I’d arrived: Private Will Davies had become detached from his battalion last summer, during the battle of High Wood, and reported missing, and Archie had been the one to bring him home. Evidently he’d been risking his life to do so, and although the pride I took in his courage felt wrong, I enjoyed it anyway.
Sadly Will’s return to physical health was apparently not reflected in his emotional healing, and I gathered he and Evie were struggling. Oli, the great clot, ventured to say he was glad to hear that Will was back in active service, but Evie’s uncharacteristically cool reply ended that conversation, and we sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute before I turned the subject around to why Evie did not wear a wedding ring. It seemed important to remind myself that she was married, and, although I disliked myself for thinking it, to remind Archie of that, too. Conversation moved on to my driving, and I felt bad for those unformed but suspicious thoughts, as Evie praised me with real warmth.
‘You’re more than ready to make the night run yourself now, Kitty.’
Gratified that Archie was there to hear her praise, I smiled, not knowing quite what to say.
Colonel Drewe patted my hand. ‘Excellent! I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job.’
‘Thank you,’ I said shyly. ‘I’ll be awfully pleased to be of some real help at last.’
‘Watch out for shell holes,’ Oliver put in. ‘Those roads are abysmal.’
Soon after, Archie declared it time to leave, and Oli gave me a hug. For the first time, I felt he really cared for me as his sister and not some annoying little oik that kept hanging around, so I hugged him back, and I think we both felt a little bit tearful at that moment. I know I did.
‘Look after yourself,’ Archie said, and squeezed Evie’s hand.
‘And my sister,’ Oli said to her. ‘I’m relying on you.’
I tried to dismiss the pang of jealousy at the closeness that clearly existed between Evie and Archie; the time they had known each other had been short, but strange and emotional, and it was bound to have had an effect on them. This obsession was dangerous; I had to put him out of my mind and concentrate on learning the job, so I could do the night runs alone as soon as we received our new ambulance. There was no room for distraction or mistakes.
But as Archie snugged his hat down over his dark hair, and gave me one of his warm smiles, I felt my stomach turn over with longing, and knew that if I slept tonight it would be filled with dreams that would leave me feeling empty and hopeless in the morning.
It would only be a week before my dreams would become so intense, so terrifying and so filled with horror, that empty and hopeless would have been almost like a breath of joy.
Chapter Four (#ulink_de90d6a7-3593-5f72-a239-a26949fd26a2)
Dover, Kent, April 1917
Passengers were starting to board. Frances Adams and I stood on the dock looking up at the huge ferry, at the faces turned back towards loved ones for a last glimpse, and at the hands raised in tearful goodbye…and I was suddenly unsure how to make my own farewell. Ever since I’d come back to Dark River Farm Mrs Adams had tried to be a mother to me, and it had touched me deeply every time I saw it, but I’d never been able to show my feelings towards her in the way others seemed to find so natural. If I suddenly tried to hug her it would feel awkward for us both.
‘Well, maid,’ she said, turning me to face her. ‘It’s time. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?’
‘Quite sure,’ I said, trying to stop my voice from shaking, because how could I be? I was not only going back into the very heart of the war, but also facing the destruction of my future, the disgrace of my family, and worst of all, the likely death of my brother. But the pretence went on, and we both knew it for what it was. The loneliness that washed over me as I contemplated this journey made me feel hollow and cold. Mrs Adams saw it, and pulled me into a rough hug, ending my dilemma with one quick, welcome movement. Although spare-framed, her height was comforting, and the kiss she pressed to my temple even more so.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ she reminded me.
‘I do. Oli’s life might depend on it.’
She held me tighter. ‘Oh, love, I do hope you can make the difference.’
‘Thank you for coming this far with me,’ I mumbled into her shoulder.
‘I wish I could come all the way,’ she said, and I knew she meant it. ‘If I wasn’t needed back at Dark River, I’d be—’
‘I know.’ I drew back. ‘You’ve been unbelievably kind to me.’
‘Well—’ she cleared her throat ‘—I seen something in you, young Kitty. You’re a kind, decent girl, and you’ve had a terrible time. I know you’ve shown everyone you’re a tough little thing, but you deserve someone to lean on. We can’t always be tough, can we?’ Her eyes shone for a moment, then she blinked and sniffed. She put one roughened hand either side of my face, and studied me carefully as if she was worried it might be the last time she saw me—I fought down a swell of fear at the thought. My mother had never looked at me with this intensity, not even when I’d left for Belgium last Christmas, and when Mrs Adams’s long, tired face broke into a gentle smile I felt a twist of unexpectedly strong emotion in my churning stomach. I smiled back, and she blinked again. This time the tears would not so easily be banished, and while our smiles felt less forced now, both were accompanied by snatched, hiccupping breaths.
A honking sound made us both jump, and I reluctantly let go of her and bent to pick up my case. ‘I’ll write, as soon as I have any news.’
‘See that you do.’ Mrs Adams touched my cheek again, and there was a look of real sorrow in her eyes now. ‘I’ll be thinking of you, maid. We all will. Take care, and don’t do nothin’ dangerous.’
