TWELVE
Staff Nurse Jennings had already departed when Mrs Gregson awoke, even though it was not yet seven. Her cot was empty, the bed made with admirable precision. She must have moved like a wraith. The air in the tent was freezing and Mrs Gregson’s breath rolled over the blankets like ground mist on a meadow. She kicked away the now cold ceramic cylinder of the hot-water bottle and shuffled up onto the two thin pillows. Alice, she noted, was still fast asleep, not quite snoring, but snuffling, as if in the throes of a dream.
Your secret is safe with me.
She regretted her reaction, now. Jennings’s arm must be quite bruised. Perhaps it was an attempt at friendship by the nurse, something they could both share and keep from the outside world? It wasn’t a secret, she reminded herself. It was public knowledge. If you knew where to look. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was simply part of her previous life, the life before Alice Pippery and motor cycles, nursing and war, when there was a Mr Gregson and a household to run and she only ever saw blood when she pricked her finger with a needle. Not the gallons she had seen since.
She knew she should get up and make some tea. Alice would have. But she gave herself another few minutes in the warmth. She would make peace with Jennings. Although she still wanted her silence. It was a multi-layered story, one that would not please Alice one little bit. And she didn’t want to lose her.
She must have drifted off because Sister Spence’s voice made her start.
‘Ladies.’ She was standing at the foot of Miss Pippery’s bed, arms crossed, looking as if she had slept for fourteen hours on a feather mattress.
‘Sorry, Sister,’ Mrs Gregson said. ‘What time is it?’
‘Seven thirty. Jennings has been on ward for an hour.’
‘We were just getting up,’ said Miss Pippery, her sticky eyes giving the lie to that. She rubbed them clear and threw back the covers.
‘Dr Watson has some other duties today, and so I was wondering if I might avail myself of your services.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ they replied in unison.
‘Once you have had your cup of tea.’
‘Thank you, Sister,’ said Miss Pippery. ‘Do you have any task in mind?’
‘I do,’ said Sister Spence. ‘I just wondered how handy you two are with a paintbrush.’