‘Matron said we should make ourselves familiar with the place,’ Ellie said. ‘They’re starting our training tomorrow.’
Scarlet nodded. ‘I don’t even want to think what they’ll have us doing.’ Doubts filled Scarlet again. Maybe she would have been better off making herself useful at home, working with the Red Cross and doing what she could on the home front rather than becoming a military nurse. Part of it was fear of the unknown, she knew that, and the fact she felt so overwhelmed to be living such a different life from that she was used to. When she’d said yes to marrying Thomas, she’d known she would lead the same life she’d grown up enjoying, that she’d be safe and content, looked after by a man who’d always shown her kindness. That life she’d kept imagining was so different from what was happening now. When she’d accepted his marriage proposal, she’d naively imagined that the war would be over within a few more months and everything would simply go back to normal. Her naivety embarrassed her now, made her wonder how she could ever have known so little. But she’d constantly been told by her father that war was a man’s business, and that it would be over before they knew it, even after all the months then years of fighting.
They wandered slowly across the grass, away from the tents, towards a large stone house where she guessed the higher-ranking military were staying, along with the doctors. She’d heard a rumour there were even dentists posted with them, and that they could be travelling with them wherever it was they were going to end up.
‘Oh my goodness, look over there.’
Scarlet followed Ellie’s gaze, seeing dozens of men hauling large tin trunks up to be painted with the particular flash that identified each unit.
‘It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?’
It was Matron speaking, and although Scarlet had found her rather stiff and intimidating back at their first lodging, the woman sounded almost motherly now.
‘Ma’am, where do you think we’ll be sent?’ Ellie asked. ‘I mean, we’re going abroad, aren’t we?’
Scarlet waited expectantly, hoping in this quiet moment between them that something might be said.
‘We’ll all find out soon enough where you’re being sent,’ Matron replied, back to being brisk with her words. ‘It’s time to get your bedding rolls and kitbags stencilled, just like those trunks. You’ll be issued your battledress by the morning.’
Scarlet looked at Ellie, fear humming through every part of her body.
‘So it’s only a question of where we’ll be posted offshore, not if ?’ Scarlet murmured.
‘Yes. Now off you go to collect your berets; the case is outside the front door over there.’
The last time Scarlet had heard from Thomas he’d been heading to France. She knew in her heart that he was still there somewhere.
Please send us to France. Please.
They made their way quietly over to the case, being amongst the first of the nurses there as they reached in. Scarlet pulled out two berets. The first was too small so she passed it to Ellie and then tried the next one on. It seemed fine, so she tucked it under her arm and stepped back.
‘We’ve been summoned to Matron’s office!’ a nurse named Holly called out, breathless as she ran up behind them.
Scarlet turned to the friendly nurse. ‘What for? We were just talking to her and she didn’t mention anything.’
‘One of the officers ran down to see her just now, right in front of me, and she’s summoning all of us!’ exclaimed Holly, breathless. ‘It sounded serious, they were whispering and Matron looked alarmed. We’re to find our way to her office. It’s in the house, through the large drawing room.’
‘And you know nothing of what it was about?’ Ellie asked.
Holly shook her head and ran off to tell the others. Scarlet took the lead and she and Ellie walked into the house. They hadn’t had a tour yet, so she wasn’t sure what to expect, but straight away she saw that it was much older and more in need of repair than where they’d previously been stationed.
Ellie tripped and Scarlet just missed catching her by the elbow.
‘You all right?’ Scarlet asked, holding out her hand and helping her friend up.
‘Tripped over my own feet,’ Ellie muttered, holding up her hand and inspecting her grazed palm.
They were about to hurry off again when suddenly Spencer appeared, a frown on his face as he approached. Ellie hovered close to Scarlet, and she wondered if Ellie was embarrassed about the conversation she’d had earlier with him before leaving.
‘Do you know what’s going on?’ Ellie called over to him.
He gave them a tight smile and came closer. ‘Matron is about to share the news with you all.’
Scarlet watched as he ran a hand through his thick brown hair. He was ruffled, she could tell. He folded his arms tightly to himself and stepped closer to Ellie.
‘What have you done to your hand?’ he asked, noticing the graze. He made to reach for her, then quickly pulled back. Scarlet stifled a smile, seeing how badly he had wanted to connect with her friend.
‘Oh, it’s nothing, just a scratch,’ Ellie said.
‘I’ll check it for you, make sure it doesn’t get infected.’ He took her arm now that he had an obvious reason to and examined her hand carefully, fingertips touching the broken skin.
Ellie laughed and Scarlet tried not to do the same. ‘I’ll be fine. You have much more important things to worry about than me scraping my hand.’
Scarlet cleared her throat, not wanting to interrupt the tender moment between her friend and the doctor but needing to know why they’d been summoned.
‘Spencer, do you know what’s going on? What Matron is going to tell us?’
He turned to her, still holding Ellie’s hand, the slight smile that had momentarily brightened his face turning down again into a straight, more sombre line.
‘I’m sorry, ladies,’ he said.
‘What is it?’ Ellie asked, eyes wide.
‘The Allies have landed in Normandy and parachuted into Le Havre.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Lucy
Normandy, 12 June 1944
Lucy couldn’t move. Her feet felt like they’d become part of the sand, etched into the soft ground. The beach was swathed in smoke, and clouds of dust billowed around her. She squinted, certain that her eyes were playing tricks on her and the dust couldn’t actually be red. But this was war. She was in the middle of a war zone. Any horror was possible.
She choked, the thick air clogging her lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
‘Move!’
The loud yell of a male voice close by jolted her back into action, made her spring forwards, limbs suddenly mobilised, stumbling as she carried her bag and ran after her unit. Lucy heaved, the acid burn of bile in her throat making her want to double over and be sick. But she didn’t. She kept her feet moving, kept her head down, and rushed across the sand.