Wives of War

He nodded, looking weary as he stood before her, arms folded.

‘But my rounds, my patients, I will need to tell Matron and . . .’

‘Everything is organised, Scarlet,’ he said. ‘Gather your things; meet me at the commanding officer’s tent in an hour, and then we’ll both be briefed before departure.’

Scarlet was certain her knees were actually knocking together, legs most definitely beginning to shake. She bit down hard on her lower lip. She felt incredibly anxious. Maybe she didn’t even want to find Thomas.

‘Yes, Doctor,’ she said, slowly stepping back from the patient’s bed she’d been hovering beside. She took a slow, shaky breath and looked around, wondering when she’d be back and how different everything might be once she was.

By nightfall, she might know whether Thomas was dead or alive.



It had been only hours since she’d said goodbye to Ellie, but it already felt like days. The soldiers she was travelling with had been pleasant enough, much like the lovely men she was used to treating, but being the only woman amongst a group of men wasn’t something she would have volunteered for. They’d already had a convenience stop once, and while they couldn’t have cared less about relieving themselves around others, she had been red-faced and horribly embarrassed. They wouldn’t let her go far from their sight, and knowing they were so close had been awful, but they were being careful with her safety. They had to be.

But Spencer was his usual friendly self despite everything, and she was comforted by the fact that he was travelling with her. She doubted she could have gone without him, even if the soldiers had been friendly enough. Spencer was in love with her best friend, and she trusted him like she would have trusted a brother; she had no doubt that he’d protect her and demand that she be treated respectfully if he needed to.

‘Do you know how long the trip will take?’ Scarlet asked, clearing her throat and speaking up in a moment of silence between the men. They hadn’t told her why they’d left ahead of schedule, but she could only imagine it had something to do with their safety. She’d been told not to ask questions.

‘It’ll be a while longer yet,’ one of the men said, glancing across at her. ‘I suggest you get some sleep.’

She was exhausted, but the road was bumpy, the truck uncomfortable, and she doubted she’d be getting any sleep any time soon. Her imagination was running wild, too, thinking about what they might find, whether they’d see Thomas, what he would be like. She didn’t know how she felt, other than that she wanted to get him home, to do her duty by him in that respect.

‘Would you mind explaining to me how these soldiers ended up at the convent?’ she asked, speaking loudly over the noise of the truck. ‘I understand they were taken in by the nuns and kept safe there, but do we know what actually happened? I’ve been told more than one plane might have been lost in the area.’

The soldier driving answered her questions, calling back to her.

‘There were two planes shot down, and we believe that before the soldiers could be taken by the enemy, some brave locals helped to save them. They were taken to a convent, but we don’t know if any of those men are still alive or not.’

Spencer spoke up then. ‘Scarlet, all we know is that there were soldiers taken to safety. We do not know how badly injured they were, whether any of them could have survived even,’ he explained. ‘The only thing we know for certain is that local intelligence has confirmed that some of them were alive following their planes being shot down, which is a miracle in itself.’

‘So we could arrive there and find they are all dead?’ she asked, hardly able to believe what she was saying.

‘Yes, ma’am, that’s right,’ one of the soldiers answered.

Scarlet did shut her eyes then, because all the hopes she’d had, the scenes she’d imagined, might be so far from the truth that they were impossible. Thomas might be there, or he might not. He might have survived; he might be dead. He might be injured, he could be a prisoner of war, or he might have perished when his plane was shot down – a fiery ball of metal in the air that he didn’t have a hope of surviving. But some soldiers had survived at least the initial crash, and there was no reason why one of them couldn’t have been Thomas.

She listened to Spencer talking, wished she knew him well enough to reach for his hand and hold it, but instead she folded her hands in her lap and squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, hoping sleep would wrap its arms of slumber around her.

‘Oh hell!’

Scarlet’s eyes snapped open as the soldier cursed, Spencer’s arm thrusting in front of her as her body rose off her seat. She was thrown violently upwards, her head hitting something hard, something . . . She groaned, as everything started to go bright colours – every colour of the rainbow splashing through her vision.

‘Scarlet?’

She reached up, a swirl of blackness taking hold.

‘Damn it! Scarlet!’

The voice made her smile. She recognised that voice.

‘James?’ she whispered, smiling, feeling the change in her lips as she slowly became more aware of her surroundings. ‘James!’ she gasped.

‘Scarlet?’ the voice said again. ‘Who’s James?’

She blinked, reached for the face hovering in front of her. ‘James?’

‘We need to keep moving!’ someone yelled.

‘She’ll be fine, I’ve got her,’ the man’s voice said again as her eyes began to focus, the pounding in her head almost unbearable. ‘Scarlet, it’s Spencer.’

She groaned and let him help pull her up.

‘What happened?’

‘We hit something in the road,’ he muttered. ‘Who’s James?’

Scarlet swallowed, wrapped her arms tight around herself. ‘Ah, sorry?’

‘You were asking for someone called James?’

She went to shake her head then groaned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she lied.

Scarlet hated that it was James her thoughts always turned to, and not Thomas.

‘Go to sleep. Once we’re there I’ll look you over more thoroughly, but for now I can at least see there’s no blood.’

Scarlet huddled down, hugging herself to try to stay warm. Thomas, she told herself. Thomas. She was supposed to be thinking about Thomas.

By the time she woke, roused by the bumping of the truck beneath her and Spencer calling her name, the sky was black and her neck was sore from the position it had been locked in. She had no idea how long she’d been out, from when she’d first thought she’d never fall asleep to obviously falling into a deep slumber.

‘We’re here?’ she croaked, straightening and staring out of the window into blackness. She glanced at her wristwatch and saw that they’d been travelling for hours.

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