Текст книги "Time for Silence"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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“We won’t have much time to think of anything other than the hospital when we get to Marchlands.”

“Perhaps that will be good for us.”

“We will make it so,” said Andrée. “Good night, Lucinda. And once more, I’m sorry.”

I went back to bed. I thought of Andrée’s anxiety about Edward and hoped he was all right. What an excellent nurse she had turned out to be. I fell to thinking of the meeting in the inn. Then I went through that journey across Belgium. Pictures flashed in and out of my mind. I kept seeing the bewildered faces of the refugees: an old woman pushing a basinet containing all the possessions she had been able to bring with her; an old car loaded with people and goods; little children clinging to their mother’s skirts…all suddenly uprooted from their homes.

Such sights stamped themselves on the memory and would remain there forever.

Thus I fell asleep.

Edward was quite well in the morning, and a week or so later the hospital was ready. My mother was completely delighted, and indeed it was a great achievement. Several bedrooms had been turned into wards. There was an operating room, many storerooms, a dispensary—in fact all that a hospital should have.

We had two doctors: Dr. Edgerton, who was about forty, and Dr. May who was more mature. We had a staff of nurses—most of them young and fresh from training—and at the head of them an experienced dragon, Sister Gamage, who struck terror not only in her nurses but in all of us. Then there was the staff of servants who had been at Marchlands as long as I could remember. They were all dedicated to making a success of the hospital and delighted to be able to do something for the country.

As I guessed she would be, Miss Carruthers was a great asset. That authoritative air of hers was very useful, and she and Sister Gamage took a great liking to each other at once. My mother said she was a wonderful help.

During the weeks that followed, we were all very busy settling into the hospital. My mother was realizing what a tremendous undertaking she had assumed; but she was very appreciative of all those who helped. We were all immersed in the exercise, which was a good thing because it kept our minds off the progress of the war.

Disaster followed disaster. In early May the Lusitania, on its way from New York to Liverpool, had been sunk by a German submarine with the loss of almost twelve hundred people. This shocked the nation, and there was speculation as to whether this would bring the United States of America into the war.

The coalition government which Mr. Asquith had formed, bringing in Conservative leaders like Bonar Law and Austen Chamberlain, was not proving to be entirely successful. The fact that the Dardanelles venture was threatening to be disastrous could not be hidden. Winston Churchill was being criticized because of his whole-hearted support for it. The Prime Minister was being called inept and not the man needed to lead the country to victory.

We were all adjusting ourselves to the new way of life. Miss Carruthers and I were at our desks in the morning. In the afternoon we had two hours during which we often rode out. Miss Carruthers had ridden in her youth and had not been on a horse for some years, but she quickly remembered her old training and proved to be a tolerably good horsewoman. Andrée took lessons and occasionally the three of us rode out together.

Andrée, I discovered, had a great capacity for enjoyment, and it was gratifying that she was so thankful to us for taking her away from a life that would have been distasteful to her. Miss Carruthers felt something similar, but not to the same extent; and in any case she did not show her feelings as readily as Andrée did.

“I love old houses,” Andrée said one day, “particularly those with a history.” She wanted to know all about Marchlands and would study the portraits of past Greenhams and ask questions about them. I knew very little of them.

“You will have to ask my father,” I said.

“He would be too busy just now, with all that is going on, to bother with my curiosity,” replied Andrée. “By the way, what of that house…is it Milton Priory? I heard some of the servants talking about it. I’d love to have a look at it.”

“It’s about two miles from here,” I said. “We could go and take a look at it. It has stood empty for some years. It’s one of those places that get a reputation for being haunted.”

“So some of the servants were saying.”

“Strange noises?” I said. “Weeping and wailing and lights appearing in the windows. That’s the usual thing.”

“Something like that.”

“It’s quite derelict really. I don’t know who owns it. There’s nothing much to see really.”

“Still, I’d like to look at it sometime.”

“Tomorrow then. Let’s ride there. I don’t suppose Miss Carruthers will mind.”

The next day, when we get to the stables, Andrée reminded me of my promise to go to Milton Priory.

“All right,” I said. “But prepare for a disappointment.”

“Is that the old place surrounded by shrubs?” asked Miss Carruthers.

“That sounds like an apt description,” I replied.

I had not seen the place for about two years. I noticed at once that it had changed. The shrubs were as unkempt as ever, but it had lost that unlived-in look. Was it because the windows had been cleaned?

“Fascinating,” said Andrée. “Yes…it does look haunted. Do you know its history?”

“No…nothing at all,” I replied. “Except that it has been empty for a long time and nobody seems to want to buy it. I don’t know whether it’s up for sale or not. I’ve not heard of its being so.”

“Could we go a little nearer?” asked Andrée.

“I can’t imagine anyone would mind if we did,” I said.

We urged our horses closer to the shrubs, and as we did so, a large Alsatian dog came bounding toward us. He looked fierce and forbidding.

“Angus,” said a voice. “What is it, boyo?”

A man was coming toward us. His shabby tweeds and unkempt appearance fitted the house. He was middle-aged, with a tawny beard and he carried a gun.

“Sit, Angus,” he said.

Angus sat but continued to regard us in a glowering and threatening manner.

“What are you doing here?” asked the man. “Do you know you are trespassing?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We didn’t think we were. The house is empty, isn’t it? We were just looking.”

“You don’t come any farther until I know your business.”

I was amazed. I said, “I’m from Marchlands.”

“Oh, aye,” he replied.

“We just thought we would look round. We have done so before. Please tell us who you are.”

“I’m the caretaker,” he said.

“Caretaker at Milton Priory!”

“From now on.”

“Is it up for sale?” I asked.

“Reckon.”

“I hadn’t heard.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Someone must have bought it,” I said.

“Could be so.”

“I see. I’m sorry. It has been empty so long and no one ever minded before. We just thought we’d explore a little.”

“Well, I wouldn’t try exploring round here anymore if I were you. Angus wouldn’t like it and Angus can be a pretty fierce customer, I can tell you.”

“Well, now we know,” I said. “I’m sorry, Andrée. That’s all you are going to see of Milton Priory.”

“It’s disappointing,” she said. “I should have loved to know the history of the place. I wonder who will come here?”

“No doubt we shall know in good time. They will be my father’s constituents, so he will soon be after their votes.”

Miss Carruthers said it was an interesting place. A little too early for William and Mary, she mused. There was a touch of the Stuart…early Stuart. “It will need a good deal of restoration, I imagine. How long did you say it had been empty, Lucinda?”

“I’m not sure. But a long time.”

We rode back to Marchlands, and then we went to the hospital to see if our services were wanted.

At the weekend my father came down, as he often did. My mother was eager to tell him how everything was progressing.

I remember, at dinner that night, he told us how unpopular the Prime Minister was becoming.

“The war is still going on, so they look round for a scapegoat. Poor Asquith! He fits the case very well. Especially with Lloyd George waiting to spring into his shoes. Margot Asquith is furious. If anyone can keep the old man going, it will be his formidable wife.”

Dr. Edgerton was dining with us that night. He was seated next to Miss Carruthers.

“Lloyd George is a very able man, I believe,” said the doctor.

“Perhaps that fiery Welshman will have all the energy which Asquith lacks,” suggested Miss Carruthers.

“Oh, I’m not sure of that,” replied the doctor, and he and Miss Carruthers went into a discussion about the merits of Lloyd George and Asquith.

My father said, “I’m sorry for the old man, but people are beginning to wonder whether it wouldn’t be better if he resigned in favor of L.G.”

“What of Churchill?” asked my mother.

“Oh, he’s in disgrace over the Dardanelles. He was so sure it was the right course to take. I suppose he is not all that certain now.”

“Are things very bad?” I asked.

“Never so bad as the press makes out. It’s the bad news they find sensational. And if there is someone they can possibly blame, they will. People are always more interested in the bad than the good. Let us say that things could be better.”

My mother said, “We were talking about Milton Priory the other day. Lucinda was saying that they have a caretaker there with a fierce dog.”

I fancied my father looked alert. “Milton Priory?” he said. “What’s this about it?”

“It seems someone’s making it ready to sell. Lucinda went there to have a look at the house…to show Andrée in fact.”

“I was with them,” said Miss Carruthers. “The caretaker was rather officious and told us to keep away…in no uncertain terms.”

I explained to my father exactly what had happened. “The dog was very fierce. He looked as though all he needed was his master’s command to tear us all apart.”

“I expect the man knew how to handle him. Did you get the idea that they were preparing the house for sale?”

“That seemed most likely.”

“We shall know in good time,” said my mother. “I wonder who the new owners will be.”

“I hope they will be good little Liberals,” I said. “Otherwise we shall have to convert them.”

My father smiled at me. “How was the place different?” he asked.

“I think the windows had been cleaned…and then, of course, there was the caretaker. I suppose they will have to smarten it up if they hope to sell at a reasonable price.”

“We’ll watch and await developments,” put in my mother.

“I should keep away from it if I were you,” said my father. “I don’t like the sound of that dog.”

“We’re certain to hear when it’s sold,” added my mother. “You can’t keep things like that secret here.”

Then the talk switched back to the coalition and the possibility of Mr. Asquith’s handing over the premiership to Mr. Lloyd George.

Very soon after that Robert Denver came to see us. He looked really handsome in his uniform. He was still too thin and looked taller than ever, but less “disjointed,” as Annabelinda had once described her brother’s physique.

I was delighted to see him. I studied him with awe.

“Oh, Robert,” I cried. “You’re through. You’ve got your commission!”

“I’m pleased,” he admitted. “I feel like a man again.”

“Free of those bullying sergeant majors. Poor Robert. I could imagine how you felt about it.”

“Necessary, I suppose. But hard to take at times.”

“So it is good-bye, Salisbury Plain.” My face fell. “And now…the battlefield.”

“The battlefield is to be postponed…probably for a month or more. What do you think? I’m going on a course.”

“A course? I thought you’d just come through your training.”

“So I have. But this is different. Do you know, Lucinda, I was by no means a model soldier? It’s a bit of luck that I got my commission. But I discovered a method of memorizing the Morse code. The others couldn’t understand how I did it. To tell the truth, I couldn’t myself. Well, since I could work the thing more quickly than the others, I was selected to go on this course.”

“That means you’ll be sending messages…on the battlefield.”

“Something like that, I imagine. I’ll have my mechanic with me. He’ll fix the phones….That sort of thing would be beyond me. I’ll take the messages and send others…or something like that, I suppose.”

“Oh, Robert, I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve done nothing to be proud of.”

“You have, and you will do more.”

“Oh, I’m not made in the heroic mold. That’s for people like Major Merrivale. By the way, have you seen him lately?”

“No. He’s in Gallipoli.”

Robert looked grim.

“So is Uncle Gerald,” I went on. “We’re quite anxious.”

Robert nodded in understanding.

My mother greeted him warmly. So did Aunt Celeste, who was often at Marchlands and enjoyed helping in the hospital.

There was a good deal of talk, and Miss Carruthers and Andrée joined us. Then my mother, Andrée and I took Robert along to see Edward.

“He’s growing fast,” commented Robert.

Andrée looked at Edward with pride. “He’s going to be a big boy, aren’t you, Edward?”

Edward muttered something and smiled benignly.

We had lunch, and afterward my mother said, “Why don’t you and Robert go for a little ride, Lucinda? You used to love to ride round these lanes.”

“I like the idea,” Robert said. “Don’t you, Lucinda?”

“I do,” I said.

Soon we were out, riding through the familiar countryside, as we used to before I went away to school and there was a war.

We kept recalling incidents from the past.

“Do you remember when we found the baby blackbird lying in the road?” Robert said.

“Oh, yes. He’d fallen out of the nest. And you climbed a tree because we guessed the nest would be up there…and we put him back….And the next day we came to see if he was all right.”

“Do you remember when your horse tripped over a log in the forest and you landed in a heap of leaves?”

We laughed at the memory. There was so much to remember.

“It seems so long ago,” I said, “because everything has changed.”

“It will come back to normal.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do. I shall be back with the estate and in time it will seem as though this never happened.”

“I think that when this sort of thing comes it changes people and they can never be the same again.”

“You’re not changing, are you, Lucinda?”

“I feel different. I notice it…riding with you like this, and talking about what happened in the old days. Little things like the baby bird and the tumble in the forest. It takes me back, and for a moment I am as I was then…and then I can see that there is a lot of difference between that person and what I am today.”

“I suppose we are all touched by experience, but what I mean is, are you the same Lucinda, my special friend?”

“I hope I shall always be that, Robert.”

“You must always be, no matter what happens.”

“It’s a comfort to hear that. I’ve always been able to rely on you.”

“The old predictable, as my sister calls me. She says it’s why I’m so dull. She always knows what I am going to do.”

“Well, Annabelinda always believes she is right. She’s predictable enough in that.”

“It’s true that I am predictable in most things, and I suppose that can be called unexciting.”

“Well, I was very excited when I saw you this morning in uniform.”

“You were the first one I wanted to show it off to.”

“Are you going to your parents?”

“Yes, this evening.”

“And shall I see you before you go on your course?”

“I plan to stay at home for two days. Then have one more day at Marchlands, if that is agreeable to you.”

“I suppose you have to go home?”

“I must. My father will have so much to tell me about the estate.”

“You love the land, don’t you, Robert?”

“I’ve been brought up to know that it will be mine one day…in the far distant future, I hope. I feel the same about it as my father does. As you know, he and I have always been the best of friends.”

“My mother often says you are just like him.”

“That’s the general opinion. My mother and sister are quite different.”

“It’s odd to have such contrasts in one family. People say I am like my mother, but my mother says I have a lot of my father in me. I don’t know who Charles takes after. I suppose he’ll go into politics. At the moment, he is the only person I know who is praying for the war to go on until he is old enough to join the army.”

“A good patriotic spirit!”

“I think he is more concerned with the glory of Charles Greenham! He sees himself dashing into battle and winning the war in a week.”

“He’ll grow up.”

“I’m glad you are going on this course, Robert…because it will delay your going…out there.”

“I’ll be all right, Lucinda. The old predictable. You’ll see me just obeying orders from my superior commanders. I’m the sort who muddles through.”

“Don’t change, will you?”

“I couldn’t if I tried. May I make the same request of you?”

“Oh, look!” I said. “There’s the old Priory.”

“What a difference! What have they done to it?”

“There are new people there.”

“Have they bought it?”

“I think they must have. The old owners were so careless about it. Now there is a caretaker with a fierce dog to keep people out. Mind you, people did wander in and out. There were some broken windows and people used to get into the house. I suppose there’s a good reason for a caretaker.”

“They’ve cleaned it up, haven’t they?”

“Yes. I expect the new people will be moving in soon.”

“Let’s hope they’ll be agreeable and add something to the social life of Marchlands.”

“My parents are hoping they are good Liberals.”

“Well, the Liberals haven’t got the monopoly now, have they? With this coalition, a Conservative has as good a chance of getting into the Cabinet.”

“When my father comes home we hear something of what is going on. They are still harrying poor old Asquith.”

“He won’t last much longer.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“The only good thing would be to finish off this war and get back to peace.”

That evening Robert left us to join his family.

“I shall see you in two days’ time,” he said. “Make sure that you keep the day free.”

“I might even get Miss Carruthers to let me off lessons.”

“I always forget you are a schoolgirl, Lucinda. But it is not for much longer, is it?”

When he had gone I fell to thinking of Marcus Merrivale. He, with Robert, was looking forward to the time when I grew up.

I felt honored, and at the same time uneasy. When I was with Robert I knew exactly that it was where I wanted to be; but then, the exhilarating company of Marcus Merrivale was quite intoxicating.

It was Christmas again and then the New Year, 1916. Nothing was going well. It was acknowledged that the plan to capture the Dardanelles had been a failure.

There were some who agreed with Churchill that it was a brilliant idea but that it had been badly carried out.

The Secretary of State for War, Lord Kitchener, had gone out to the Dardanelles to advise withdrawal. There was no hope of victory there and it was a waste of men and ammunition to carry on. And now, in January of that year, the troops from Gallipoli began to arrive back in England.

It was at the end of that month when Uncle Gerald came to see us. He looked older than he had when he left. He told us that the campaign should never have been undertaken.

He played it out at lunch at the table.

“Doomed to fail from the start,” he said. “A lack of surprise, for one thing. They sent us part-time soldiers. We lacked experienced men, and believe me, that’s what was needed for an enterprise like this. There weren’t enough supplies. There was an acute shortage of shells. Asquith must go!”

“Churchill has already gone,” my father reminded him.

“Churchill’s idea was all right. That could have worked. It was the way it was tackled which destroyed us. You see, here we are….” My mother looked apprehensively at his wine glass. “And here…” He swung the cruet into line. “…the Turk.”

For a moment we watched him moving plates and dishes around the table. It did not look in the least like a battlefield to me and I was longing to ask for news of Marcus Merrivale.

“It hasn’t done much for our prestige. This is the beginning of the end for Asquith. Consider our losses, Joel…nearly a quarter of a million men…and many from the Empire. It’s a disaster, Joel. A disaster. I daresay you’ve been hearing about it all in the House.”

“They’ve talked of little else since Kitchener’s verdict.”

“Heads will fall, Joel. Heads will fall.”

“I daresay you are glad to be back, Gerald,” said my mother. “What about Major Merrivale? Is he back with you?”

“They are all coming back. Merrivale was wounded.”

“Wounded!” said my mother. “Badly?”

“Hm. He went straight to the hospital.”

“He could have come here,” said my mother.

“My dear Lucie, I think he was really rather badly hurt.”

My mother bristled and Uncle Gerald relented a little.

“In cases like this,” he said, “they’re taken off to one of the London hospitals.”

“How badly hurt is he?” I asked.

“Oh, he’ll come through. Trust Merrivale for that. But it was a bit more than a sniper’s bullet.”

“Which hospital is he in?” asked my mother.

“I’m not sure.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know the details…just that he was a stretcher case.”

I felt sick. I could imagine…a stretcher case. How was he? I wanted to see him.

My mother said, “We have a special interest in him, you know, Gerald, after, he brought Lucinda, Edward and the others out of Belgium.”

“Oh, I know. A great fellow. He’s not at death’s door. Just needs a bit of patching up.”

“You must find out more details and let us know. I think that if he is in a London hospital, the least Lucinda and I can do is visit him, Joel. I don’t forget what he did for Lucinda. Heaven knows what might have happened if he hadn’t looked after her, and we shall always be grateful to you, Gerald, for sending him to look after her.”

“Seemed the best thing to do. He’s a very resourceful fellow. Well, you’d expect that. There’s only one Merrivale.”

“Well, do let us know, Gerald. We’d love to go and see him, wouldn’t we, Lucinda?”

“Yes,” I answered. “We would.”

In his precise way, Uncle Gerald sent the information to us in a few days.

My mother said it was not easy to leave the hospital but under the circumstances she thought it necessary.

Andrée said she would like to come with us. Not that she would accompany us to the hospital, for she was sure three people would be too many, but she wanted to go to London to get some things for Edward.

“Do you remember that musical box he had? It played the Brahms lullaby when it opened. I know he misses it. He was opening a box yesterday and clearly listening. He looked so disappointed because there was no tune.”

“Fancy his remembering all that time,” said my mother. “But it’s a haunting melody and I suppose even a child would be aware of that.”

“It is that and a few other things I should like to get,” said Andrée.

“It seems a good idea,” replied my mother.

So we went.

Marcus was in a ward with several other officers. He was lying on his back and not quite his usual exuberant self; but he grinned at us.

“This is wonderful,” he said. “How good of you to come and see this poor old crock.”

“I don’t think the term applies,” said my mother. “Gerald told us you were improving every day.”

“My progress will leap forward after this visit. Do sit down.”

“Please don’t move,” said my mother.

“It would be rather impossible, I fear. They’ve got me strapped up a bit.”

“How do you feel?”

“Wonderful…because you and Lucinda have come to see me.”

My mother laughed. “I’m serious, Major Merrivale.”

“So am I. And please don’t call me Major.”

“Marcus,” said my mother. “We are so glad that you are home.”

“Does that go for Miss Lucinda also?”

“Of course it does,” I said. “We were worried about you when we heard things were not going well.”

He grimaced. “Something of a shambles, eh? However, it’s brought me home.”

“Where you will be staying for some time,” added my mother.

“That seems very likely.”

“We were disappointed that you did not come to our hospital,” I told him.

“What a pleasure that would have been…worth getting hit for.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” said my mother. “Marchlands is an excellent place for convalescence. The forest, you know. Perhaps later on…”

“You mean I might come to Marchlands? Nothing could help me more to make a speedy recovery.”

“Then we shall do what we can to arrange it. I daresay Gerald could do something. He can fix most things.”

“From henceforth I shall make myself a nuisance here, so that they will be only too glad to get rid of me.”

I did not think that would be the case. It was clear that that inimitable charm worked here as everywhere else and the nurses enjoyed looking after him.

The matron came in while we were there—a stern-faced, middle-aged woman who looked as though she would be capable of keeping a regiment in order—and even she softened and chided him gently because he was getting too excited.

Our visit was not a long one, but it was the maximum time allowed.

I felt a little uneasy as we left the ward, for I was sure Marcus was putting on a show of being in a much better condition than he actually was.

My mother was able to have a word with the doctor before we left. Marchlands was now known in the medical world as one of those country houses given over to the wounded since the beginning of the war, and therefore a certain respect was accorded her.

We were taken into a small room, and seated at a desk was Dr. Glenning.

He told us to be seated, and my mother then said, “Major Merrivale is a very special friend. How badly has he been wounded?”

“Well, there are worse cases.”

“And better,” added my mother.

The doctor nodded. “Some internal injuries. A bullet—most fortunately—just missed his lungs. The bullet has been extracted, but as you know, it is a vital area and we have to be watchful. There is some damage to the right leg. But that is minor compared with the internal trouble.”

“I see. He is not…in danger?”

The doctor shook his head to and fro. “Oh, he’s got a good chance of recovery. He’s very strong…in excellent condition. I’d say his chances of getting back to normal are good, but it is going to take time.”

“My daughter and I were thinking that Marchlands would be a good place for him to come for convalescence. We were wondering if the major could come to us.”

“I could not allow him to be moved just now, and this is going to be a long job. Later…if he continues to improve…I don’t see why not. He’s going to need convalescence, and to be among friends would be good for him. Yes, I think in due course, Mrs. Greenham, he might well go to Marchlands.”

“And…he really is not in danger…?? I put in.

“No more than most. We’re never quite sure how these things are going to turn out. You probably know, Mrs. Greenham….But I would say he has a fair chance of recovery.”

“That’s good news,” said my mother. “Have you any idea about when…?”

The doctor pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

“Well, I should think at least a couple of months.”

“As long as that!”

“Rather a grave injury, Mrs. Greenham.”

“Well, we shall look forward to receiving him at Marchlands. Will you let us know when it will be safe for him to come?”

“Indeed I will do that.”

“In the meanwhile we shall be visiting him. We came up especially today.”

“Marchlands keeps you busy, I’ve heard.”

“Very busy all the time.”

“We’ve had a rush of casualties after the Dardanelles debacle. Not that there are not a large number coming from France all the time.”

“Let’s hope it will soon be over.”

“I’d second that, Mrs. Greenham.”

He shook hands and repeated his promise that he would let us know when Marcus was well enough to travel, and we left the hospital in a happier mood than that in which we had arrived.

We had seen him. He was ill, but not so ill that he would not recover—and in time he would come to Marchlands.

Returning to Marchlands, I felt a sense of elation. I realized I was happier than I had been since the ill-fated Dardanelles venture had begun. I had been thinking about Marcus a great deal and every time the campaign had been mentioned, I had been conscious of a cold fear. Now it was over. He was wounded, yes; but he was still alive, and with his irrepressible spirits he would recover.

And in time we should have him under our care in Marchlands.

My mother sensed my mood and shared it.

“He is such a charming man,” she said. “I could not bear to think of anything happening to change him. He’ll recover quicker than most. Since the hospital started, I’ve noticed that optimism is one of the best cures to help a patient along the road to recovery.”

Andrée was eager to hear the news of Marcus, but I could see she wanted to get back to Marchlands and Edward. She hated leaving him even for a day.

It was about a week after our visit to London when I was awakened in the night by the sound of an explosion. My thoughts immediately went to the Zeppelin I had seen when the cottage near La Pinière had been attacked. We had to expect air raids. The Zeppelins were cumbersome objects and good targets for a firing squad, but they did present a great danger.

I leaped out of bed, put on my dressing gown and slippers and went out of my room.

Immediately I heard my mother’s voice. “Lucinda…are you all right? Charles…?”

Charles was already in the corridor. Some of the servants were there and I saw Miss Carruthers.

“That was a bomb, I am sure,” she said. “It must have been rather close.”

Mrs. Grey, the cook, had appeared.

“What was it, do you think, Mrs. Grey?” asked my mother.

“Sounded just like one of them bombs, Mrs. Greenham.”

“I’m afraid so. I wonder…”

We all gathered in the hall where some of the nurses joined us.

“What time is it?” asked my mother.

“Just after midnight,” someone replied.

“Do you think it’s an air raid?”

“Most likely.”

“I can’t hear anything more. Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Perhaps.”

Mrs. Grey said she thought everyone could do with a cup of tea and if we would like to go to the drawing room, she’d have it sent there. The others could have theirs in the kitchen.

My mother thought that was a good idea. Everything seemed quiet now and we should hear all about it in the morning.

Miss Carruthers said, “We must be prepared for any emergency. One only hopes they will not drop anything on the hospital.”

“They would drop anything anywhere,” said my mother. “Charles, come away from that window. You never know…”