The Victory Garden(9)

“All right,” he said, after a pause. “I guess I can suffer anything to be with you.”

“What are the names of your friends?” she said. “I’ll go up to Matron now and tell her I want you added to the list.”

A wary look came over his face. “I don’t think she has the highest opinion of us, from what she’s heard from the nurses.”

“Then I’ll send the motor for you myself if necessary,” Emily said. “And I’ll tell my mother that you are coming. It is my party after all.”

“That’s my girl.” Robbie beamed. “Learning to show some spunk. I like that.”

“You’re teaching me bad habits,” she said.

“Not at all. I’m teaching you how to survive in a difficult world. You can’t be under your parents’ thumb forever. You have to take charge of your own life now you’re going to be twenty-one.”

“Too right,” a voice from the next bed chimed in, making her realize that their whole conversation had been overheard by the entire ward.





CHAPTER FOUR

By the day of the party, the weather had changed again. For two days before, there was brilliant sunshine, making them worry that it was too good to last. Weather in the West Country tended to be especially changeable. But the day itself dawned fine and bright. Tradesmen’s vans arrived with provisions and extra chairs and tables for the garden. A dance floor was erected on the side lawn. Lanterns were strung in the trees. Extra girls were hired to help cook and to wait at table. Mrs Bryce was a bundle of nerves, flitting from one setting to the next, double-and triple-checking anything that could possibly go wrong.

Emily found that she was torn between excitement and dread. It was her big day, after all, and she wanted it to be special, but she was also afraid it wouldn’t live up to her dreams. And if Robbie could be there, that was all that mattered. The party was due to begin at eight. At six o’clock, a taxicab pulled up outside the house. Emily had been with her mother in the dining room, debating the arrangement of food on the buffet table. They looked up at the sound of tyres crunching on gravel.

“Now, who could that be as early as this?” Mrs Bryce said. “Not a tradesman’s van. Surely it’s not a guest who has the time wrong? Oh Lord. And neither of us dressed yet.”

Someone was emerging from the back door of the cab—someone in a nurse’s uniform. Emily gave a little squeal of delight. “It’s Clarissa!” she shouted, and rushed to the front door. Her best friend stood there looking rather pale, her dark hair shorn into a bob and her brown eyes seeming larger than ever in that white face, but she opened her arms and rushed to embrace Emily.

“You sly thing!” Emily exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? When you didn’t respond to my invitation, I feared that you couldn’t get away.”

“My dear, I didn’t know myself that I was coming until yesterday,” Clarissa said. “We were waiting for replacements who didn’t arrive, and there was no way I could leave without them. But then, at the last moment, a lorry with two new doctors and three new nurses appeared. What a godsend. And the sister in charge said that I could be spared, as long as I came straight back. So I only have three days. This evening with you and then up to my parents tomorrow. And I have to warn you that I’ve nothing suitable to wear. I was sure you’d have something . . .”

“You’re so right. My mother had two different dresses made for me, as the weather has been so changeable. Now they’ll both be put to good use, although I hope it won’t be too big for you. You’ve lost an awful lot of weight.”

“The result of little sleep, little food and too much worry, I suspect. We work twelve-hour shifts, day or night, and at the end it’s impossible to sleep. Sometimes there are bombardments going on nearby, and one knows it’s only a matter of time before the next load of wounded are brought in.”

“I think you’re frightfully brave,” Emily said. “I’d really like to volunteer, but I wonder if I’d have the nerve for it.”

“I asked myself the same thing,” Clarissa said. “Oh, trust me. There were so many times during the first weeks that I said out loud, ‘What in heaven’s name am I doing here?’ But you get used to it. You’d be amazed how quickly one gets used to horrors. And at least I know I’m doing some good. I know that some poor chap didn’t die because of me, and that’s worth every sleepless moment.”

“Golly,” Emily said.

The taxicab driver had unloaded Clarissa’s small suitcase and was standing patiently, waiting to be paid.

“Oh, I’m frightfully sorry.” Clarissa fished for her purse and paid him, obviously tipping him handsomely because he saluted her.

“And you want me back here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, Nurse?”

“That’s right. Thank you.”

“Come and meet Mummy and see all the preparations,” Emily said. “We’ve enough food to feed the five thousand. You wouldn’t think there was a war on or rationing. Cook has worked wonders, and the farmers around have been terribly generous. And we have our own strawberries and raspberries . . .”

She picked up Clarissa’s suitcase, slipped her arm through her friend’s and led her towards the house.