Chapter 13 #2
“QA uniforms. I have a new plan. Dr. Clark is in surgery. Since you came with me, you’re going to help me.
Get dressed.” Ginger pulled the stack from Madeline’s lap and sorted the uniforms, handing them one each.
“They’re large enough that you can pull them over your dresses, however uncomfortable it may be.
They’re ward dresses and aprons. I’m not certain how to fix the veil, but I’m sure between the three of us we can make sense of it. I have one for myself here.”
Gran stared at her as though she had gone mad. “You’re expecting me to don one of those—sacks? While riding in the back seat of this motorcar?”
“Precisely.” Ginger grinned, stretching the veil out in front of her.
How is this thing supposed to go? “I’m not sure if I can convince them of anything on my own.
But who would question three noble nurses of the Queen Alexandra’s?
Especially when one is as mature and wise as you, Gran.
” Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s your sense of adventure? A man’s life is on the line.”
“Exaggeration won’t help you, dearest. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you called me old.
I’m not a relic.” Her grandmother had been a young mother and proud that she wasn’t as old as some of the other women in her circles.
Gran held up the ward dress as though it was an infant’s dirty nappy. “Did you steal these?”
“Borrowed would be a better term for it.” At Gran’s uplifted brow, Ginger said, “The QA matron allowed me to borrow them, in fact, to see about having some tailored. Normally they wouldn’t do it before an applicant was accepted, but Dr. Clark had a hand in persuading her.”
“I think it’s quite resourceful.” Madeline gave a chuckle. She tapped on the window for the chauffeur to pull forward, back onto the road.
Madeline pulled the ward dress over her blouse. It was a rather shapeless greyish blue sack. As she buttoned it, Ginger noticed her watching her grandmother. Would they be able to convince her?
Gran glowered as Madeline pulled on the apron. “You look ridiculous.”
“Oh, pretend you’re an actress, Mama. Here, I’ll help you.” Madeline scooted across her seat toward her.
Gran held up her hands. “No, thank you. I’m quite capable of pulling a potato sack over my head.” She removed her hat. “I suppose I’m to rid myself of all my jewelry, as well?”
“If we’re to be believable.” Despite the humor of the situation, Ginger’s nervous feeling grew more intense as they drew closer to the area of town where the Martins were being interned.
By the time they arrived, the three women had transformed themselves into nurses, as best they could. Ginger’s laugh was a temporary relief to the growing tension in her chest. “Thank you for this. I’ll never forget it.”
“Oh, believe me—I won’t let you.” Gran harrumphed as the chauffeur pulled up in front of the factory.
“Perhaps the only reason I’m doing this, you should know, is because I’m proud you had the spine to stand up to your father over that awful Stephen Fisher.
But no one is ever to know of this, understood? ”
Several military and police officials milled outside the building and Ginger tried to settle her trembling hands.
What if they were caught? Her mother might not ever forgive her if Ginger was to blame for her grandmother and aunt being thrown in jail.
They stepped onto the pavement. Their shoes weren’t right for the outfits. But little could be done about it and Ginger prayed no one would notice. Despite the urge to laugh at their appearance, as a police officer walked by them and frowned, she quickly sobered.
“Buck up,” Madeline whispered in her ear. “It’s time to prove you’re willing to take those risks you claim you are.”
“I am,” Ginger whispered back. “I worry about what happens to you and Gran if we’re found out.”
“We wouldn’t be dressed like this if we minded,” Gran remarked dryly.
“Besides which. I rather like to think you got this penchant for trouble from me. It skipped Elizabeth entirely. I’m glad to see it alive and strong.
Never forget. You’re a Scot on this side of the family. We Scots do as we please.”
Ginger held back a laugh.
Taking charge, Ginger made her way down the pavement to what appeared to be the front entrance.
By the time they reached it, she was drenched in sweat from the summer heat.
Madeline and Gran were in a similar state, a sheen on their foreheads.
Silver hairs stuck to Gran’s forehead. Wearing two outfits must be intolerable.
A military officer stood at the entrance. “Yes, Sisters?”
“We’re here for a medical transport,” Ginger said, her voice sounding much more solid than she felt. In addition to the heat, her knees felt weak. She’d never done anything like this before.
He frowned and checked his clipboard. “I don’t have a record of a medical transport.”
Ginger hesitated and Gran stepped forward.
“Young man. We have been sent from St. Thomas’ Hospital to collect a patient who is desperately in need of quarantine.
Immediately. His entire family has typhus.
Now, are you going to be the one who allows the disease to spread among the inmates and officers because someone didn’t give you the proper paperwork? ”
Ginger held back an astonished look. Gran wasn’t the type to allow herself to be pushed to the side, but her authoritative tone had been more convincing than Ginger would have imagined.
The officer reddened and shifted, as though feeling threatened by the idea of getting typhus himself. He scanned their faces. “I-I...let me see who I can talk to about this. What’s the prisoner’s name?”
“John Martin,” Ginger said quickly. “This was supposed to have been arranged this morning, sir.”
The officer nodded. “One moment, please.”
As he slipped inside, Ginger gave her grandmother a sidelong glance. “What on earth? How did you come up with all that?”
“Years of filling my brain with mysteries, I suppose.” A smile twitched at her grandmother’s lips.
“And Hugh said you’d gain nothing from novel reading,” Madeline muttered with lifted brows.
The reverberating engines of motorcars and clopping of horse carriages on the street were a distant din. Escape seemed so far. No turning back now.
A familiar car pulled up beside the curb and Stephen stepped from it.
Turning away from him, Ginger felt her heartbeat pulse in her throat. “What in God’s name is he doing here?” She set a hand on Madeline’s to steady herself. He would recognize her in an instant.
“What is it?” Madeline looked over her shoulder. “Oh—” She nudged her mother. “Don’t look now, Mama. We’re about to get caught.”
Gran glanced back and then gave them both a smug smile. “Don’t look at him. He isn’t likely to give us a moment’s attention if we’re not looking at him. He can’t possibly recognize us from behind.”
As Stephen drew closer, the officer came out the door again. “This way, please. You’ll need to identify the patient. We have more than one man with that name here.” He glanced past them at Stephen, who stopped behind them. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes, sir. What’re you here for?”
“I’m here to see the head of command. On a very urgent matter,” Stephen said. Gran was right. He barely paid attention to them.
“As soon as I’m done helping these sisters.” The officer held the door for them.
Ginger passed through, her gait feeling stiff and artificial. Just remain calm. She felt faint and breathed shallowly, gripping Madeline’s arm.
Why was Stephen here? To reverse the paperwork he’d obtained for John Martin?
She wouldn’t put it past him.
The air inside was degrees cooler but nothing helped the insufferable feeling of choking.
They followed the officer to what appeared to be some sort of holding room.
Another officer sat at a desk, drinking tea as he wrote in a ledger.
As they arrived, a back door in the room opened and John came through, accompanied by an escort.
Two other interned men filed in behind him.
“That’s him. That’s the patient.” Ginger moved toward John. She pointed to him. The officer gave him a wary look.
John appeared dumbfounded but from the way he drew in his eyebrows, he recognized her.
Ginger met his gaze, giving him a pleading look. Please don’t give us away. Her voice felt hoarse as she spoke, “This is the man who needs to be in quarantine.”
John blanched. “Quarantine?”
“Your family has come down with typhus. We have medical transport for you. We need to leave immediately,” Madeline said in a stern tone.
Gran gave a grave nod.
John shifted nervously. “Typhus? Well, what about—”
His father? Of course, that would be the worry.
Ginger cut him off. “Please, Mr. Martin. Don’t give us any trouble.
This whole internment center is at risk if you don’t cooperate and come along.
You wouldn’t want to put everyone in danger, would you?
” She had to hope the officers didn’t know the internees well enough to know John also had a father here.
John’s face was somber. The officer at the desk shifted in his seat, holding his mug back as though the disease could be transmitted through it. “Is my family all right?” John asked.
“We’re taking care of them.” Hopefully that would be enough for him to understand she was trying to help him.
Ginger took a deep breath, wanting more than anything to tell John the truth.
She wished she could see Mr. Martin. Promise she would keep fighting for him.
Give him a chance to say goodbye to his son.
She hoped John would forgive her for not letting her have a chance to say goodbye.
Gran and Madeline were at her side. “Quickly now,” Madeline said and held her arm out for John to take. The officer at the desk wore a bewildered but resigned expression. “We’ll return him when he’s well. Thank you, officer.”
They hurried out the door to the holding room, the front guard still escorting them. Before it shut, Ginger gave one last glance back.
She wanted more than anything to help Mr. Martin, too.
Henry’s voice rang in her head. Friedrich is beyond our help. You must accept that.
She didn’t want to accept it.
Drawing closer to the front guard’s station, Ginger saw Stephen through a window. He still waited outside, a scowl on his face. Going out this way would mean he’d see her for sure.
“Not this way.” Ginger spun toward the guard. “We don’t want to put any member of the public at risk by getting too close. Is there a back entrance?”
The guard took several steps away, rubbing his hands on his jacket uneasily. He nodded. “But isn’t it better to just get him outside?”
“Could you, perhaps, escort that man in the front elsewhere? It would be for the best,” Madeline said. “Then we can go through once you’re both safely out of the way.”
The guard gave a brisk nod, clearly relieved to be away from the diseased patient. He hurried out. Moments later, he and Stephen started off in another direction.
Ginger held her breath as they went outside. The closer they drew to the car, the more her heart pounded.
Madeline’s chauffeur said nothing as he opened the door to the motorcar for them. But a smile glimmered in his eyes.
As the door shut behind them, Ginger gripped the sides of her seat, her palms sweating.
Somehow, they’d done it.