Chapter Thirty-One
Thirty-one
There was a period of calm. A time to collect ourselves. A time for football games and picture shows and rest.
Alison, Iso and I arranged an afternoon together, and despite the slate-grey sky and the cold, we were determined to spend it in the woods where we could pretend we were somewhere else.
Iso had dropped back and I knew not to turn, but Alison didn’t. She slowed, aware we were two not three. I put my hand on her arm.
‘Keep walking,’ I said. ‘But slowly. All the better for Iso to capture us in conversation.’
‘How did you know?’
‘It’s her way. Her wish is to be invisible. To observe without being observed. All the better to draw the truth of things, she says.’
‘And yet you know she is sketching us.’
‘But she doesn’t know that I know.’
‘She might notice that you have straightened your back.’
‘My back, Matron, is always straight.’
‘Not always, nurse. Sometimes you slouch.’
‘That is just a rumour.’
‘One among many.’ She looked at me sidelong, her eyebrow raised momentarily.
‘Surely we are not going to have that conversation.’
Her face relaxed. ‘No, we are not. I am sure there is no need.’
She wanted assurance, so I said nothing, just to irritate her.
‘There has been some talk of you at the Sister’s Rest Club.’
‘I thought we weren’t going to have that conversation.’
‘This is another conversation entirely.’
I waited, though I was eager to hear how I might be discussed by the sisters as they sat in their cane chairs drinking tea and playing cards.
It was always a thrill to know that others were talking about me, that they knew my name.
Before the war it had sustained me. Being noticed was the thing; being overlooked was unbearable.
‘One of the sisters from St John’s was saying how grateful they were that Red Cross nurses put their hands up to help them whenever there was a push. She singled you out for your competence.’
I paused, for Iso mostly. It helped if we were still, even if it was just for a moment. She would have us on the page in seconds.
‘If a critic described my performance as competent, I’d be looking for a new role within the week.’
Alison smiled and continued walking. My irritation pleased her. We had so much in common, and I think now what great friends we could have been.
‘She also said you were convincing.’
‘That’s much better.’
‘The men, other VADs, even trained sisters are convinced you know exactly what you’re doing.’
‘Stagecraft,’ I said. ‘I’ve learned my lines and my uniform is a costume. When I wear it I act the part.’
‘What happens when the costume comes off?’
I thought of Hugo, standing there in the storeroom as I held my chemise in my hand.
‘I can’t remember,’ I said. ‘I’ve taken to sleeping in it to save time between shifts.’
‘She suggested you’d make a good sister, that you should train as a nurse after the war. Your years here could be counted.’
After, I thought. What makes her think there will be an after?
‘Did she?’ I said.
‘She did.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I agreed,’ Alison said. ‘You are very…’ She paused. ‘Competent.’
I did not hate the idea.
‘And you would recommend me?’ I said.
‘I would.’
And she did, despite everything.