Kitty’s War. Terri Nixon

Why shouldn’t I talk to them?

      To my pleased surprise, not even Oli gave me his patented ‘you should be off sewing things’ look, and tolerated my presence. To begin with I just listened to them talking, of things I’d never understand in a million years, I was sure. Trenches I’d heard of, of course, and seen them on the newsreels, filled with cheerfully waving boys, but I’d had no idea there was so much mud and you certainly couldn’t see it in those pictures. To hear Oli and Archie talk you’d think men lived in puddles for days at a time and never had the chance to change their socks. Archie talked of ‘near misses’ that made my fingers curl into the material of my dress, and Oli told him how a tunnel had been spotted by the enemy. Someone hadn’t stopped digging when he ought, and the Germans had heard and blown it up. The explosion, he said, rattled the windows of the nearby town, and… He caught sight of my face and stopped. I think he’d been about to say something about the men who’d been down that tunnel, but thought better of it.

      ‘Anyway,’ he finished, ‘that was the end of that. The sappers had to start again two days later and thirty yards farther up the line.’ He spoke as if that had been the worst of it, but I could tell by the way his and Archie’s expressions were matched in solemnity that this was far from the truth.

      Archie sought to lighten the tone. ‘So, what have you been up to, Kitty? Met a nice lad yet?’

      I didn’t want him to see how much that stung, so I just gave him a slightly withering look. ‘How about you—the nurses falling at your feet, I suppose?’

      He chuckled. ‘Not that I’ve noticed. And thankfully I don’t come into much contact with them. You’ve never wanted to go into that profession then?’

      ‘I’ve done some training, but I don’t really have the temperament for putting up with the dreadful snobbery of some of those nurses. Actually I’ve noticed that myself and one or two others tend to be kept away from the patients.’

      He had bent over to take his shot, and stopped, looking at me over his cue, an amused smile playing about his lips. ‘You remind me quite strongly of someone I’ve recently met,’ he said. ‘She’s an independent out there. Ambulance driver. They’re always looking for people like you.’

      ‘Like me?’ I found myself interested, despite the creeping horror their earlier descriptions had elicited. ‘How do you mean?’ Part of me admitted I just wanted to hear him say complimentary things, but another, bigger part, really did yearn to do some good.

      ‘Level-headed, healthy, sensible.’ He didn’t notice my frustration, and it took all the self-control I had not to break his billiard cue over his stupid head. Was that all he could find to say about me? ‘And,’ he went on, lining up his shot again, ‘preferably already a dab hand with the internal combustion engine, so they wouldn’t have to waste time teaching.’

      ‘How did you know I’d been learning that?’ I asked, slightly appeased. I was glad I hadn’t told him myself, so it couldn’t be interpreted as boastful.

      ‘Your brother here’s dead proud of you,’ Archie said, by way of explanation, and Oliver snorted, but then looked at me and shrugged.

      ‘Well, you’re quite the little mechanic, Kitty. There’s no denying it.’

      There was a solid clack as the cue ball hit its target, and Archie straightened, satisfied. ‘So, what about it? Would you like to learn more and maybe think about it?’

      ‘Yes!’

      Oliver was looking at me as if I’d just told him I planned to emigrate to Australia. ‘But you told the parents you were going to stay in England. That’s the only reason they let you train!’

      ‘Don’t you think it sounds perfect though?’ I pleaded, desperate to claim him to my side; Mother and Father would find much less to argue about if I had his support. ‘All that training with the Red Cross, and all I’m doing with it is cleaning floors and knitting socks!’

      ‘Quite right too. You’re doing valuable work right here in England. Why on earth would you want to go over to that hellhole?’

      ‘At least it’s nearer to you, Oli. They’re sure to take that into account.’ I turned to Archie. ‘Who would I be working with?’ It didn’t matter; I already knew I would agree to anything he suggested. If he thought I could do it, then I could. I felt a complicated thrill of fear and excitement as he explained about the ambulance base, run, until recently, by Evie, one of the Cheshire Creswells he’d mentioned before.

      ‘She’s not there just at the minute,’ he said. ‘She’s away home caring for her husband, who’s lost his memory. I don’t know when she’ll be back, but there are others who’d look after you ’til then. You’d be working independently, but under the guidance of the Red Cross, and attached to my own regiment, which is stationed close by. Evie’s partner, Barbara, is leaving to marry.’

      I looked over at Oli, who was chalking his cue and concentrating so I couldn’t tell what he thought. ‘Oli? What do you think? I’d love to really have the chance to do something good.’

      He eyed me then, and his face softened into a reluctant smile. ‘You’ll be wonderful out there, I’m sure of it. Just promise me you’ll be careful, and do as you’re told.’

      I could have hugged him, but he was across the room and leaning down to take his shot. Archie had moved out of Oli’s way and was standing very close to me; it felt as if another inch would allow me to feel the warmth radiating from him and from there it would be a short step to putting my arms around him instead, and frightening him senseless. I backed away a couple of paces, just in case.

      He whistled in reluctant appreciation as Oliver’s shot took him into the lead. ‘Bloody good shot, Mr Maitland, sir.’ Then he turned to me again, much to my gratification. ‘What about your parents?’

      ‘They’ll try and stop me, I’m sure, but I’m nineteen. There’s nothing they can do.’ Even the sixteen-year-old I’d thought so worldly seemed a child now. I had no illusions about the work I’d be doing, especially after listening to them talking earlier, but I pushed away a niggle of uncertainty; there was a duty to be done, and what could possibly happen if we were under the Red Cross?

      ‘You can go out and see how you get on,’ Archie was saying now. ‘Any help, even for a short while, will be invaluable out there. No-one will think badly of you if you don’t stay.’

      ‘Oh, I’d stay.’ Determination often got the better of good sense with me, but I had the feeling this time my confidence was well founded.

      Archie’s smile of approval convinced me further. ‘When can you come?’

      ‘When can I start?’

      He laughed. ‘It’ll take a month or so, but as soon as I get back I’ll talk to Lieutenant Colonel Drewe about arranging your documents.’

      And, just like that, everything changed.

      Flanders, Belgium, December 1916

      The lorry was empty but for myself, and my rather forlorn-looking suitcase, by the time we reached the little cottage known only as Number Twelve. The girls I’d travelled with from England had all disembarked at the hospital in Furnes, where they were greeted by a harried-looking sister and whisked away to change even before the driver had restarted the lorry.

      I was not treated to even that dubious pleasure; the cottage stood apparently derelict, and as the driver lifted my bag down I wondered if we’d come to the right place. Suddenly sure we had not, I turned to say as much, but he had already climbed back behind the steering wheel, and before I could summon the words: ‘wait a moment!’ he was driving away, over the pitted and uneven road, back towards Furnes.

      If the cottage seemed deserted, that road was not. Ambulances creaked and roared, coughing their way towards the large clearing station up the road, and the empty ones rattled past them towards Pervyse, where the driver had told me heavy fighting was taking place. That