Time for Silence

“No. I don’t think so. You know how anxious I get about Edward.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing much.” She had come up the stairs and stood beside me.

“What were you doing?” I asked.

“I was just going down to the kitchen to get some honey.”

“Honey! At this time of night? It’s nearly two.”

“Well, he has a little cough, you see. It kept him awake for a bit. He’s sleeping now, so I thought I’d slip down and get the honey, which does soothe him. Don’t worry. It’s just a slight chill. He’s been a little poorly the last day, I thought. And the cough was threatening to keep him awake.”

“I’ll get the doctor in the morning.”

“That may not be necessary. It’s just that this cough kept him awake for a while, and then when he did doze off…I slipped down to get the honey.”

“It’s a good idea. I’ll come with you.”

“Do you know where they keep the honey?”

“No, but we’ll find it. They must have some. It would be with the preserves…jams and things. You really don’t think it’s anything serious, do you?”

“Mon Dieu, no. I just fuss over him, I’m afraid. But you understand that. You are as bad as I am. I do know that children get these little ailments and are over them in no time. He’ll probably be all right in the morning.”

We reached the kitchen and, after a little exploring, found the honey.

“It’s wonderful the way you look after him,” I said.

“He’s such a darling.”

“I think so, too. But you are so good with him.”

“What I have done suits me, so please, you mustn’t make a heroine of me. I enjoy looking after Edward. I wanted somewhere to come. You and your family have done…everything for me. If I could repay you even a little, I should be overjoyed….But what I do is nothing…nothing compared with what you have done for me. To be here…to have escaped…”

I put my hand over hers and pressed it.

“It’s odd how something good comes out of so much that is evil,” I said.

“And evil out of good, perhaps.”

“Oh?”

“Oh…nothing. I suppose I must hurry back. His lordship may wake up. He’d be put out if there was no one there to look after him.”

“I do hope the cough is not going to develop. We’ll have to watch it, Andrée.”

“Trust me to do that.”

We went up the stairs together.

“I’ll come right up,” I said.

“Perhaps it’s better not,” she said. “If he woke up he’d wonder what was happening…then he’d never get to sleep. I’m hoping he is still asleep. If so, all is well. I’ll have the honey if he needs it. If anything was really wrong, I’d come to you right away.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” I said.

At the door of my room we paused.

“I’m so sorry I disturbed you,” she said. “I tried hard not to make a noise.”

“You looked quite scared when you saw me. I’m afraid I frightened you.”

She laughed. “I must have thought you were a ghost. Are you a light sleeper?”

“Not more than normally, I suppose. I just happened to wake up then. I think it was the moon. It shines right into my room. Oh, how I wish this wretched war were over! I think it puts our nerves on edge.”

“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.