But these were human beings created in God’s image, and she refused to let revulsion or pity warp her face, only concern.
One man, with wheat-colored hair and a scar across his cheek and brow, met her gaze with a desperate look. “Please, miss. Can you spare any food?”
She had none. “I’m sorry. I have—”
A truncheon slammed down on the Russian’s shoulder, and he stumbled.
Ivy cried out.
A guard shook his victim’s arm and barked at him in German, waving the truncheon in Ivy’s direction.
The Russian wore red epaulettes on his double-breasted smock—an officer, most likely. With his head bowed, he glanced at Ivy from under a strong brow. “He says to tell you, to tell your comrades, that if you feed us, you must be prepared to join us.”
Somehow Ivy nodded. “I am so sorry, sir.”
The guard scowled at her and shoved the officer back into formation.
The formation that kept marching. Dozens—no, hundreds of men. Many with makeshift bandages. With rags in place of shoes.
Ivy kept her chin high, kept giving the men the same look of sorrow mixed with respect, even as tears tingled on her cheeks.
She’d been trained to soothe suffering. And now she could do nothing at all.
Ivy turned onto King Street, delayed by who knew how long, aching from the memory of the bedraggled Todt workers.
In the once-thriving shopping area, too many shops were boarded up—those that sold goods that were no longer attainable. Most other shops were open only three days a week, with queues to buy the weekly ration of six ounces of meat and three ounces of sugar and two ounces of butter.
After King Street turned to Queen Street, Ivy locked her bicycleto a bench, a necessity with rampant thefts, and she removed her medical bag. Losing that would be even worse than losing her bicycle. She could never replace the instruments.
Inside Carter’s Chemist’s, Miss de Ferrers was working today, rather than Mr. Carter.
Ivy approached the counter. “Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Picot.”
“I’ll bring your iodine as soon as I finish compounding this ointment.” On a marble slab, Miss de Ferrers wielded a skinny spatula in a figure-eight motion through the clump of ointment. She wore her curly auburn hair tucked up in rolls, and lines of concentration radiated around her mouth. Not a pretty face, but intriguing with deep-set eyes and a pointed chin.
Ivy resisted the urge to fetch her sketch pad. “I’m glad I could finally meet you.”
Miss de Ferrers cut her a quick glance, revealing hazel in her eyes. “Why? Because I’m the only lady chemist in Jersey and you’re the only lady doctor?”
“Well ... yes.” Why did Ivy feel that was the incorrect answer?
A huff of a chuckle. Miss de Ferrers scooped the ointment into a squat glass jar and swirled the tip of her spatula inside, creating a tiny peak. “I apologize, but I have no taste for feminine friendships.”
Ivy’s jaw froze open, and she guided it closed. Pain pinged in her chest for the woman who must have seen only the ugly side of feminine friendship—and for herself, because she missed the beautiful side.
At Oxford, there were only twelve women in Ivy’s year of medical school. They’d banded together to support and help each other. They’d become lifelong friends.
The chemist set down the ointment jar, picked up a bottle of brown-black iodine solution, and handed it to Ivy. “That will be two shillings, please.”
Concealing her sigh, Ivy paid Miss de Ferrers with the new two-shilling banknote printed in Jersey due to a shortage of coins.
After saying goodbye, she cycled along Queen Street. Yes, she had lifelong friends, but they were in England. She couldn’t see them, couldn’t talk to them, couldn’t even write them. And her childhood friends in Jersey? Whilst Ivy had been away at university, they’d married and had children and formed new circles with no room for her.
How she missed Dad and Mum. Messages passed between them through the Red Cross, but only about twice a year, with a limit of twenty-five words, and delayed by several months.
At least Ivy had her aunts, uncles, sister, and brother.
Ivy pedaled up Bath Street to La Bliue Brise, painted white with peacock-blue shutters and door.
