‘Any news on when you’ll be leaving us?’
Harry looked at Judith when he answered but I knew he was talking to me really. ‘The day after tomorrow,’ he said deliberately. ‘I’ve got one more day here. One last day before I head back to base.’
‘Then you need to make the most of it,’ I said, making my voice sound like I was joking though I really wasn’t. ‘See the sights of the hospital on your walks.’
‘I will indeed,’ Harry said. ‘Though I’ll be alone tomorrow because the doctor is off to assess someone else.’
Was I imagining it or did he put a little emphasis on the word “alone”?
Harry’s gaze met mine and my heart thumped. He was such a nice man, I thought. Kind, and brave, and very handsome. He gave me the tiniest of tiny winks and I thought,cheeky too.
‘So, you’ve got your last day all planned out?’ I said. My voice shook a little bit.
‘I have. It’s important to make the most of every day because life is short. The war has made me realise that. And your book, of course, Nurse Watson.’
‘My book.’
‘Yes,’ Harry said, looking at me like he was trying to pass a message through his widened eyes. ‘Your book.’
‘I don’t know where it is,’ I said, slightly desperately. ‘Do you need it?’
‘I’d like to write a final message, if that’s possible? Could you track it down for me?’
‘I think it’s in the children’s ward,’ Judith said. ‘I heard some of the nurses were helping the kiddies write messages.’
‘I’ll find it.’ I checked the watch pinned to my tunic. I had time before I had to be on my ward for handover. ‘I’ll go right now.’
‘Nice to see you, Nurse,’ Harry said. ‘I do hope I get to say goodbye.’ He looked straight into my eyes. ‘Properly.’
Feeling completely light-headed and giddy, I hurtled down the stairs, over to the main building, and along to the children’s ward. It was the only part of the hospital that was quiet now, with most of the littl’uns having been evacuated. But there were a few children in there and I liked the idea of the kids getting their chance to write too.
Panting and sweaty from my 100-yard-dash across the hospital, I pushed open the doors to the ward and told the matron who I was.
‘I need the book,’ I said, trying to control my breathing. ‘One of the airmen is off back to his base and he needs to write a message.’
‘Of course,’ Matron said. ‘It’s here. Some of the children have written the most adorable messages. Have a look.’
She opened the pages, and found some drawings done by her patients. They absolutely were adorable and on any other day I’d have loved to have read the messages carefully, and admired the wonderful penmanship, and chatted with the children who’d written them. But not today. Today I wanted to write a note for Harry and make sure he’d get it.
I made some suitably impressed noises, and then gathered the book in my arms. ‘So sorry,’ I said. ‘I really need to go.’
The matron looked slightly taken aback at my lack of enthusiasm for her patients’ talents, but she said goodbye and bustled off down her ward. I took the book into the corridor and, feeling slightly sneaky, headed for the ladies’ toilet. Not the staff one, the public one. I didn’t want to bump into any nurses. I went into a cubicle, sat down on the closed toilet seat, and opened the book to the page where Harry and I had been sharing our notes. He’d not written anything since I’d last seen it, but that didn’t matter, because I knew what he wanted. He wanted us to meet. And I wanted it too, more than anything.
Finding a pencil in the pocket of my dress, I tapped it against my lip and thought. “I thought you were dead,” I wrote. “Your bed was empty and I thought you had died, and it was awful. We have to make the most of the time we have together.”
I took a breath. I knew what I was going to suggest was wrong but somehow, it also felt absolutely right.
“I’m on a night shift again tomorrow,” I wrote. “But I can come to the hospital in the afternoon. In the basement, near the operating theatre is the boiler room. Meet me there if you can. I’ll wait from three o’clock.”
It seemed risky, writing the arrangements down so boldly, but Harry was leaving, and the awful truth was that I might never see him again. So what choice did I have?
I wet my hands in the sink, and dampened the edges of the pages so they’d stick together again, then checked my watch. My shift was starting in a couple of minutes and Matron would have my guts for garters if I missed handover. I didn’t have time to take it back to the hut and I didn’t want to risk the book going walkabout round the hospital and not making it to Harry in time. If I could catch Frank, I could give it to him. His shift would just be starting too, so with any luck he’d be in the little porters’ room.
I headed out into the corridor and along to the room and knocked on the door, nearly crying with relief when Frank opened it, buttoning up his porter’s coat.
‘Hello, Elsie love,’ he said. ‘What can I do you for?’
‘I’m dashing up to my ward now, but I wondered if you can take the book to the huts, please? I’d really appreciate it. One of the airmen is moving on and wants to write a message.’
