She looked pleased. “I’ll be sure to come back later then.”
He watched her leave, then he picked up the book, careful not to lose her spot. Growing up, he had loved to read, though he hadn’t gravitated toward fiction. But so many things had changed for him since those days, he thought, running his fingertips over the cover. He was a different man from the boy he had been. He had killed, and he would do it again as soon as he had to. The truth, it turned out, was no longer something he wanted to think about. Maybe fiction was safer for him now.
It struck him that Adele’s book felt out of place here, its pages fragile in his calloused fingers. Its words belonged in a different world. One in which things made sense. Suddenly afraid the pages might crumble in his grasp, he rushed to put the book aside, wanting to keep it safe.
threeADELE
Adele closed the book, her gaze on Jerry’s sleeping face. Her reading had lulled him, and she liked to see the calmness on his features. He deserved the peace.
She’d finished her rounds hours ago, choosing to read to him rather than retire to the nurses’ tent. Now all her charges were sound asleep, their fresh white bandages glowing within the darkened hospital tent, and it was past time that she go to bed.
Over the past few nights, she had stayed beside Jerry well past her shift. They had spoken into the late hours, their conversations hushed in the lamplight—really, she had done most of the talking, but she could tell from the alertness in his dove-grey eyes that he was listening closely to her. She had overdone it, not sleeping when she should, but there was something about Jerry Bailey that made it difficult for her to leave. Covering a wide yawn, she waved goodnight to the night shift and headed out of the hospital tent toward her own.
The fact that Jerry didn’t talk a lot sometimes made him difficult to read. She wasn’t sure if that was his natural state, or if it was simply due to his injured face. She knew other parts of him were hurting; like so manyothers, he politely refused to talk about anything that had to do with the war and his part in it. From his shuttered reaction she’d learned early on not to broach the subject. He would talk about John, though, and those conversations were his most animated. He clearly loved his brother, and it was difficult for him that they’d been separated by this. As terrible as his life was at the Front, Jerry wanted to be there, keeping his brother safe.
Inside her tent, Adele found Minnie, Hazel, and Lillian sitting in their nightgowns around their small table, intent on a poker game. It was almost eleven, but time often didn’t matter. They were all used to living on a few hours of sleep. A card game at the end of the day helped take their minds off the things they’d seen and done.
“Should I deal you in, Delly?” Minnie asked. Her back was to Adele, her riot of short black waves glinting in the lamplight. She set a card down then squinted up at Adele through the smoke twisting from her cigarette. As if he was copying her, the General roused himself from Minnie’s lap and climbed up to stare over her shoulder at Adele.
Adele noted the toothpicks the girls were using as poker chips, most of which were piled in front of Minnie. Lillian pursed her lips in warning. Evidently, Minnie was on a rampage.
“No, thanks,” Adele said, slipping off her shoes. Her feet tingled with relief. “I owe my mother a letter. But I will take a cigarette.”
Minnie held out a pack for Adele then turned back to the game.
“I should write a letter too,” Hazel said, propping her glasses higher on her nose and looking ready to throw in the cards. She was the meekest of them, and usually Adele ran interference for her on nights like this. But tonight Adele was too tired to try.
“Sit, Hazel. Don’t you leave me alone with Minnie,” Lillian said. She was an excellent nurse, and as organized a human being as Adele had ever met. When she dressed up for the occasional party, complete with scarlet-red lipstick, she looked like a movie star. “I’m in. Three sticks.”
Hazel set her cards down. “I fold. I haven’t had any good cards all night.”
Adele turned away from the girls to change for bed. She removed her veil, folded her blue gown over the foot of her cot, and slipped on her nightgown. Once she was under the covers with her pen and paper propped up on the pillow in front of her, she lit her cigarette and took a long drag, feeling the tension in her body release. After a moment, she took up her pen.
Dear Maman,she wrote.
I am thinking of home tonight, imagining we are together by the boathouse listening to crickets and the river. It’s been raining here for days, and the dampness of the air seeps into our bones. At least the Germans have left us alone for now.
My charges are all recuperating. Some of their friends have been sent to the main hospitals in England and France for their own, lengthy convalescences. Of the twelve in my care, I expect half will be going back to the fight next week. The others are still confined to their beds. If it would only stop raining, we might roll them outside during the day. We all are craving sunshine.
Remember the soldier from Windsor that I mentioned before? He’s rather charming, in a quiet, thoughtful sort of way. Sometimes we talk about home. It’s nice to have someone here who knows the same places I do. It’s as close as I can get to being there, I suppose. His face is healing well, though he will most definitely bear scars for the rest of his life. So many will. It makes me wonder what awaits us on the other side of this war.
She paused, tapping the pen against her lips, the image of Jerry Bailey hovering in her mind. She hadn’t really owed her mother a letter; she’d just written last week. She did owe one to her sister, Marie, whose correspondence practically glowed with happy tidings of married life and motherhood. Adele had yet to meet Marie’s husband, Fred Everett, asthey’d married a year after Adele had gone to war. All she knew was that he was a lawyer and worked for the war effort in a government office. He sounded like a good father to their baby girl, whom Adele couldn’t wait to meet, then spoil.
“Oh, Minnie.” Lillian sounded exasperated. “You bluff so well.”
“You sure I’m bluffing?”
“Come on. I finally have good cards,” Hazel whined. “If you’re only bluffing, give me a shot!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Minnie teased, blowing out a stream of cigarette smoke. “Don’t worry. You’ll do better next week when I’m away on that hospital ship.” She looked at Adele. “Listen, Delly. I can’t thank you enough for letting me switch with you. It’s going to be perfect timing for me to meet up with my cousin. I haven’t seen Jeanette in forever. She’s my best friend—other than you three, of course. She and I always get into the best kinds of trouble.”
Adele smiled. “I’m happy it worked out,” she said, and she was. It would have been a nice break for her, but since the ship was only going to Halifax and back, the timing of the trip would be too short to permit her to go to Toronto and see Marie. “I’ll go another time. Is it a full ship?”
“Something like fourteen nurses to look after six hundred wounded.”
“Busy!”
“Yeah. It’s a quick trip. Jeanette and I will have to make the days count. Then I think we come back here with two hundred men, hale and fresh for the front line.” She paused. “Such a waste.”
