Holly finally arrived at the port in France in the early hours of the morning and a military vehicle was waiting to take her and some soldiers who had been on leave back to the camp. Thankfully it had been a peaceful Channel crossing and she had managed to sleep for most of the way, which meant she was feeling quite bright-eyed when she arrived at the hospital so she decided to report to the ward to see what shift she would be on that day. As soon as she saw her, Sister Flynn rushed over to greet her.

‘Nurse Farthing, I trust you have had a good leave?’

‘Yes, thank you, Sister.’

‘Good, then might I have a word in my office?’

Holly’s stomach flipped. She had an idea where this might be leading when the sister told her without preamble. ‘I have another mission behind enemy lines for you. If you feel able to do it a second time, that is? Both Dr Parkin and Dr Phillips are there at present but I desperately need them back here and a nurse to take their place. There is only you I can truly trust and once again the risks are grave. Are you up to it?’

Holly nodded. She had no need to even think about it. ‘Yes, Sister, I am. When do you want me to leave?’

‘Right now.’ Sister Flynn pointed to the clothes that Holly had worn the last time and she was relieved to see that they had at least been washed. ‘I knew roughly what time to expect you so Monsieur Le’Fete is waiting for you. I shall tell the other nurses I extended your leave because of a family bereavement.’

How ironic, Holly thought, as a picture of Marcus flashed in front of her eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to lie to Angela about that when she got back. If she got back, a little voice whispered, but she pushed it away as the sister turned her back and she hastily got changed. Minutes later the now familiar smell of fruit and vegetables met her as Pierre covered her with sacks in the back of the wagon and then they were on their way, but this time Richard wasn’t with her to assure that all would be well and as much as she hated to admit it, she felt sick with fear.

Chapter Forty-Eight

‘We have three RFC men here who managed to escape from a prisoner-of-war camp,’ Richard told her when she was shown down into the cellar. ‘Thankfully Pierre’s friend took them in and Pierre fetched them here.’

She glanced towards Harry but he was studiously ignoring her as he packed his bag, just as he had ignored her ever since she had told him they could only be friends.

‘The first two are not in too bad a shape,’ Richard continued, passing her the notes he had made on each patient. ‘This one here has a broken arm, which I’ve set so he can come back to the hospital with us tonight. The next one is severely malnourished to the point that he can’t even stand as yet and he also had a bad stomach infection, diarrhoea and sickness, as does the other one who is by far the worst. I should warn you he’s been whipped so be prepared when you change the dressings on his back.’ He lowered his voice then and told her, ‘Between you and me I don’t think much of his chances. He’s delirious and doesn’t even know where he is half the time. All you can do is get plenty of fluid into him, keep him cool and make him as comfortable as possible.’