Nobody could resist Ada’s charm and natural warmth; it was impossible not to want to be her friend. Ada’s patients grew to love and trust her from the moment they met her, and in the months that led up to their giving birth that bond grew stronger and stronger. She would always be there for them, putting their needs first, listening and soothing, comforting and encouraging like the natural-born nurse she was. Ada could now add motherhood to her professional expertise; bringing her own baby into the world had made her even more compassionate and understanding. She knew what it was like to hold a new-born infant in her arms, to feel the pulse of her milk coming through her breasts and, even after the agony of childbirth, to know the euphoric bliss of smiling into your baby’s misty pale eyes for the very first time.

Nobody could have been happier than Ada as she walked along the wards; supervising the care of young pregnant women was a task she loved. Added to which she had the joy and support of friends who enhanced her daily life at Mary Vale; solid as a rock Dora, adorable young Sister Theresa, darling Sister Mary Paul and last of all Matron, dearest Sister Ann, whom she had worked alongside for years. They had unquestionably had their bad times during 1942 – Rosie’s poor husband lost in mysterious circumstances in the midst of warfare, her darling Jamie fighting the war in North Africa, losing Sister Mann, not to mention Ronnie and Sally running off to London – but better times had followed, like Ronnie assisting Sybil throughout her labour and Sybil now serving her country working in radar.

‘That’s Mary Vale’s grace working within us,’ Ada thought. ‘A surprise around every corner.’

Once a sacred priory, Mary Vale had withstood many wars over the centuries, including this present one that gripped the entire world. Standing at the window, Ada gazed at the autumn leaves floating down in golden showers on to the lawn that sloped down to the sea. With an unexpected surge of emotion, Ada felt a rush of love for Mary Vale, which had never failed those who entered its walls. It was a place she loved with all her heart, in a country that millions were fighting to save from tyranny. A land where she hoped her daughter, sleeping peacefully in the nursery, would grow up free and where families destroyed by war would be reunited.

‘Life will go on and love will return,’ Ada prayed.

As the low-lying autumn light slanted through the falling leaves, she quietly hummed to herself, We’ll meet again … one sunny day.

Then, smiling, Ada went about her daily duties.

Acknowledgements