‘Any hallucinations?’

‘Not today.’

‘Good, good.’ Dr Logan pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and looked thoughtful. ‘Let me know if there’s anything you’re concerned about, won’t you?’

‘I will, Doctor.’

Dr Logan gave Dulcie a brief nod and walked off.

‘Good morning to you, too,’ she muttered. ‘Did you see that?’ she said to Grace. ‘He barely looked at me. Honestly, I don’t know why he bothered to ask for me ’specially if all he’s going to do is ignore me!’

‘I expect he has a lot on his mind,’ Grace said mildly. ‘He has to prepare reports for the Medical Board next month. That always puts him in a bad mood.’

Dulcie knew all about the Medical Board. Every couple of months, the doctors had to submit reports on the men’s progress so they could be put before the board. They would then decide who could be passed fit.

‘It’s always difficult on this ward because the men have no physical symptoms,’ Grace explained. ‘It’s easy for the board to decide whether someone with a missing foot or a gunshot wound should be sent back to the Front. But if it’s their mind that’s been injured …’ She looked down the ward to where Dr Logan was talking to Albie Sallis. ‘A lot of the Medical Board still won’t accept neurasthenia as a diagnosis. Dr Logan and Dr Carlyle have an awful job stopping them from being sent back to fight.’

‘Have you heard about Anna Beck?’ Dulcie changed the subject abruptly. She could see Grace was getting upset, and didn’t want to have to listen to her complaining about how dreadful it all was. If Grace had had her way, no one would ever be sent back to France.

‘What about her?’

‘She’s leaving.’

Grace looked dismayed. ‘Why? What’s happened? Is it her husband?’

‘As far as I know, she’s decided to go back to the bakery.’ Dulcie frowned. ‘Why did you ask about her husband?’

‘No reason,’ Grace mumbled. But Dulcie could see the colour flooding her friend’s face.

‘Duffield—’

‘I’d better get on.’ Grace rushed off, tripping over her shoelaces in her rush to get away.

Dulcie stared after her. What was that about? she wondered.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

On Anna’s last day at the Nightingale, the other nurses surprised her with a tea party.

‘You didn’t think we’d let you go without a proper goodbye, did you?’ Dulcie had said, as they marched her down to the local café.

All the girls from her original set were there – Dulcie, Grace, Miriam, even Sadie Sedgewick had taken time off to join them. She looked smart in her dark blue district nurse’s uniform, her leather Gladstone bag at her feet.

The only one missing was Anna’s former room-mate Eleanor Copeland, who was still serving with the Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service in Mesopotamia.

‘Look at us, all together again.’ Grace smiled around the table. ‘Can you believe it’s three years since we first started our training? I don’t know about you, but I didn’t think I’d make it through the first day, let alone six weeks of preliminary training!’