‘And who’s going to do that? You?’ Dulcie stared at Miriam, who coloured guiltily.

‘No. Of course not,’ she muttered. ‘Is everyone here?’ she changed the subject abruptly, standing up to count heads. ‘Five, six, seven … there’s one missing. Who’s missing?’

‘Trevelyan went to the kiosk to buy cigarettes,’ Private Hobbs called out.

Miriam looked vexed. ‘I do wish he’d told me. How am I supposed to keep track of everyone when—’

‘Here I am.’ Sam Trevelyan limped towards them. ‘Sorry, Nurse.’

‘I should think so. Sit down please, Sergeant, the film is about to start.’

As it happened, Dulcie was nearest the end of the row, and the only vacant seat was beside her.

‘Did you get your cigarettes?’ she whispered to him.

Sam nodded. ‘And I got you these.’

Dulcie looked down at the box he had handed her. ‘Violet creams,’ she said.

‘Sorry there isn’t a private box to go with them. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?’

Their eyes met again, and Dulcie felt a tiny jolt of sensation.

‘Yes,’ she said, gazing at the chocolates. ‘I suppose it is.’

After the film had ended, they made their way back to the hospital. Some of the men wanted to go to the pub, but Miriam Trott was having none of it.

‘I promised Sister I would have you all back before she went off duty,’ she said primly. ‘Besides, a public house is not the place for respectable young ladies,’ she added, looking sideways at Dulcie.

‘I know that, Nurse,’ Corporal Yeoman said. ‘It’s the ones who’re not respectable we’re after. Ain’t that right?’ He turned to his fellow soldiers, who all laughed in agreement.

Dulcie thought they might have a riot on their hands, but then Sam said, ‘Nurse Trott’s right. We ought to be getting back. Unless you fancy facing up to Miss Sutton’s rage, because I certainly don’t.’

The men’s laughter died.

‘Come to think of it, I am feeling a bit tired.’ Private Hobbs feigned a yawn.

‘You could be right,’ another of the men, Sergeant Silcott, agreed. ‘Miss Sutton’s got a worse temper than my missus, and that’s saying something!’

‘You’re lucky you won’t have to put up with it for much longer,’ Corporal Yeoman said to Sam.

‘Why’s that?’ Dulcie asked.

‘Haven’t you heard?’ Sergeant Silcott said. ‘He’s got his marching orders. Ain’t that right, Sammy lad?’

Dulcie looked at Sam. ‘You’re being discharged?’

He shook his head. ‘No such luck. They’re sending me to a convalescent home, to learn to make baskets with the other old codgers.’

‘You’re being sent for extended rehabilitation,’ Miriam corrected him primly.

‘Same difference.’ Sam did not look thrilled at the prospect.

‘When are you leaving?’ Dulcie asked.

‘Not for another month. End of April, if they can find me a place.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Why? Will you miss me?’

He made it sound like a joke, but Dulcie could feel the weight of meaning behind it.

‘Promise me you’ll come and said goodbye?’ he said.