‘Of course. I’ll probably put out the flags, too!’ She smiled, but Sam’s face was serious.

‘I promise,’ she said.

CHAPTER FORTY

Private Gordon was making real progress. His stammer had improved, he looked Grace in the eye when she spoke, and most significant of all, he had taken his first steps.

This morning he had managed to totter all the way out to the terrace, leaning heavily on his friend Albie Sallis’ arm. He and Albie sat side by side on a bench in the cool March morning, Gordon listening as Albie chattered nineteen to the dozen, holding forth about what lay beyond the hospital railings.

‘There’s no place like the East End, mate, believe me,’ he was saying. ‘Once you’re properly on your feet, I’m going to take you down Brick Lane for pie and mash. Maybe some jellied eels too, if you fancy ’em. Now don’t pull a face like that, not till you’ve tried ’em.’ He looked up at Grace. ‘You ever had jellied eels, Nurse?’

‘I can’t say I have, Corporal Sallis.’ Grace smiled back as she tucked in a rug around a patient in a wheelchair.

‘Then you’ll have to come with us. We’ll have a proper beano. What do you say, mate?’ He grinned at Gordon, who smiled vacantly back at him.

‘I think jellied eels sound perfectly foul,’ Dulcie announced from the other end of the terrace, where she was settling another patient.

‘That’s ’cos you’re too lah-di-dah,’ Albie called back. ‘I bet you wouldn’t say no to a plate of oysters at a fancy restaurant, would you?’

‘Of course not. But that’s different.’

‘I don’t see how. They both come out of the sea, don’t they?’

‘Well, I won’t be coming on your outing if jellied eels are on the menu,’ Dulcie announced.

‘I don’t recall you being invited.’

Grace looked from one to the other of them, and an idea occurred to her.

‘Can you manage by yourself for a moment?’ she asked Dulcie.

She looked up, a rug in her hands. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

‘I just have to talk to someone, that’s all.’

‘Can’t it wait?’ Dulcie said, but Grace was already heading for the French doors.

‘Don’t be long,’ she heard Dulcie calling across the terrace. ‘I don’t see why I should have to do everything …’

Dulcie had been in a foul mood in the past few days. Grace thought it must have something to do with the fact that Dr Logan still hadn’t noticed her, in spite of her best efforts.

Sometimes Grace cringed at Dulcie’s determination to flirt with him. She seemed so desperate and heavy-handed. But then again, Grace had never flirted with anyone in her life, so she was hardly qualified to comment. For all she knew, it might be the right way to go about attracting a man’s attention.

She thought about Noah Wells. Another letter had come for her the previous day, written in his careful hand.

Grace supposed they must be love letters of a sort, even though they were mainly about slurry spreading, and how he had finished sowing the sugar beet. She did her best to read some poetry and meaning between the lines, but in the end she had to admit that Noah Wells was too straightforward for all that nonsense.