They started up the road. Grace was grimly silent, and Dulcie could tell she was punishing herself over Captain Jeffers’ disappearance.

‘I didn’t mean it,’ Dulcie said. ‘It isn’t really your fault.’

‘But you’re right, I was the one who insisted we should go to the pie and mash shop.’ Grace’s voice was choked. ‘I wish I knew why he ran away.’

‘I think I know,’ Dulcie said.

Grace looked at her sharply. ‘What?’

‘It was the boarding. He was worried he was going to be sent back to France.’

‘He said that to you? That he was worried?’

‘He said he would throw himself under a train before he let it—’ Dulcie stopped speaking abruptly. She could see the same realisation dawning on Grace’s face.

They had reached the hospital gates.

‘Get the men back to the ward,’ Grace said.

‘On my own?’

‘The porters in the lodge will fetch an orderly to help you.’

She shifted the weight of the man she had been helping and propped him against the hospital railings.

‘Where are you going?’ Dulcie called after her.

‘To find Captain Jeffers. And I think I know where to look …’

It took a long time to get the men back to the ward. Miss Parker was utterly furious, and because Dulcie was the only one there, she suffered the brunt of Sister’s rage.

‘Get these men into hot baths immediately,’ she instructed the VADs. ‘And I want dry clothes for them all, and hot water bottles in their beds.’ She shook her head. ‘I shall certainly be having words with Dr Logan when he returns.’

‘He couldn’t help the rain, Sister. Or the air raid,’ Dulcie pointed out, then wished she hadn’t as Miss Parker turned her icy blue gaze on her.

‘And you say one of the men is missing?’ she snapped.

‘Captain Jeffers, Sister.’

Miss Parker gave a heavy sigh. ‘It’s too bad, it really is. I suspected this outing was a bad idea, and it looks as if I was right.’ She glared at Dulcie. ‘I just hope for all your sakes that this man is found soon, or Matron will have something to say about it. And the War Office too, I should imagine. And frankly, I don’t know which I would fear most!’

Dulcie left her fussing over the men and trailed miserably back down the corridor. Her new shoes squelched unpleasantly with every step and cold rain dripped from the sagging brim of her now ruined hat, running down the back of her neck.

It never occurs to Sister that I might get pneumonia, she thought furiously. If anyone needed a hot bath, dry clothes and a warm bed, she did. As it was, she would probably get another telling-off from the Home Sister for treading mud on the parquet floor.

As she passed Monaghan ward, she heard someone calling her name. She turned to see Lottie Jones, one of the VADs, hurrying towards her.

‘I thought I spotted you going by,’ she said. ‘I was clearing out Sergeant Trevelyan’s locker earlier on and I found this …’ She held up a small package, haphazardly wrapped in newspaper. ‘I thought he might have left it behind but then I saw it had your name on it.’