‘Good idea.’ Roger stepped aside smartly.

Once back inside the ward, Anna closed the French doors and hissed, ‘It won’t work, you know.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘This silly game you’re playing, trying to win Roger Wallace back. We can all see it, we know what’s going on.’

‘I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Dulcie said.

‘Suit yourself. As long as you know, we’re all watching you. And we won’t let you ruin things for Sylvia.’

She turned on her heel and started to walk away. ‘What about my hot sweet tea?’ Dulcie called after her.

‘Make it yourself, I’m not your servant!’ Anna threw over her shoulder.

As Dulcie watched her go, a deep voice suddenly said, ‘She’s right, you know.’

She swung round. Sam Trevelyan was the only patient within earshot. But he had his eyes closed. And besides, he never spoke to anyone.

Grace was always trying to draw him out, to coax him into conversation. But Dulcie never bothered. It suited her to treat him in silence. When he did speak, he was always so angry and bitter, she could not be doing with it.

‘Did you say something?’ she asked.

‘I said, she’s right.’ Still his eyes didn’t open. ‘You’re never going to get him back. You’re just making a fool of yourself.’

Dulcie gasped. ‘How dare you!’ And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, ‘What makes you say that?’

But it seemed Sam Trevelyan had done all the speaking he was going to do for that day. Dulcie stared at him for a moment, then she said, ‘I don’t care about your opinion, anyway. You know nothing about it.’

She flounced off to the kitchen, where Grace was making Miss Sutton’s afternoon tea.

‘What a ghastly, infuriating man!’ she fumed.

‘Which one?’

‘Sergeant Trevelyan.’ She spat out the name like poison.

Grace smiled over her shoulder. ‘Oh, dear, what’s he done now?’

Dulcie opened her mouth to tell her, then decided against it. ‘Nothing. I just don’t care for him, that’s all.’

‘He can be very difficult,’ Grace agreed. ‘But I’m sure he’s all right when you get to know him.’

‘I’m not sure I’d ever want to.’

Grace finished pouring the tea into a bone china cup, then arranged it carefully on a tray with a plate of biscuits. ‘Have you heard the news?’ she said.

‘What news?’

As Grace turned around with the tray, Dulcie snatched the teacup off it and took a quick sip.

‘Moore!’ Grace stared at her in horror. ‘Sister will go mad.’

‘She’ll have to catch me first, won’t she?’ Dulcie swiped a biscuit off the plate. ‘Go on. What news?’

‘Dr Carlyle is setting up a new ward, just for shell shock patients.’ Grace nervously eyed the fragile cup in Dulcie’s hands.

‘You call that news? I was expecting some exciting gossip.’

‘It is exciting,’ Grace insisted. ‘Dr Carlyle will be in charge, and they’re going to get a psychiatrist in to help, too.’