Anger surged inside him, scorching through his veins. God, how he wanted to get away from here, never to have another nurse around him, to see the pity in their eyes and hear the cloying sympathy in their voices. He wanted to stand on his own two feet again, not suffer the humiliation of having to beg for a bottle to pee in, of having a young girl washing him like an overgrown baby.

Most of all, he wanted to go home.

He turned his gaze to the window, its panes rimmed with frost. His father would be bringing the cows down from the fields by now, if he hadn’t already done it. If Sam closed his eyes, he could almost see John Trevelyan, a battered old hat perched on his grizzled head, pushing through the heavy cattle, herding them into the byres. He had turned sixty but no one would ever think it to see him, strong and wiry as he was, his skin baked brown from years of working outside. He toiled every bit as hard as the young farmhands, and could even give Sam a run for his money when they worked side by side …

He flinched, turning away from the window, shutting out the memory. He could never allow himself to go back there, not even in his mind.

Not after what had happened.

At the far end of the ward the nurses started to disperse, ready to start their various daily tasks. Soon they would be busying themselves, sweeping and dusting and polishing every surface in sight, pushing their clanking trolleys up and down the ward, laden with dressings and medicines. They would bustle about with fresh sheets, haul him and the others out of their beds, set about them with soap and flannels, comb their hair and lift them on to bedpans. No humiliation would be spared.

It was the curly-haired girl’s turn to do the washing round today. Sam didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. At least she didn’t bother to try and talk to him like the tall one did. She barely spared any of the men a second look most of the time, let alone a kind word.

She seemed so completely indifferent, Sam couldn’t help admiring her for it.

The only person who roused her interest was the new doctor, Logan. Sam noticed how she looked out for him every morning. How disappointed she was when he wasn’t there! And if he was, she would follow him like a puppy, inventing excuses to talk to him. Watching her was the only amusement Sam ever got on the ward.

But at least it meant she left the other one, Dr Wallace, alone. The poor sap still looked quite bewildered about it, although his fiancée was clearly relieved …

He checked himself angrily. What was he thinking, letting himself get carried away by the petty dramas going on around him? It was none of his damn business.

But he had to have something to occupy his mind while he was trapped in here. Either that or go slowly mad.