Not that he would ever have met her father’s standards, Anna thought. But at least the bread was getting made every morning, and he was willing to work for the pittance she could afford to pay him. All the same, she wished Papa or Edward could be there to keep an eye on him. A day under Friedrich Beck’s watchful eye would have knocked him into shape.

She finished her letter to Tom, then tucked it carefully inside the parcel of chocolate and cigarettes she had wrapped for him. She placed it on the mantelpiece next to the identical package she had prepared for Edward.

She sat back and stretched out her arms, then glanced at the clock. It was twenty-five-past four, and she was due on duty at five o’clock. She was already dreading the thought of heading out in the rain again. She had barely dried out from her last soaking.

She was in the common room, trying to dry her shoes out in front of the fire, when she heard the front door open. The next moment she caught sight of a flurry of navy blue cap through the open common-room doorway as Grace rushed past, heading for the stairs.

‘I hope you’re not running, Duffield?’ Anna laughed. ‘You know what Sister says. Only in the case of fire or haemorrhage—’

She broke off at the sight of Grace turning round to stand in the common-room doorway. She looked even more dishevelled than usual. Most of her hair had managed to escape its restraining pins and now hung in damp strands around her face. There were holes in both knees of her black woollen stockings, exposing grazed, dirty skin. She had tripped and fallen again. It was nothing unusual for Duffield. The knees of her stockings were permanently darned.

But it was her ashen face that stopped Anna in her tracks.

‘Duffield, what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

She saw the sympathy in her friend’s hazel eyes and dread settled in her stomach like a cold, hard stone.

‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Tell me!’

‘Oh, Anna,’ Grace whispered. ‘It’s Edward …’

Gas poisoning.

They were the only two words Anna heard. She saw Miss Sutton’s mouth moving, but didn’t take in the rest of what she said.

She had run all the way back to the hospital, not even stopping to put on her cape. By the time she arrived on the ward she was a soaking mess, her hair hanging loose, starched cuffs missing and collar unbuttoned.

Miss Sutton met her in the doorway. ‘Good God, Beck, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t come on duty dressed like that.’ She pointed a stubby finger back towards the doors. ‘Go and explain to Matron why you—’

‘Edward Stanning,’ Anna cut across her. ‘Where is he?’

Miss Sutton’s tiny raisin eyes blinked at her in disbelief. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Edward Stanning.’ She craned her neck to see past Sister’s shoulder. ‘He’s my fiancé.’