‘So,’ she said. ‘You come from Cornwall, do you?’

He looked up at her sharply. ‘Who told you that?’

‘I heard you telling Nurse Duffield.’ She glanced sideways. Sister was still deep in conversation with Dr French. ‘I’m from the west country myself.’

‘You’re a long way from home.’

‘Yes, and that’s just how I like it.’ The words came out without her thinking. Then, seeing Sam’s look of surprise, Dulcie said, ‘I much prefer the city. That’s why I became a nurse, so I could move to London.’

‘And there was me, thinking it was your caring nature.’

Sister was coming, her flat feet plodding down the ward. Dulcie swung round, searching for something purposeful to do.

‘I’ll tidy your locker, shall I?’

‘There’s no need …’

‘It’s no trouble.’ She bent down to open the door.

‘I said, leave it!’

But by then she had already found the flat leather box. ‘What’s this?’

‘Put it back.’

‘But what is it?’

She heard Sam’s angry sigh as she started to lift the lid. Inside the box was a gleaming silver medal bearing an image of King George, on a crimson, white and blue ribbon.

‘Oh, my goodness, where did you get this?’

He didn’t reply. Dulcie removed the medal from its box. It felt cool and heavy in her palm.

She turned it over to read the inscription on the back.

‘For bravery in the field …’

No sooner had the words left her lips than Sam snatched the medal out of her hands. He shut it back in the box and tossed it carelessly to the back of his locker.

‘Why did they give you a medal?’ Dulcie asked.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He slammed the locker door.

‘Why are you hiding it away? You should be proud.’

‘What do you know about it?’ For a brief second, Dulcie caught a look of unguarded pain in his green eyes, before the mask descended again. ‘I’m tired,’ he said. ‘Go away and bother someone else.’

‘But—’ Dulcie started to say. But Sam’s eyes were already closed.

For the rest of the day Dulcie couldn’t stop thinking about the medal in Sam Trevelyan’s locker. In the end, she decided to ask Staff Nurse Hanley about it. The senior staff nurse came from a military family and took a great interest in such things.

‘It sounds like the Military Medal,’ said Nurse Hanley, when Dulcie described it to her. ‘It’s a gallantry award, given to NCOs for particular acts of bravery. It’s really quite an honour to receive one.’

Dulcie thought of the medal, thrown carelessly into the back of Sam Trevelyan’s locker.

‘What kind of bravery?’ she asked.

‘Well, it depends … They usually publish the information in the London Gazette, if that’s any help?’ Staff Nurse Hanley frowned. ‘Why are you so interested, Nurse?’

Dulcie glanced back at Sam Trevelyan. He was awake again now, his eyes fixed unseeingly on the ceiling. His face was a set mask.