‘So you have, Nurse. In fact, you’ve drowned them out so effectively you’ve failed to notice they stopped several minutes ago.’

Grace paused to listen. There was only the deep, ringing silence that followed a raid.

‘He’s right,’ she whispered to Corporal Frost. ‘We can come out now, it’s quite safe.’

Grace clambered out from under the bed, painfully conscious that Dr Logan was watching her every move, and also that she was as ungainly as a newborn colt.

She helped Corporal Frost back into bed and pulled the covers around him.

‘I’ll make you a nice cup of tea,’ she promised. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

Corporal Frost nodded. He had the covers pulled up to his chin so that only his wide eyes and the ruffled top of his head were visible.

Grace made her way to the kitchen, Dr Logan striding behind her. She was in trouble, and she knew it. But for once she didn’t really care.

Dr Logan stood in the doorway, watching her as she put the kettle on.

‘How often does Corporal Frost end up under his bed?’ he asked.

‘Every time there’s an air raid.’

‘And you always get under the bed with him?’

‘Sometimes. If he’s particularly nervous.’

‘And the singing?’

‘Mostly he sings by himself, and that’s enough to calm him down. But if he’s very nervous he forgets the words, and then he gets in a terrible state. I was just helping him.’

She banged the kettle down on the hob. If he was going to give her a dressing down, she wished he would get on with it.

‘Why “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary”?’

‘Why not?’ Grace turned to face him. ‘It’s a jolly tune and Corporal Frost seems to like it. I did try “Keep the Home Fires Burning” once, but it seemed to make him rather agitated.’

‘I see.’ Dr Logan looked thoughtful for a moment, as if Grace had said something incredibly wise. Then he nodded and said, ‘Good work, Nurse. Carry on.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’

And then he was gone. Grace stared, mystified, at the now empty kitchen doorway. She couldn’t quite believe she had escaped another telling-off.

She listened to his footsteps echoing down the ward. He was humming softly to himself, she could hear the faintest sound under his echoing footsteps.

‘“It’s a long way to Tipperary, it’s a long way to go …”’

Grace smiled to herself and went back to making the tea.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Oh, Lord, not again!

Sam Trevelyan saw Nurse Moore heading purposefully down the ward towards him, pushing her trolley, and his heart sank. In the past three weeks, Dulcie Moore had decided to single him out as her pet. She lavished all kinds of unwanted attention on him, bringing him books and newspapers he never read, offering him cups of tea and trying to pester him into conversation when he plainly did not want to talk.

He had tried ignoring her and being offhand with her, but she would not go away.