Oh! My father had never said anything so kind about me in my whole life, at least not that I’d heard. Although worried about my mother, I felt myself glowing with pleasure.

He turned to our three-day-domestic. ‘Thank you, Mrs Cooper. After all your hard work, you may take a little time off now that my daughter’s home.’

Mrs Cooper nodded at my father, then at me. I was not too sure that she was pleased, until father said she would still be paid, then a smile lifted her apple cheeks.

‘Thank you, Doctor. I’ll just help Miss Gertie get Mrs Smith into bed, then I’ll be off.’ She spoke to my father with such reverence, I thought she was going to curtsy.

*

I let Mrs Cooper out at nine o’clock. I had been into town for some supplies, and was pleased to see several acquaintances, but they treated me like a stranger. They were the same people I had left only six months before, yet it seemed their lives had moved on in my absence. Was I foolish to imagine the world would have waited, unchanged, for my return? Before I left, excited friends would rush to embrace me and chatter excitedly about the minutiae of their lives. Now, they were distant. This left me with a peculiar, yet intense, feeling of loneliness. That evening, my back ached and I was bone tired. I found Father in his armchair, reading.

‘I’m going to bed, Father. I can’t keep my eyes open.’ I kissed his cheek.

‘Wait, Gertie. Pour me a brandy, and a small one for yourself.’

‘Me? Father! I don’t think that’s appropriate.’

‘Stuff and nonsense. This is 1917. I do believe young people partake occasionally. Besides, I want to talk and there is nothing like a good cognac for loosening the tongue.’

I poured him a drink, and a small one for me too. This personal moment with my father strengthened my morale. For the first time, I realised he no longer considered me an irresponsible child. I found it difficult, even after all that had happened, not to grin like the organ-grinder’s monkey.

‘Matron told me she’s very pleased with your progress, Gertie.’

‘She’s a marvellous woman and I wish to model my future on her. As I said in my letter, she promoted me to the theatre and though I’m not as yet a qualified theatre nurse, I’ve learned various sutures and it seems to have become my job to take care of the outer sutures, to close a wound after surgery and also apply the dressings. This leaves the surgeon free to move on to the next case. Through this recent work, I have discovered where my aspirations lie.’ I stopped and took a breath. ‘Can I tell you my dream, Father?’