We Shall Not Sleep_ A Novel - Anne Perry [43]
Her face was blazing and she knew it. He had touched a nerve in her, and without knowing why, she felt a passionate need to defend the vulnerability she had seen so often. “Of course I’m not!” She was shouting at him, although she had not meant to. She heard herself and could not stop. “We are all…” Now she did not know what to say, and he was still staring at her.
“You do not want to betray anyone whose weakness you have seen and understood,” he finished for her. “You protect one another. As well as showing loyalty, and honor to men on whose courage your life may depend, you cannot afford to antagonize them.” There was gentleness in his face, even pity. “You will have to work with them in the future, and with the other women who may love them, or hate them. But I remind you, Miss Reavley, that you will also work with the other women who may become their victims in the future. I can see that you have a very terrible conflict as to where your duty lies.”
“No, I don’t!” she said hotly. “I don’t know anything!”
He did not believe her. She could see it in his eyes, and in the slight smile touching his mouth. She must control herself or he would be even more certain that she was lying. She stood rigidly upright, her hands by her sides, touching the seam in her skirt, as a soldier would stand to attention. “If I should learn anything that would help you, Mr. Jacobson, I shall inform you of it immediately. Is that all? Because if it is, I would like to get back to my duties.”
“For the moment, Miss Reavley. But please remain here. I will wish to speak to you again.”
“Unless I am needed,” she told him. And before he could protest, she turned and marched out. There were duties to do. Nurses were always shorthanded, and the men needed more care than they could give.
It was midmorning when she found Lizzie Blaine unpacking medical supplies. She did not know the woman well; Lizzie had moved into St. Giles with her husband after Judith had already left for France. She had heard of her from Joseph, and the one or two times they had met here she had liked her instinctively. Lizzie had a penetrating honesty that made Judith comfortable, because it not only was directed at others, but was also within herself. She made no excuses and never shifted blame, and neither her friendship nor her courage was ostentatious.
“Can I help?” Judith offered.
“Please.” Lizzie pointed to an unopened box. “You’ll have to check that everything is what it says. They get put in the wrong places sometimes.” She glanced at Judith again, frowning a little. “You all right? You look a bit upset.”
“Furious!” Judith said sharply as she bent to the box. “I’ve just been talking to Jacobson, the policeman. He misunderstood everything I said, and I wound up talking too much, and now he thinks I know more than I do.”
“That’s stupid.” Lizzie turned back to the unpacking. “You’d hardly defend anyone you knew was guilty!”
“That’s not what he thinks,” Judith explained. “I suppose I could lie about a small incident that looked bad, but I hadn’t believed it really was. The man just doesn’t understand what friendship is out here, and it made me angry.”
Lizzie smiled. “And then you felt guilty for that? I know what you mean.”
“I suppose we all do.” Judith started to unpack the box, looking at each item carefully. “But things like that don’t happen out of the blue. Whoever it is must have bothered other people from time to time, even if it was only stupid remarks or