We Shall Not Sleep_ A Novel - Anne Perry [58]
“They have,” Judith replied. “My brother.”
Erica was incredulous. “The chaplain? That’s idiotic!”
“No, Matthew. He’s an intelligence officer.” She had no compunction at all about shading the truth. “He’s out here on some mission or other, which of course he can’t tell us, and they don’t believe him. He can’t prove it because it’s secret. That’s what intelligence is about.”
“So what are you going to do?” Erica’s face was tense and anxious. “You could ask questions, of course, but what makes you think anyone will tell you something they haven’t told the police? Not that I’m saying you shouldn’t try.” There was an uncharacteristic flash of sympathy in her eyes, perhaps because she thought Judith would not succeed.
Erica’s pity only made it worse, and a flare of temper burned up in Judith. “Because I know what questions to ask,” she snapped. “For example, before anything happened, who was Sarah nursing? Did she flirt with any of the doctors or orderlies?” She saw Erica’s distaste. “And don’t screw your face up and pretend it couldn’t happen. We’re all frightened and tired and sick with seeing people suffer, and we can’t do much to help them. We don’t get close to anyone for long because people are moved around all the time, lots of them die, but we still can’t help the need for touching someone, emotionally or physically. Life can be too hard, too unbearably lonely without it. Friendship is almost the only lifeline to sanity and the things that are worth surviving for.”
Erica stared at her, her eyes shadowed, her lips pulled tight. She looked as if her mind was racing and she wanted to speak, but the words eluded her.
“Well, who was she nursing?” Judith repeated. “Don’t tell me you don’t know, because you do! You are in charge and you never miss anything. You’re the most efficient nurse on the whole Ypres Salient. Did she go anywhere near the German prisoners? I haven’t seen the rosters, but we both know they don’t mean anything. People go where they’re needed. An emergency happens and everything changes.”
“It’s not on the roster,” Erica said reluctantly. “But I’m pretty sure she did. We had a bit of a panic about one of the Germans who lost an arm. Thought he was going to bleed to death. Another one had a mangled foot, but he’s recovering quite well. We lost a couple, but we never had much of a chance of saving them anyway. They were bad when they got here.”
“Who? Did she quarrel with anyone—flirt too much? Was she careless?” Judith rattled off the questions, hearing the demand in her own voice and knowing the answers would prove nothing. “Did she go back again afterward?”
“I wish I could say she did, but she stayed pretty much with our own,” Erica replied. She stood stiffly; her gray dress was soiled and very crumpled, but she carried herself with such a high head and ramrod back that on her it had a kind of style. “Mary Castalet did most of the nursing for the Germans,” she continued. “There are only a few here, you know. About eight. Anyone fit to move got sent on. We need the beds. Some of them are on the floor anyway, poor creatures.”
Her elegant face puckered in distress. “I imagine having fought for four years out here, losing the war, terrified that your wife and children will be treated pretty much the way you treated the Belgians, and then being wounded and lying on the floor of the enemy’s field hospital! I wouldn’t wish that on a dog.”
Judith refused to let her mind picture it.
“How well are they guarded, really?” she asked.
Erica thought for a moment. “Not closely,” she said, meeting Judith’s eyes levelly. “Most of them came here voluntarily. They’re wounded and they need treatment. Why would they escape and where would they go, assuming they were fit enough to go anywhere?”
Judith forced herself to ask the next question. “What about our men going in and hurting