Scarlet liked Ellie more as every minute passed. ‘How about you? Do you have a special someone? A sweetheart away fighting?’
Ellie laughed and it made Scarlet smile again. ‘Ask me that again after I’ve been surrounded by gorgeous doctors and soldiers. If I can’t find me a dashing man while I’m nursing, I don’t reckon I’ll ever find one.’
Scarlet laughed again. ‘So that’s the truth? You’ve joined up to find a husband?’ She was sure Ellie was joking. She was beautiful, with glossy dark hair pinned up, a wide, full mouth and chocolate-coloured eyes. There was nothing about her that wouldn’t appeal to a man as far as Scarlet could tell, so she doubted she had to go away nursing to meet someone.
‘What can I say?’ Ellie said, slapping her hand to her heart and making them both giggle. ‘No, I’m just being silly. I’d love to come home with a husband, I’m not going to fib about that, but I want to help. Some nurse might have stitched up one of my brothers or saved one of them, and I want to do the same for someone else’s brother. I want to do my bit I suppose.’
Scarlet did, too. Even if she’d started out simply hoping to find her fiancé, becoming a nurse had changed her. Why couldn’t women be more involved in the war if it helped to bring more of their boys home in one piece? She was only nursing, doing women’s work, but many young women she’d heard about were doing so much more, things they would never have been permitted to do if it wasn’t wartime.
‘Do you know how long the journey is?’ Scarlet asked.
‘No,’ Ellie replied. ‘I want to get to where we’re staying and find out if we’re going to Europe or not.’
‘I’ve always wanted to go to France, but . . .’ Scarlet looked down and grimaced. ‘Not dressed like this or in some manly battledress.’ She had to admit that her uniform was smart, and the day she’d gone in to be measured at Harrods she’d been so proud, but the only thing to like really was the scarlet-trimmed collar of her greatcoat.
‘Do you really think they’ll send us there?’ Ellie asked. ‘I’ve heard so many rumours, but you never know.’
‘I’m sure Matron will tell us when we arrive. But maybe they’ll need us here for a bit?’ Scarlet wasn’t sure whether she wanted to stay in London or if going abroad was more appealing; truth be told she was terrified of both.
‘So, tell me about your mother,’ Scarlet asked, curious about the work of a midwife and wanting a distraction from her thoughts. ‘Did she really let you go along on visits?’
Ellie grinned. ‘What, you don’t believe me? Of course she did.’
Scarlet opened her bag up and took out a small parcel of food. They were fortunate to have more than most, and as she unwrapped the cold chicken she felt Ellie’s eyes on her.
‘Would you like to share this?’ Scarlet asked.
‘Can you hear my stomach growling?’ Ellie quipped. ‘I’d love some.’
Scarlet held it between them, content to share the cut-up pieces of cold meat. ‘We have a country house, a small farm actually, so we’ve been lucky with food,’ Scarlet confessed, knowing that Ellie was probably only just getting by on food rations from the way she’d so eagerly taken the chicken. ‘We have trees laden with fruit during summer, and we’ve kept chickens for eggs and so forth.’
Ellie nodded, taking another bite of chicken. ‘This tastes heavenly.’
Scarlet realised how grateful she should have been, how little she truly knew about suffering and making do compared to so many others.
‘If I have to eat another Woolton pie I’ll scream,’ Ellie said. ‘But this, this is amazing.’
Scarlet ate some, feeling guilty and almost ready to offer Ellie the lot. But then again she didn’t know when they’d next eat, or if they’d be given only bread and dripping like they had been at the mobilising unit. She decided to have a little and let Ellie have the rest.
‘So you really want to know about my ma?’ Ellie asked.
Scarlet nodded. ‘Please.’
She watched as Ellie pulled out a handkerchief, a plain white one with no embroidery, and dabbed the corners of her mouth. Scarlet did the same, conscious of the delicate pattern on hers and how luxurious it seemed in comparison.
‘My mother liked me to learn beside her because she learnt herself going to births with her own mother. She always told me it was women’s business and one day I’d understand it all, but that was mostly when she was helping country folk to birth at home.’
‘So you just . . .’ Scarlet cleared her throat. ‘Watched?’
‘Well, she usually kept me busy with fetching hot water and towels and running back and forth. I wasn’t sitting there staring at the baby coming out if that’s what you’re asking.’
Scarlet laughed again, felt her cheeks burn as she flushed. ‘Enough talk about birthing babies for me.’ She knew the theory about things like having babies, but she hadn’t ever talked about it openly before.
Ellie giggled and nudged her in the side. ‘I had three brothers back at home and when I went with her I felt special. All grown-up instead of a tomboy wearing my brothers’ hand-me-down clothes. It made me feel like a girl and then a woman.’
Scarlet nodded. ‘That makes perfect sense then.’ She wasn’t about to mention that she’d grown up being dressed in velvet party dresses and bronze-coloured shoes for dancing lessons and only seeing her mother when taken by Nanny. All she’d ever wanted was the freedom the village children had, even though she had been left to her own devices frequently when her parents were in town. She’d have done anything to have more attention from her own mother as a child; it hadn’t been until she was eleven that she’d even been allowed to dine with her parents at the table. She felt a twinge of jealousy thinking of Ellie spending so much time with her mother.
‘I, er, grew up with Nanny looking after me. She did everything for us and even though I adored her, I would have loved to spend more time with my mother.’
‘Even delivering babies?’ Ellie teased.
‘Yes,’ Scarlet admitted, knowing she was telling the truth. ‘Even that.’
‘So what if you were sick? Or upset? Who did you go to?’
‘Nanny,’ Scarlet said, nodding even as Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Mother would have been more likely to tell me I was being tiresome if I complained about feeling ill.’
‘So no cuddles in bed with your mother?’ Ellie asked, looking more shocked about this revelation than seeing the cold chicken on offer earlier. ‘Bedtime stories?’