Amy by Peggy Savage Page A

do. Her own problems were of another time, another place. She would deal with those when the time came. She walked back to the hotel, took off her hat and jacket and walked down to the officers’ ward.
    Dusk was falling as she went in and the electric light was on over Sister’s desk, set at the far end. The little oasis of light reminded her of home. She felt a stab of homesickness, missing her father, missing the house, the garden, the town. Most of all it reminded her of her father,sitting in his study in his own pool of light, marking his students’ work, endlessly reading his scientific books.
    Someone turned on the overhead lights. It was quiet this evening, and peaceful. Most of the officers were lying on their beds, some reading , some staring at the ceiling. Two of them were sitting on the edge of one bed, playing chess. She looked around quickly but she couldn’t see the lieutenant.
    Sister smiled at her. ‘Could you help with the dressings, Amy? Nurse will show you what to do.’
    Dressings, Amy thought. My promotion. She rolled up her sleeves and put on a white apron and cuffs. She and the staff nurse moved from bed to bed, changing the dressings. Many of them were infected, the bandages sodden and foul and the dressings had to be changed every four hours. Some of them made her gag, the pus foul and running. She tried to think of other things, of the scent of the roses in the garden at home, and again, the sweet scent of her father’s occasional pipe tobacco.
    There were screens around the bed nearest to Sister’s desk.
    ‘We don’t need to go in there,’ the nurse said. ‘He’s just come back from theatre. He has a nurse with him.’
    It must be him, Amy thought. His handsome, ravaged face came back to her. She realized with a jolt that he had been in her thoughts for most of the day. What had happened to him in theatre? Not his leg. Surely he hadn’t lost his leg. He was a free spirit; somehow she knew that. He should be running, riding a fine horse, climbing a mountain. Please no, not his leg.
    They finished the dressing round and Sister glanced at her watch. ‘Dr Hanfield is coming to do a round shortly,’ she said. ‘We’d better get the men into bed.’ The beds were neatened and the men tucked in, jackets buttoned up, hair combed.
    Dr Hanfield arrived and Sister took her on a round of the beds. Amy watched their progress. Dr Hanfield looked calm and cheerful, but Amy could see the lines of strain around her eyes and her mouth. She must have been operating all day, Amy thought, ever since she had spoken to her that morning. Captain Fielding should have been impressed. They came at last to the screened bed.
    ‘Excuse me, Doctor,’ Amy said.
    Sister looked severe. ‘What do you want, Amy?’ she began, but DrHanfield stopped her.
    ‘What is it, Amy?’
    ‘This officer,’ Amy said. ‘I brought him in today. I just wondered….’
    Dr Hanfield smiled. ‘He’s been very lucky. The bullet chipped the bone but the femur is intact. We got the bullet out and cleaned up the wound.’ Amy knew what that would be like, fragments of clothing and skin and muscle and earth and horse dung.
    ‘He’s lost a lot of blood,’ Dr Hanfield went on, ‘But he’s young and strong. He’ll be all right as long as it doesn’t get infected.’
    ‘What about tetanus?’ Amy said. ‘They were working on a tetanus antitoxin….’ She knew that she shouldn’t have said it, but it just came out. She was hungry for news about medicine, cut off from The Lancet and the other journals that she used to read so avidly.
    Dr Hanfield looked surprised. ‘They are,’ she said. ‘But we don’t quite have it yet. Very soon, we hope. How do you know about that? Is your father a doctor?’
    Amy was shaken. She had almost made another mistake. ‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s a teacher. He teaches science and he’s very interested in medicine.’
    ‘I see.’ Dr Hanfield looked thoughtful. ‘Do you know Lieutenant