The Furies (24 page)

‘I was just coming to see you, Captain,' he said. ‘I remember you saying you came from a prison camp a little west of here?'

‘That's right. Why do you ask?'

Huber pointed at the Austrian soldier. ‘Because that boy was transferred from a prison camp from the same area.'

Gabriel turned to Elspeth and she nodded at him to go over. The soldier – a young boy only sixteen, or possibly seventeen, years old – looked up as Gabriel approached: his eyes opened wide.

‘Captain Bayer!'

Gabriel squatted down next to the stretcher. The youth was grinning with recognition, but at first Gabriel could not remember him. He saw that the boy's left hand had been amputated – the sleeve of his jacket was pinned back to cover the stump – and there was a long scar in the side of his neck, but try as he might Gabriel could not recall his case.

‘It's Private Arbus, sir,' the youth said, sitting up and removing his jacket with his good arm. ‘You operated on me in the field hospital before it became the prison laager?' He waved the stump of his left arm in the air.

As he studied the young man's face and stump, fragments of memory begin to re-assemble in Gabriel's brain: a frightened-looking youth; a shattered hand and forearm with the brilliant white of bone protruding through purplish skin; the smell of decay. The details were vague, the memories blurry.

‘Um…'

‘You do remember me, sir, don't you?' the youth implored. ‘They all said it was a miracle I survived.'

And now the details flooded back: a young private hit by machine gun fire in the neck and hand; a tourniquet applied for too long; gas gangrene of the hand and forearm; the orderlies saying, ‘Leave him, he won't live.' But Gabriel had stitched the neck wound and amputated at the forearm and the boy had survived.

‘Of course: Private Arbus.'

The young soldier looked relieved. ‘I'm very glad to see you, Captain. It's good to know you're alive.'

Several thoughts quickly flashed through Gabriel's mind. ‘Have you come from the camp?' he asked.

‘Yes, sir. I developed an abscess in the stump, and Lieutenant Schwann arranged for me to be transferred—'

‘Schwann? Karl Schwann is alive, you say?'

‘Yes, Captain; alive and well. Dr Schwann had typhus several weeks ago and he survived. But we didn't know what had happened to you, sir. When Corporal Sparmacher returned and told us you had collapsed with typhus—'

‘Klaus is well?'

Arbus grinned. ‘Oh yes, sir; Corporal Sparmacher is very well. It would take more than typhus to finish off that old dog.'

Gabriel got to his feet and for a moment felt dizzy – whether from standing up too quickly or from relief he couldn't tell and didn't care. He turned towards Elspeth and saw from her expression that she had not understood their conversation. ‘He's just given me some very good news,' he explained, a grin on his face. ‘Our physician, who was very ill with typhus, has survived.'

‘Oh, I'm very pleased for you, Captain,' she said, and he could see from the shine in her eyes that she really was. Then he glanced down at Arbus again and saw that the smile on the young soldier's face had disappeared, replaced by a darker, more serious look. Straightaway Gabriel knew the significance of the look and he squatted beside Arbus again.

‘Tell me,' he ordered.

Arbus hesitated. Then: ‘It's Lieutenant Flieger, sir.'

Gabriel felt the air leave his lungs. He knew what Arbus was about to say, and, wanting to delay the news, he bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Then finally he lifted his head and opened his eyes again.

‘Typhus?'

Arbus nodded. ‘I'm sorry, sir.'

Gabriel stood up and covered his face with his hands. After hearing such good news about Schwann, it seemed so cruel, so unfair. Poor Peter, his wife, his children—

‘Bad news as well, Captain?' Elspeth said, breaking through his thoughts.

She had walked forward and he could feel her standing beside him. His hands fell by his sides, but he kept his face turned away from her as he gave a simple nod.

‘One of your colleagues?'

He was still looking away from her as he replied. ‘Lieutenant Flieger is…was…my First Surgeon. He wasn't yet thirty. Married. Five children…'

His voice petered out as he felt her hand touch his shoulder, her fingers resting lightly on the epaulette of his jacket. The tenderness of this gesture so moved him that finally he turned to look at her, into the clear blue of her eyes, which seemed to shimmer with understanding. She held his gaze for only an instant, but in that moment he felt something pass between them: the euphoria at the report of Karl's survival, followed so quickly by the news of Peter's death…it was as if his whole view of life had been flipped upside down. Previously he had been solely obsessed with progressing his career as a surgeon. But now it felt as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes: never before had he been so aware of the precious nature of time, the importance of friendship, of family, of love: he felt engulfed by this flash of insight. And now he had a strong sense of destiny about being here, in this place, at this time, with her.

But she was already looking away from him, inspecting the stump of Arbus's arm. Then, avoiding his gaze, she turned to Huber.

‘It's a stump abscess and can wait until tomorrow's list,' she said. Then as an aside to Gabriel, and still without looking at him: ‘We'd better examine these other two.'

He stepped past her towards the first Serbian soldier, who had a full-length bandage on his lower leg. ‘He may be lousy, so it's safer if I do it,' Gabriel said. He knelt beside the man and un-wrapped the bandage, all the while aware of Elspeth's presence behind him.

‘That can also wait until tomorrow's list,' she said, peering over his shoulder.

‘I agree,' he said, but she had already turned towards the last soldier. Gabriel stood and walked past her, then knelt beside the man who had a bloodstained turban bandage wrapped around his hand. He carefully peeled it away to reveal the last three fingers of the soldier's hand, which were twisted and dry, blackened like scorched twigs on the end of a fire-burnt tree branch.

‘It's dry gangrene,' she said. ‘It can also wait until tomorrow's list.'

He nodded and stood up. She was still evading his gaze, and suddenly he realised that she, like him, must have felt something pass between them. He saw her turn to Huber.

‘You can shave and delouse them, then have them taken straight up to the surgical ward.' She paused for a moment. ‘I think we're done for the day,' she announced to the room. Gabriel's pulse quickened as she walked towards the door. ‘I'll see you tomorrow morning, Captain Bayer,' she said without turning to look at him, before slipping into the corridor.

***

‘I need to speak with Captain Bayer,' Huber said to Elspeth.

It was a lunchtime in early April, three weeks since Gabriel had begun working at the school hospital, and Elspeth was just leaving the operating theatre after another full morning of surgery. Gabriel was still changing out of his surgical gown inside the converted classroom behind her when Huber, accompanied by one of the Serbian guards, had caught her in the corridor outside.

‘What do you want him for?' Elspeth asked Huber.

‘We're to take Captain Bayer to Dr Chesney immediately,' Huber replied, glancing at the guard standing beside him. ‘She says she wants to speak to him right away.'

At that moment Gabriel appeared in the doorway, still buttoning his uniform jacket. Elspeth knew he must have heard Huber's words as she saw him frown at the sight of the guard before turning towards her.

‘Do you know why she wants to see me?' he asked her.

‘No,' Elspeth replied. She felt mystified at the presence of the guard. ‘She never mentioned it to me this morning.' She turned back to Huber. ‘Did Dr Chesney say what it was about?'

‘
Nein
,' Huber replied with a shake of his head. ‘Just that we must bring Captain Bayer to her office right away.'

‘Oh well,' Gabriel said, an accepting smile on his face. ‘Dr Chesney's the chief, so I'd better go see what she wants.'

Elspeth shrugged. ‘Alright. I'll see you back in theatre after lunch.' Gabriel nodded, then followed Huber and the guard along the corridor towards the chief medical officer's room.

I wonder what she wants to speak to him about, Elspeth mused as she descended the staircase and walked towards the canteen. Dr Chesney – who had just recovered from bronchitis – had temporarily taken over the post of chief medical officer from Dr Soltau, who had returned to England to convalesce after a nasty bout of diphtheria. Dr Elsie Inglis would be coming out to take over the role of chief medical officer next month, but until then Dr Chesney would be in charge.

However, Elspeth knew that Dr Chesney was unhappy about the fact that Gabriel – as a man, and an Austrian one at that – had been assisting her in theatre. Well too bad, thought Elspeth: Gabriel had been a great help to her over the past three weeks.

But during those weeks, Elspeth had often thought about that incident in the triage room: when Gabriel had looked at her with such intensity that she had felt something melt inside her. It was her compassionate nature that had prompted her to go up to Gabriel, when she had seen his distress upon learning the news of his colleague's death. But the intense emotion she had felt with him at that moment had been unsettling, and whenever she relived the experience she realised that her feelings for him might be more than simple empathy for the pain of a fellow human being. She told herself not to be foolish: she hardly knew him, had only worked with him for a short time. But there was something engaging about him, an intelligent sensitivity in his eyes that – once she gazed at him – made it difficult for her to look away. She knew it was ridiculous to consider that anything could happen between them; he was, after all, an enemy of her country – a ‘Hun', as Vera had called him – even if he wasn't actually German. He was also a prisoner. She needed to get a grip and she would do. She had always been strong-willed and she would simply banish these thoughts and any feelings from her mind.

So the morning after that incident she had met him on the ward as usual, and during their round of the post-op patients her behaviour towards him had been civil but formal, her conversation polite, professional, to the point. In the operating theatre everything was as it had been before: smoothly efficient, fast, the theatre nurses praising the quality of their work. She was relieved that he made no subsequent attempt to re-kindle the emotion of that earlier moment, appearing solely focussed on the work, apparently interested only in helping her with the cases.

And that is how it had continued right up until today, although it had been a constant battle, trying to control her feelings whenever he looked at her, or – as would invariably happen – their gloved fingers touched during surgery.

She arrived in the canteen and took a light lunch with some of the VADs, before making her way back to the staircase. And then, just as she reached the top of the landing, she saw Dr Chesney advancing towards her.

‘Ah, there you are, Elspeth. I'll be working in theatre with you this afternoon.'

Elspeth clutched the bannister rail. ‘But Captain Bayer—'

‘I've arranged for the guards to escort Captain Bayer over to the First Reserve Hospital this afternoon. He's going to help Dr Anitch with his cases from now on.'

‘Oh.' A feeling of emptiness rose from the pit of her stomach.

‘Yes. To be honest with you, Elspeth, I was surprised to learn that an Austrian officer has been assisting you these past weeks. We are a Scottish Women's Hospital, and the surgery in our hospital must be seen to be performed by Scottish women, not Austrian men.'

‘But you and Eleanor were both ill, Lillian. The cases were complex and I needed a trained surgeon, not a nurse or physician. What
else
was I supposed to do?'

‘You could have spoken to Dr Anitch at the Reserve Hospital. I'm sure he could have spared you somebody.'

‘Of course I spoke to Dr Anitch,' Elspeth replied brusquely. ‘But he had nobody to spare. He was even using a medical student to assist him with his work.'

‘Well, that's exactly why I'm sending him there. Anitch has more need of him then we do now I'm recovered.'

‘But it seems so rushed, sending him away at such short notice after all the assistance he's given us—'

‘That can't be helped. Dr Anitch needs help right away, and I'm ready to return to work. Or do you have a problem with that?' She fixed Elspeth with a long, hard look.

‘I…' Elspeth hesitated and then sighed. ‘I understand.'

‘Good. Now, let's get back to work.'

She walked past Elspeth, and with a heavy heart Elspeth began to follow her back towards the operating theatre. Part of her was relieved – Gabriel's presence was a distraction – but another part of her was bereft at the thought of his leaving. And suddenly she knew she had to say goodbye to him. She stopped walking. ‘I'll join you in a minute, Lillian,' she said, turning back towards the staircase. ‘I've left my pocket watch in the canteen.'

‘Aye, I'll see you inside,' Dr Chesney replied, and then disappeared into the operating room.

But Elspeth hurried past the top of the staircase and carried on towards the orderlies' room further along the corridor. She stuck her head inside the room: nobody was in sight and Gabriel's bed, pushed up against the wall, was empty. She realised that she must have missed him and her heart sank even further as she turned back towards the operating room. But just as she was walking past the top of the staircase, she heard Gabriel's voice.

‘Dr Stewart!'

Elspeth stopped, peered over the bannister, and was pleased to see Gabriel hurrying up the stairs, a look of relief on his face.