Free Nightingale by Fiona McIntosh

now?’
    â€˜The Turks lost thousands of men the other day. Terrible scenes, apparently. All those corpses and this heat – it’s a dangerous mix.’
    â€˜And what, they’re going to call a truce so —?’
    â€˜So they can clear the dead, yes,’ he said, dragging in a lungful of tobacco from the tiny stub of a cigarette he had left between his fingers. ‘Strange to have it so quiet, isn’t it?’
    She blew out a short gust of despair. ‘How ironic.’
    â€˜I know. Listen, Claire, when we get into Cairo next, are you due any leave?’
    She lifted a shoulder. ‘Yes, probably.’ She looked away from him, knowing what was coming, and was already formulating an excuse.
    â€˜How about —’ he began.
    â€˜Nurse Nightingale!’
    They both turned at the voice.
    Were the gods toying with her? ‘Jamie,’ she murmured and felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure and intense relief to see the smiling, bleeding Anzac waving to her from the other side of the deck.
    The doctor turned back to her. ‘You know him?’
    She was sure she was grinning like a loon. ‘Er . . . yes, our families know each other,’ she said, hardly daring to believe such a whopping lie had slipped out with ease. ‘I thought he’d died,’ she added, hoping it explained her happiness. She moved away from the rail, crossing the deck towards Jamie before she could get herself in any deeper.
    Wren approached, still smiling crookedly.
    â€˜You took my advice,’ she said, beaming.
    He nodded. ‘Can’t gallop a horse properly or bowl an off spin without my arm.’
    â€˜How’s your hearing, by the way? You were obviously close to the explosion.’
    â€˜Bit dulled but I was lucky to be thrown clear. It will pass.’
    She nodded. ‘All right, then. Shall we see to your arm?’
    He looked back over his shoulder at the line of shuffling men who were being gradually moved below deck.
    â€˜It’s fine. Follow me.’ She led Jamie down a different set of stairs and another two flights to a ward that was near enough silent. ‘Most in here won’t live out the voyage,’ she whispered. Claire nodded at the nurse on duty. ‘I can keep an eye on things here. Go have a breather.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Tell Rosie I don’t mind cold tea. I’ll pick it up in a few minutes. I’m just going to dress this man’s wound.’
    Her fellow nurse blinked in slight confusion but Claire was counting on her being too weary to argue that this was not the normal way of things.
    â€˜This is Jamie Wren. Can’t believe it – our families knew each other when we were children,’ she said.
    The nurse, as she presumed, was not interested and turned to leave. ‘All quiet for now but fifth cot along, he’s struggling. His name’s Colin.’
    They heard her footsteps retreat.
    â€˜Why did you lie?’ he asked.
    She needed a moment to work out why too. ‘Sit down. Let’s get that jacket off.’ As she helped him, she explained. ‘It was easier than admitting why I was breaking all the rules.’
    â€˜You didn’t have to —’
    â€˜I know,’ she said. ‘I wanted to.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Right, I can’t look at your face all filthy like that. Just let me gather up some stuff.’
    She pulled a tray over towards her and moved around the supplies area, reaching for various items and pouring a tiny amount of water into a kidney bowl.
    Rosie arrived unexpectedly, holding out a tin mug of tea. ‘I knew you wouldn’t go back and fetch it,’ she said but her gaze cut to Claire’s patient and her light green eyes glinted with mischief. ‘Well, hello, handsome,’ she said, turning on her most radiant smile. ‘Aren’t you the chosen one?’
    â€˜Our families —’ Claire