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Band of Sisters(119)

Author:Lauren Willig

“You don’t have to,” said Mrs. Barrett, laughing. “You identify the need and the Red Cross will take care of the details for us. They’ve also promised us essence, immediately. I’ve been going over the schedules, and I can see ways we can manage our time more efficiently—not that you haven’t been doing wonderfully,” Mrs. Barrett added, “with all the breakdowns and having to scramble and muddle along and do the best you can.”

She made it sound like it was their fault, that they’d just been running around like headless chickens. Kate glanced at Emmie, feeling dreadful. Maybe chickens weren’t the best metaphor.

“In the Somme,” said Kate, her voice very dry, “the best-laid plans have a way of going agley.”

“Yes,” said Alice, rousing herself out of her doldrums. “You never do wind up doing what you were meant to be doing. Something always seems to come up.”

A loud crash made the china on the table rattle.

“Like that,” said Nell cheerfully. “Do you think it’s Ham again?”

The Germans had been pounding their Quaker friends at Ham. One of their villagers in a neighboring village had died of a heart attack last week from the shock of the noise.

“Or Cambrai?” Florence tilted her head, listening.

“Wrong direction,” said Alice. They’d all become experts on determining the direction and distance of artillery.

“You scarcely notice it after a while,” Emmie said helpfully to Mrs. Barrett. “And we’ve got earplugs for at night.”

“I’ve brought mine with me from Paris,” said Mrs. Barrett, smiling at Emmie. Of course she loved Emmie. Everyone loved Emmie. Kate didn’t understand how Emmie didn’t see that. “Back to business. . . . We’re doing all we can to press the authorities for passes so our girls can get here from Paris.”

“Is there any word on when Dr. Clare will arrive?” asked Julia.

“Her trunks came today,” Emmie offered. “Eight of them. And a folding dispensary table.”

“Dr. Clare is still waiting for her pass, but we expect her momentarily. In the meantime . . .” Mrs. Barrett looked very pleased with herself. “I’ve arranged for a doctor from the Red Cross hospital in Nesle to visit three times a week to see patients. Dr. Stapleton of Johns Hopkins.”

Julia’s face was roughly the color of the whitewash Anne had been using on the cellar walls.

“There’s no need for that,” said Kate, and was aware of just how harsh and ugly her voice sounded, how rude and ungrateful. “Dr. Pruyn can manage. Dr. Pruyn has been managing. Brilliantly.”

Mrs. Barrett regarded Kate tolerantly. “Miss Moran, the point is not to manage. The point is to make everything go as smoothly as possible, with as little difficulty as possible. Dr. Pruyn shouldn’t have to manage.”

She had no idea, thought Kate wildly. She just thought Kate was being difficult. And maybe Kate was being difficult, but there were reasons, if only Mrs. Barrett had bothered to stop and ask. She’d read the reports and spoken to the members who had visited in Paris and thought she knew all there was to know, but that wasn’t the half of it.

Mrs. Barrett smiled at Julia, clearly misinterpreting Julia’s white lips and set face. “It’s no reflection on your skill, Dr. Pruyn. There’s far too much work here for one doctor. The Unit was always meant to have at least two doctors on staff.”

Julia pushed up from her chair. “I need to go back to the infirmary.”

Straight-backed, Julia stalked out of the barrack, letting the wind slam the door shut behind her.

Mrs. Barrett watched her go with concern. “And that’s just the problem. You’ve all been working yourselves sick. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it—or how necessary it was! But now you’ve laid the groundwork, we can all learn from what you’ve already done, and make improvements going forward. You were the pioneers—but now we’ve entered a new stage of our grand project. We don’t have to create anymore, but refine.”

“I need to go refine the mess in the cellar,” said Nell, hopping up from her chair. “Are you coming, Alice?”

“I’ll go too,” said Emmie, not looking at Kate.

Kate would have followed, but Mrs. Barrett forestalled her. “Miss Moran? May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course.” She was worried about Julia. She was worried about Emmie. But she couldn’t say no. “I didn’t mean to be difficult during the meeting. It’s just that we’ve been here some time and we’ve developed habits and ways of doing things.”