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Band of Sisters(148)

Author:Lauren Willig

It was certainly better, decided Kate, than putting Gwen into quarantine in one of the barracks, where the thin walls and small windows let in a great deal of cold but very little light or air. She’d be more comfortable and better cared for here.

“Now let’s just hope she didn’t spread it,” said Julia as they headed back out to the truck. “It’s the nearer villages that are the concern—”

She broke off as a man stopped in front of them, on his way to the ward. “Hello!” said Dr. Stapleton. “I thought that was the Unit truck out front. Missing me already?”

It sounded so charming the way he said it, with a big, self-deprecating grin. If Kate hadn’t known better, she would have smiled back.

Instead, she stepped in front of Julia, shielding her as best she could. “We just dropped off a measles case. Gwen Mills.”

“She’s worn herself out, I see,” Dr. Stapleton said gravely, but he couldn’t quite hide a hint of smugness. “I would have been happy to continue visiting. . . .”

“But we weren’t happy to have you visiting,” said Kate bluntly. It would have been easier to simply walk away, to pretend this wasn’t her quarrel. But it was. She’d promised Julia. “You aren’t wanted, Dr. Stapleton. You aren’t wanted and you aren’t needed.”

He looked over Kate’s head at Julia, then back down at Kate. “You’re not listening to sour grapes, are you? If Julia’s been talking nonsense . . .”

“I’ve known Dr. Pruyn for over a decade,” said Kate sharply. “I’ve never known her to speak nonsense. And I’ll tell you something, Dr. Stapleton. We know. We know what you are. If you ever prey on another woman again, we’ll be sure every hospital in America knows it. You won’t find a single practice to employ you. You’ll be lucky to get a job as a navy surgeon in the South Seas, where there’s not a woman within a hundred miles and nothing to stare at but the bottom of a bottle.”

Dr. Stapleton’s face was as white as his collar and cuffs. He gave an entirely unconvincing laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you certainly have a picturesque way of expressing it.” As two nurses in Red Cross uniforms passed by, he added loudly, “You don’t need to worry. I’ll look in on your measles case for you.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Julia said from behind Kate, sounding remote but entirely in possession of herself. “Measles can make you sterile—or worse.”

Dr. Stapleton looked entirely discomfited. “Well, naturally. That is . . .”

“Goodbye, John,” Julia said, and stalked out with Kate following behind.

Neither of them said anything until they were safely in the truck.

Then Julia glanced sideways at Kate, her mouth twisting with delicate irony. “A navy surgeon in the South Seas?”

Kate grimaced. “It was the first thing that popped into my head. I just wanted something suitably remote.”

There was silence for a moment, as Kate maneuvered around a very large, extremely top-heavy farm cart.

Once they were past it, Julia said quietly, “Thank you.”

“We stand together, remember? Besides, you didn’t need me. You should have seen him sweat when you mentioned he might lose his manhood!”

Julia permitted herself a little smile. “I knew that would hit him where it hurts. He mentioned once that he hadn’t had measles. . . .”

“At least we know Gwen’s safe from him,” said Kate. “But this means you’re back to doing all the medical work on your own.”

Julia looked at Kate levelly. “Not entirely on my own,” she said. “Oh, don’t go all sentimental on me! You’re getting as bad as Emmie.”

Over the next three days, with Emmie on hand as nurse, Julia examined every adult and child in Hombleux, Esmery-Hallon, and Breuil, the three villages with which Gwen had had contact.

Julia delivered her report over a late dinner on Wednesday night. They’d kept dinner back for Alice, Nell, and Florence, who had been to the “movies” in Hombleux that night. With only seven left at Grécourt and the constant hiss of aerial battle overhead, the Unit was clinging together as much as possible, reduced to its core.

“What’s the diagnosis?” asked Kate, trying to sound jaunty, even though she was really, truly, desperately afraid. A measles epidemic could decimate their villages.

“Eight cases of pneumonia, two of tetanus, and more syphilis than is socially acceptable,” said Julia, spearing a braised turnip from the serving platter. “But no measles.”