The wind had begun to fling scatterings of sleet against the sides of the corrugated tin huts by the time the briefings ended. Those personnel who were off duty sprinted across the dark parade ground to regather in the warmth of the NAAFI and Bridie hurried back to her post behind the counter to brew another gargantuan pot of tea.
Ruaridh and Alec joined Flora and Mairi, removing their peaked caps and setting them on the table to dry, and quickly filled them in on the latest news. With Russia fighting against Hitler’s army on several fronts, keeping the Soviet supply lines open was essential. But in the south the borders were controlled by Germany now. The only way to get vital munitions and equipment in would be through the Arctic. Convoys of ships would have to run the gauntlet past the northern cape of Norway, now defended by German battleships and U-boats as well as the Luftwaffe. And Loch Ewe was to be one of the mustering points from which these convoys would depart.
The mood in the canteen – which was usually light-hearted and jocular, the noise of friendly banter mingling with the clatter of cutlery and the hissing of the hot water urn – had become more serious all of a sudden. What they had seen up until now had only been the beginning.
As Bridie topped up their cups, the three girls exchanged a look of fear as they realised that the safe harbour alongside which they made their homes had just become a strategic focal point in a world torn apart by war.
The hilltops were blanketed in a layer of fresh snow the next morning, and Flora blew on her hands to warm them a little. She’d just had to change a spark plug in the ambulance she was to drive that day, which had refused to start, and her fingertips were frozen. She climbed into the cab and tried the engine again, breathing a sigh of relief when it started with ease. Her orders were to transfer two patients from the sick bay at the base over to Gairloch, where the hotel had been turned into a military hospital. She scraped the layer of crisp frost from the windscreen and then, as she waited for her charges to be brought out, thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her navy-issue greatcoat and paced back and forth in an attempt to keep warm. Her attention was caught by the sight of a familiar figure emerging from the command hut across the parade ground.
‘Alec!’ she called, waving to attract his attention.
He appeared to be deep in thought, but his eyes, which had been fixed on the path, lit up as he saw her.
He hurried over. ‘Flora, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I have to tell you.’ The tone of his voice was flat, and she realised that behind his smile his expression was taut with tension.
‘What is it?’
‘Well, the good news is that I’ve been promoted to lieutenant commander.’
‘Why, Alec, that’s wonderful. I thought you still had two more years to go?’
‘I did. They’ve speeded things up a little.’
She searched his face, confused by the lack of enthusiasm in his blunt response.
‘But . . . ?’ she prompted.
His jaw clenched as conflicting emotions played out across his features. ‘But with my promotion comes a new role. I’m going back to sea again, joining one of the destroyers. They’ll be needing them for protecting the convoys to Russia.’
She was silent while she digested this news and its implications, automatically glancing out across the pewter-dark waters of the loch to where the unforgiving sea stirred restlessly, surging and seething among the rocks beyond the point.
‘It could be worse,’ he said. She could tell he was making a deliberate effort to sound cheerful, trying to reassure her. ‘We’ll be mostly escorting ships from Iceland, but I’ll be back here from time to time so I’ll be able to see you still when I’m home. And I’m not leaving immediately. I’ll be here for a couple more weeks – until after Christmas, at least.’
She swallowed hard, choking back the anguish that had closed her throat. ‘That’s something, then,’ she replied when she could get the words out, trying to echo his positive tone.
Just then the two patients were brought out from the sick bay, one managing to walk with the aid of a pair of crutches and the other carried on a stretcher by a pair of orderlies.
‘Sorry, Alec, I have to go. We’ll talk later?’
He nodded miserably.
She longed to wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth, holding him in the safety of her embrace, but constrained by her duty, had to make do with giving him the bravest smile she could manage.
She opened the doors at the back of the truck, helping the walking wounded case to climb in.