"Thank you" were the first and only words the soldier offered to her as she showed him to his bed, at the end of the ward, closest to the grand fireplace that was now frankly sparkling since the cleaner's close shave. His voice was quiet, croaky and tired.

He had shaken his head at her question as to whether he wanted anything more as she settled him in, noticing the meticulous, almost obsessive arranging of his meagre belongings onto the bedside table and into the drawer with his one useful arm.

She decided to leave him be, dismissed when he was to be examined by the Doctor who simply looked through her as though she did not exist when he arrived at the bedside, and let him sleep. Chummy made him a cup of tea and left a jug of water, even though he indicated he wanted nothing, and left, her jobs for the day now concluded.

On arriving back home she was positively bursting to tell someone, anyone, of her day. She was enthused, despite her misgivings, and even if it was only for a week, that week would have a routine and purpose and just something to occupy her and she just needed to tell someone.

"Camilla?" came a voice from the sitting room as she tried to sneak past, knowing it was almost seven o'clock and that was when, usually, her mother would take to the front room for another chapter of whichever novel she was reading this week. She had hoped to slip up upstairs to bathe without being noticed. Chummy's exuberance seeped away and out of her skin, lost, as she heard her mother.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked, as Chummy opened the door and stood just inside, feet away from her mother but not feeling she could approach any further.

"Yes Mater", she replied, hands clasped across her middle.

"Do you intend to go back tomorrow?" her mother asked abruptly, still looking at her novel, not raising her eyes to her daughter.

"Yes Mater", she replied, having seen nothing to turn her against the place. Then again, she had only been there for a day.

"Hmm….." Lady Browne replied. It was almost a snort. "I believe that Mrs Green has left you some supper. Ring for her and she will bring it up". So that was that then.

"No" Chummy replied. "It's quite alright Mater, I will go down".

Her mother sighed. "If you wish". Yes, that was that.

Chummy turned tail and walked to the back of the house, opening the door that would ultimately lead her down another corridor and into the kitchen. The back door was open and there was a fresh breeze which greeted her as she stepped into the kitchen, empty of life.

"Hello dear" came a voice a minute later from behind her.

"Hello Mrs Green" Chummy replied, turning and moving out of the way of their cook, who had a basket of fresh vegetables in her arms . "Mater said you saved some supper for me?"

"I did" she replied setting the basket down. "Let me get it for you".

Chummy sat at the bare kitchen table. "Do you mind if I eat it here?" she asked, not keen on the dining room on her own. The room was so large it was eerie when you sat, alone, at the table.

"No. Of course not. I could do with the company while I wash this veg" Mrs Green replied, gesturing vaguely at the overstuffed basket. Chummy could see potatoes, carrots, a swede, two turnips and possible a cabbage buried underneath, a 'thank you' to their cook for taking in laundry from the farm. She would be making the household a hearty soup with it.

"I heard your brother say you were up at the Manor" she continued.

"Yes" Chummy replied before a thought struck her. She had not asked after Mrs Green's two sons for a good three weeks and it shamed her. "Have you heard from Michael and James recently?"

She saw her smile proudly. "I had a letter from Michael just yesterday. He is in France and well, for James, no news is good news. Last time I heard from him he was in Amsterdam but that was months ago".

A stew was placed in front of her, still a good temperature from where it had been kept in the oven. A jar of pickled beetroot was placed beside it. "I kept some back from those brothers of yours!"

"Thank you" Chummy replied smiling. One of Mrs Green's stews without beetroot was a positive nightmare.

"So what have they got you doing?" she asked, filling the sink with water to clean the veg. "Not cleaning out the po's I hope!"

Chummy shook her head, although no doubt bedpans were to come. "Making drinks, fetching and carrying, getting food from the kitchen, settling people in" she said, opening up the jar of beetroot, fishing inside with a fork and adorning her supper.

"Anyone in particular?" Mrs Green asked.

"They've assigned me one person to look after. No nursing but making sure he's alright" Chummy replied. Yes that was just about it. Making sure he was 'alright'.

"Does he have name and is he alright?" Mrs Green inquired, hands deep in scrubbing the potatoes she had removed from the basket.

"Private Peter Noakes" Chummy offered, before pausing, forkful of stew on its way to her mouth. "And I don't know"

"You don't know?"

"No" Chummy replied, sadly, leaning her fork back down. "I think he's said two words since he arrived".

"He's bound to be quiet, whoever he is" the cook replied. "Last time Michael came home on leave he barely said a word until it was time to go again. Something was stopping him; like something had stolen his voice box".

"I wish I could get him to say more", Chummy pondered, slowly making her way through her supper realising she would have to eat as soon it would be cold again and she was hungry.

"He will", she replied, gesturing with damp hands. "Just you wait and see. Michael might have been my boy but it was almost like he had to trust me again; " trust me that I'd just listen to him". A thought struck her. "How bad are his injuries?"

"Burns on his back and shoulder" she said, not wanting to reel out what she had actually read.

"Burns are hell on earth, my dear. Our little Lizzie was pushed into a fire when we were kids" Mrs Green started, remembering her red haired sister and that horrific accident on a bonfire. "They were surprised she lived, but the pain! You could see it in her eyes, the way she walked, sometimes she couldn't even whisper it was that bad. Give him time and your patience. He'll talk".

Chummy smiled, reassured. Her offer to help with the soup after she had finished her supper was refused and she went upstairs for an early bath and bed.

She slept well that night, exhausted without realising how much of a long day she had had, but she still woke with the dawn, excitement bubbling in her stomach rather than the usual flutters of anxiety. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she would to walk to the Manor in the morning instead. It might not do her good if she was seen arriving every day in a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce. Her mother's annoyed sigh was enough when she told her.

"Ah! There you are Auxiliary Browne" came a voice from behind her as she made her way to the small staff room to hang up her coat. She turned to find Matron Banks.

"A quick job for you before you take up your duties. I have heard that the Auxiliary who was meant to arrive tomorrow has in fact arrived today. She is with Sister Prince. Could you find her and tell her that I will need to speak to her too and I am sure you can arrange between the two of you where your divided duties will lay".

"Yes Matron, we can".

"Good" the Matron replied. "Now on your way. There are breakfast trays still to be brought up from the kitchen".

She was actually quite impressed with the girl. Lady Browne was not quite a friend, more an acquaintance of sorts, and she could never quite read her. There always had to be a motive or a means being most of the Ladyship's behaviour and she had wondered for a moment what was to transpire this time with the approach for her only daughter to spend a week at the Manor. If she had her way, she would be there for as long as she was needed and it had annoyed her that for some reason, Lady Browne thought her daughter could simply dip in and dip out as her mother felt like it as though caring for these men was a jape. The girl wasn't afraid of work though and seemed quite a pleasant young lady.

Wheeling a trolley from the kitchen, as she was to deliver breakfasts to those who were capable, Chummy proceeded down the middle of the ward but was stopped by the Sister. She could just see, five or so feet away, that Private Noakes was sitting up in bed, but dozing.

"Auxiliary Browne this is Auxiliary Cooper". Chummy and the girl exchanged polite nods. "I have already spoken to Auxiliary Cooper and that you have been attending to two officers whilst we waited for her company. I have carried out introductions".

"Yes Sister", Chummy replied, hands resting on the trolley.

"You both have your duties" the Sister continued before she moved away. Chummy raised her head and smiled, trying to be polite to this stranger. She was never any good at inception of conversation.

"Matron Banks has asked that you go and see her" Chummy started. "Her office is down the corridor by the front door on the l.."

"I know" the girl replied, cutting her off before she nodded her head back towards the end bed before she walked away.

"And you can keep the one that barely says a word".