"Caroline, wait," Penelope called out as she was about to leave their tent to go to breakfast. Caroline figured that she must have forgotten something, as Penelope had never been one to dally when it came to her morning tea, especially when her friend was about to hop on a transport truck to depart for a twenty-four-hour leave in Calais.

But when she saw Penelope standing there, her ears turning a delicate shade of pink as her eyes darted around the tent, Caroline knew something else was afoot.

"Has something happened?" Caroline probed as she walked toward Penelope, taking her friend's trembling hand to lead her back to her cot.

They both sat down on Caroline's bed, but as soon as Penelope hit the canvas, she jumped up again like the bed was electrified and quickly paced in front of Caroline as much as the confined space of the tent allowed.

"Penelope, for goodness sake. What is the matter?"

"It's about Calais,"

"Was it cancelled? Oh, Penelope, I know how excited you were about it; I'm sure Matron will -"

"No, it wasn't cancelled. It's, um, I have something to, ah… ask of you?" Penelope's voice raised an octave almost every word she spoke, the pink in her ears now creeping to splash across her entire face.

Caroline jutted her head forward to study Penelope's strange behaviour more closely. While her friend could behave strangely at times, she had always just chalked it up to the differences in their upbringing. But this fumbling woman in front of her was something new altogether.

"Of course, you know you can ask me anything."

Caroline watched as her friend nodded slowly, her arms now flush against her body as she walked back to the cot and collapsed into it with a groan. Caroline patiently waited for her friend to collect her evident out-of-sorts self.

"Caroline, I wouldn't ask you this out of turn. It's because I trust and respect you so ardently that I feel that I can approach you about –"

"Penelope, please." Caroline rolled her eyes and reached out to tightly grasp Penelope's hand. "Just tell me what is on your mind. Whatever it is, we'll see it through together."

Penelope let out a small stream of air and looked up towards the rain-soaked ceiling of their tent before closing her eyes and whispering, "Mother, forgive me,"

"For the love of God, Penelope. Enough with the dramatics. Whatever it is, it can't possibly be as bad as you are making it out to be in your head. If you wait any longer, you'll miss your ride and won't have to worry about the bother anyways!"

"Alright! Alright!" her friend stammered before gripping her hand tighter. "I need you to tell me what happens when a man and a woman, ah – when they are in bed, together, what happens when they have marital relations? That is, I know that you don't need to be married to initiate the um…act."

Caroline was so surprised at the question that she let out a sharp burst of laughter, causing her friend to frown and cover her face with her hands. "Caroline! Please, I'm already hideously embarrassed enough!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. Let us try it again." Caroline said while closing her eyes and shaking her head. "So, my dear friend. You asked me what happens when two people have sex, yes?"

"Oh my God, is that what people call it?" Penelope cried, pulling a face. "How crass!"

"It's nothing of the sort," Caroline added with a blush of her own.

"That means you can tell me, right?"

While Caroline's youth had many things that filled her with regrets, she was thankful that her family had never sheltered her from the realities of human existence; sex included. How could a twenty-two-year-old woman, and a nurse at that, possibly not know what sex entailed? It was a pity now for that finishing school education. If she hadn't promised Penelope she wouldn't laugh; she would have been keeled over on the floor at this point.

"If I tell you, you promise that you won't faint? I have to be in the wards in ten minutes and don't have the time to fan you awake."

"It's that horrible?" Penelope squeaked.

"Not in the slightest," Caroline replied as she took a brief moment to reflect upon her own experiences of the act before diving into the details with her wide-eyed friend.

Her first time had been with Patrick and he tried to be gentle and loving as much as their youthful naivety could allow. Each time that followed, she had begun to understand more what the washhouse women snickered about when she went for her Sunday baths. Except for when she let him in through her open window in the middle of the night, his breath stinking of rum. He was rougher then, with a more carnal fervency that put his own needs first and often left her feeling emptier than before he had crawled into her bed. Unfortunately, she never got the chance to see if that would change with time. He had disappeared one afternoon, and her brother Davy had slapped her across the face when she dared to ask where he had gone. Davey and Patrick had been best friends since they were five and his response confused her broken heart. But she knew well enough to never ask after him again. Caroline had met the last man just after her mother's accident when, after chugging a glass of gin, she snuck into one of Davey's "Christmas parties." From what she could remember, he was roguishly handsome but equally as broken as her. She never saw him again either, though he had served his purpose for the evening of trying to stem the hemorrhage of her bleeding heart.

Naturally, she had left out those particular fond memories as she recited to Penelope the practicalities of lovemaking that made her friend both gasp and squirm as she spared no details in her lecture.

"With that being said, I'll leave you with this. In the end, I know it will be wonderful. And if it happens to take place with a man who, oh, I don't know," she continued vaguely, "is well indoctrinated with the knowledge of human bodies, due to his, shall we say, chosen career. I suspect he will be well versed in the mechanics of it all and should take great care when the time comes."

"Right, so if I heard you correctly," Penelope nodded her head dutifully and spoke as clearly as if she was reading carefully collected notes, "Doctors should know how to have sex."

At the word, both girls stared at each other in a momentary state of shock before bursting out into a fit of giggles that left them breathless.

"What? I figure I should be getting used to saying the word!"

"That's the spirit, duck!" Caroline said, pulling her friend in for a tight hug. "And what doctor are you referring to exactly?" she couldn't help but add as she squeezed her friend closer.

"Would you look at the time!' Penelope breathed as her blazing eyes bashfully met Caroline's. "I'm about to miss my ride."

"Don't forget your bag," Caroline quipped as Penelope nearly ran out of the tent, leaving her bursting carpet bag on the bed. "Good luck, and remember, the most important part is to have fun!" she sang as she handed the bag to a red-faced Penelope.

"Thank you, you're a true friend," Penelope added, reaching for another hug. Then, as she swept out of the tent, she let out a shrill squeal and disappeared into the frost-glazed morning.

Caroline had hoped that in her excitement, Penelope hadn't noticed her weak, pensive smile as she stumbled out into her new world. But, once her friend had departed, Caroline slumped into her bed, feeling the weight of something settling onto her chest as she lightly stroked her throat. An urge inside her desired to summon the memory of what it felt like to be touched by a man.

She closed her eyes, returning to the times when Patrick was sober enough to try to be delicate. There it was, she remembered. Those fleeting flashes of pleasure. Frustratingly, she remembered that alongside that, there was also the accompaniment of the empty pit that he could never fill. Caroline's eyes snapped open, her hand falling dead in her lap. Even back then, she knew that something about the concept of love made her desperately wish that there could be something more to it. For if those brittle months with Patrick were real, she couldn't imagine wanting anything to do with love again.

However, just maybe… her brutally hopeful heart bleated out, there might be a chance that a man could exist to help her round out the jagged pieces of her soul in a way no man she had ever known could do.

Her body readily answered her question as images of solid hands gripping her own, tanalizing blue eyes and a sultry smile flashed across her mind. Caroline clasped her legs firmly together at the heat settling between them, closing the gate to her mounting frustration. This was not the state she expected to begin her shift in today. If she wasn't so thrilled for Penelope she happily could have throttled her.

"Get your act together, girl," she whispered as she ran her hands over her flushed skin before slapping herself gently on the cheeks and heading out the door.

—-

"Doctor Forrester was to be on the ward today, but he accepted a last-minute twenty-four-hour pass in Calais, so you will be on your own for at least an hour before Doctor Wallace can join you from the surgical theatre." Matron instructed Caroline as she nodded her head, keeping her eyes locked on a spot just behind Matron's shoulder so as not to betray her giddiness at having her suspicions of Penelope's behaviour confirmed.

As she did so, her eyes unconsciously drifted past the tight rows of occupied beds and landed on the one they searched for. Matron's further instructions faded into the background as she observed his face while he spoke to the man next to him in animated conversation. Had he always looked this handsome when his face was awash in relaxation and happiness…

"Nurse Robinson! Did you just hear a word I said?"

"Um, yes, my apologies Matron."

"Well, just in case you need some clarity," she emphasized, "There are three new soldiers fresh from surgery who will need special attention and must be checked on every twenty minutes, on top of the normal duties. I'm sure Doctor Wallace would greatly appreciate it if you could get started on the paperwork. He is just coming off an eighteen-hour surgical shift. Are you sure you are up to the task?" Matron's hard stare bore into her. Caroline hated disappointing her, and she silently chastised herself for her foolishness. It wasn't like her to be so distracted in her work and the thought shot a flare of self-loathing through her gut. Why had she never gotten anything right?

"I shall be in the resuss ward today. Send Corporal Riley should you need anything."

"You can count on me."

"I know I always can," Matron added with a small smile before she slipped out behind the desk and left Caroline alone on the ward.

The day would be long and arduous, leaving no room for distractions or errors. Therefore, she knew the source of said distraction must be forced into a tiny box in her mind so she could get right to work.

Locking him away proved almost impossible, even when she was elbow deep in a man's abdominal cavity, searching for every scrap of lingering dressing, just so she could pack him full again as if he was a Christmas goose. He was just as stubborn in her mind as he was in actuality. Given that everywhere she turned, his face was there, alongside the sound of his musical laugh sailing down towards her.

The first hour of her shift went by without any trouble, and she had worked diligently to make up for the fact that she had started her day on such a poor foot in Matron's eye. If she were to be unexpectantly evaluated by her supervisor, Caroline knew there could be nothing to fault in the state of the ward under her care.

Having missed breakfast, Caroline found her stomach growling as she emptied the drainage basin on the floor of a patient with a tube in his chest. Even after she caught the whiff of the blood and pus that steeped out around him. Thankfully, the patient was still in a post-anesthetic daze and couldn't hear her body plead for a basic need. Nurses were always expected to be silent, even if a nurse hadn't eaten in twelve hours as Caroline had.

Just as she had reprimanded herself once more, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coporoal Riley setting down a tray of tea and freshly baked rolls and caught her eye with a wink.

Bless that man! Her feet barely touched the ground as she sailed over to her desk and thanked him profusely.

"I might be here to help with the patients, but I know I also have a good responsibility to keep up the morale of the nurses too."

"You are a rock, Corporal. A true hero."

"Go on," he brushed off, taking a slurp of his tea before setting it down at the sound of his name.

"Duty calls!" he smiled at her as he dashed out of sight.

Caroline sat down with a satisfied groan as she took a large bite of the roll and pulled over the stack of paperwork that she promised Matron she would attend. She was almost done with her tea and the first page of a complicated patient chart when an unfamiliar voice pulled her attention off both.

"We are here for Private John Michael Shelby. The hospital administrator directed us to this ward."

Caroline looked up from her desk to see shiny boots and polished brass buttons poking around the officer's sturdy frame.

"Can I ask what this is about?" She replied, taking in the equally stone-faced officer at his side and the army chaplain that lingered in his shadow.

"Army business." He responded stiffly. "Now, please nurse, enough games. Where is he?"

Caroline swallowed hard, her brain turning quickly to assess the highly unusual situation. What could they possibly want with him?

"He's, he's," she stumbled, her normal quick-witted brain turning to mush in the presence of the ice-cold, moustachioed Major.

"Out with it, Nurse!" He fired as she sat there looking at him, gaping like a fish.

The other officer snatched the ward roster off her desk and handed it over to the Major as Caroline stood in defiance at the invasion of her rightful property.

"Excuse me, Sir! I shall not be treated as such on my wards."

The Major let out a barking laugh, looking her up in down as if he wanted to devour her.

"Bed six it is then." He quipped, turning sharply as he waddled down the ward aisle with Caroline nipping at his heels.

"Sir, Private Shelby is gravely ill; he mustn't be disturbed by anyone. Please, if you had given me a warning, I could have -"

"Spare me, nurse. The matter cannot wait." He responded with his long strides becoming quicker.

"But he's -"

At the sound of her voice, the Major stopped and turned around to face her, forcing her to nearly collide into him.

"Know your place! I shan't have my work interfered with by a medaling woman."

As they approached his bed, Caroline equally sunk with dread seeing him there as she had been hoping for some reason he would not be, while her head nearly exploded when she digested what he was doing.

He was out of his bed with a pillowcase draped over his head like a veil, as his high-pitched voice imitating an Irish accent danced across the room, eliciting a raucous chorus of laughter from the men around him.

When the officers approached, their hob-nailed boots echoed to a halt; the laughter stopped dead, and an uncomfortable silence blanketed the ward causing Private Shelby to turn around and face the cause of the disruption.

Caroline caught his eye and nearly burned a hole through him as her eyes flashed to his bed while mouthing, "Bed. Now."

When he took in the severe officers, his face became shadowed in the darkness she had never seen before and signalled a stark introduction to the emergence of the side of him he had warned her about. His terrifying grimace oozed with arrogance and defiance as he stared down the officer while hopping back onto his bed, lazily pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

"He looks simply on the brink, nurse." The Major threw over his shoulder as Caroline stood utterly paralyzed with fear.

"Are you Private John Michael Shelby?"

"Could be,"

"Royal Warwickshire?"

"There's a few of us by that name fighting in this war." He lazily replied, scratching his face.

"We're here to discuss the events that took place on the morning of October 15th, 1917."

Caroline listened intently, the blood pumping in her ears as the fear began to course through her.

What had private Mackay told her about the battle he had revived his wound? He could have bloody well shot you. She could feel the blood rush out of her face as she mulled over what seemed like an innocuous comment at the time. But now, his obstinate behaviour could finally face some grave consequences.

"I've trouble remembering events that happen when we're sent to slaughter. Must be something in that battle rum we always get before going over the top."

For the love of God, why can't he shut his mouth for a single second?

"Does that mean you're telling me that you were also drunk on top of all your other offences on the day?" The Major said, looking to the other officer beside him who was writing something down on a pad of paper.

If he didn't stop digging his grave, she knew she would have to step in and do something about it. If only she had payed more attention when her brother Mickey tried to teach her how to hit a man.

"That's your goal, isn't it? Keep us drunk, so we obey?"

Caroline leaped forward, her heart in her throat as she placed her body between the two men.

"Is there something you need, Nurse?" The Major stared at her with hardened eyes, not giving her a second to respond before plucking the sleeve of her blouse, making her flinch as he pulled her out of the way.

The unexpected contact sent her spinning back years, forcing her head low to stare at her feet as she shuffled out of the way.

"I would take your hands off her if I were you." Private Shelby growled, sitting in his bed now, his eyes narrowing to a deadly point as he extinguished his cigarette on the top of his bare hand.

The Major released his grip off her shoulder with a flourish, ignoring his comment.

"Seems like you require a reminder of the day. Lieutenant McDowell, if you please."

The slender Lieutenant, who had been silent through the ordeal, finally stepped forward while adjusting his rounded spectacles before he began to read from the paper in his steadfast hands.

"On the morning of 15 October 1917, Private John Shelby of the Royal Warwickshire received his orders to attack a German front line trench and secure as much ground as possible. The attack began at precisely 7:04 am, and Private Shelby was to follow his platoon commander Lieutenant Geoffry Simpson to the nearest cut in the wire. At approximately 7:12 am, the platoon was pinned down by unexpected machine gun fire in No Man's Land. Lieutenant Simpson suggested an alternative plan to the remaining soldiers under his command."

"That would've gotten us all killed if I hadn't stayed behind!"

The officer only raised his voice over John's interjection and continued reading.

"After defying the direct orders of his commander, Private Shelby stayed in the original position and continued to attack the machine gun nest alone as observed by another platoon officer."

Having always been the one to clean up the mess of the battles, upon hearing the description of one, particularly one involving Private Shelby, Caroline found that her eyes now looked upon him in a new light. One that caused her chest to swell with pride, now knowing what he was accomplishing for their country, and another part despairing at understanding what he risked to achieve. She was ashamed that she did not have the same bravery to save him now.

"At the commencement of the battle, a wounded Private Shelby was located in the machine gun nest, surrounded by ten German soldiers he had personally killed, including the gunners that had pinned down his battalion. Due to his actions, his platoon heroically broke through the German lines to capture their trench."

She couldn't possibly believe her ears. What the hell was going on?

"And with that said," Lieutenant McDowell paused as the Major stepped forward and took a small leather-bound case out of his pocket. "Field Marshal Douglas Haig under the service of His Majesty King George V has seen fit to award you the Distinguished Conduct Medal for acts of gallantry and devotion to duty under fire."

Caroline could feel her complexion blanche at the words, her eyes meeting John's equally slack stare as the Major popped open the box and brandished the silver medal, holding it by the blue and red ribbon in front of their eyes.

"Congratulations, Private Shelby." The Major said as he walked forward and pinned the medal on his shirt lapel above his heart.

He reached out to shake his hand, and Caroline saw as John clasped it that after a moment's hesitation, the Major grasped his hand tighter, pulled John closer towards him, and spoke in a low voice that was still loud enough for Caroline to hear.

"The next time you pull a stunt like that, I will replace that medal with a white pocket square. Am I clear?" He added with a stiff poke on his chest.

"Yes, Sir." He mumbled.

At least he had the common sense to keep his mouth shut in a moment like this, Caroline thought as she swallowed hard to lubricate her bone-dry mouth.

"Isn't there work you should be attending to, Nurse?" the Lieutenant asked as Caroline found herself sliding in closer to the conversation.

"Pardon?" she asked suddenly, being pulled back to reality as her spinning thoughts came to a jarring halt.

"Your job?" he sneered, waving his hand across the ward as if to dismiss her.

"Oh, right. Yes. Excuse me." She said weakly, moving out of the way but not before looking at Private Shelby. Smouldering eyes were already locked onto hers, causing the familiar tension within her chest to tighten.

"Five minutes," he mouthed as he held up five strong fingers before pointing at her and then patting the side of his bed.

She didn't know if she could wait ten seconds, let alone five minutes, before she could be near him again, but she nodded fervently, knowing she needed a moment to collect herself after the events of the last ten minutes.

—-

Caroline was forced to wait at least another twenty minutes before the procession of military personnel had finally left Private Shelby's beside. And it was another ten minutes before all his fellow shoulders had finished jumping on him, hooting and hollering as they congratulated him with gusto.

She had spent the time folding laundry, which was typically a volunteer's job but was something that she enjoyed taking on herself when she felt the need to calm her racing thoughts. There was something about the smell of the fresh, crisp linens she could fold from a crumpled mess to a perfect square that ironed out her thoughts like the creased cotton under her fingertips.

As soon as she sensed that the circus had died, she placed all the folded pillow cases in the hamper and dusted off her hands in satisfaction. Then, as she swung past the old wooden shelves that housed the extra bedding, she grabbed a fresh pillow and stuffed it under her arm, sneaking a look to see if Matron was around as she pulled out a small strand of hair from behind her ear so that it fell gently across her cheek.

Walking between the rows of iron beds, she watched his eyes burn through her as she sat up straighter in his bed. It was as if time had come to a standstill, each step, her knees weakening under his bright-eyed stare.

"I've brought you another pillow, Private Shelby."

"What for?" he challenged, a silly smirk overtaking his features that sent a shiver down her spine.

"For that big head of yours!" she laughed as she tossed the pillow in his face causing him to let out a hard grunt as it hit him square in the chest. "From what I've seen it looks like you already have an extra pillow case for it."

He grabbed the pillow and held it above his head, his eyebrow raised in a challenge.

"Don't you dare!" she gasped, "not after everything you have put me through in the last hour!"

"You?" he questioned, "I'm the one who I thought I was about to be strung up and shot!" he finished as he lowered the pillow and fixed it in his lap.

"Well, I was the one who was standing here shitting myself, trying to figure out how I was going to get you out of it!" she said, forgetting she was standing in front of at least a dozen other soldiers.

"That makes two of us then, sweetheart."

"You have no idea how fortunate you are, Private Shelby."

"I figure I've got a pretty good idea, actually," he said with a glimmer in his eye that made her take another long step towards him.

"If you ever do something like that again, that Major won't have to be the one to shoot you because you better believe that I'll do it first," she said, her voice lowering as she took another step so that now her skirts brushed the sleeve of his shirt as she stared down into thickly lashed eyes.

He swallowed hard, "Are you always this cute when you're angry?"

The pillow he tossed at her knocked her off balance and muffled her yelp of surprise. Forcing her to clutch onto his shoulder to steady herself as her head spun at the feel of his ragged breaths brushing against her lips.

"I've never met a more insufferable man in my life," she said through equally short breaths as her grip tightened around his solidly built shoulder.

"It's too bad you're stuck with me then," he responded. Caroline bit her lower lip as his eyes darted to rest on them. What was she meant to be mad at him for again?

Though all the blood had seemingly rushed out of her brain to swarm in other, less intelligent parts of her body, she slowly came to the recognition of the familiar sounds of the ward that surrounded them. Including the fact that there now seemed to be a dozen eyes trained onto her backside as she leaned over him. If she didn't extract herself from the situation now, she thought, he could have placed his hands on any part of her he desired. The biggest problem being that she wouldn't have said a peep if he did. Voyeuristic soldiers be damned!

Extracting herself from the situation, she pulled herself to her fullest height as she smoothed down the wayward piece of hair caught in her eyelashes. The innocent look on his face was broken when he licked his lips as if he had just happily feasted on her moment of weakness.

"I must be returning to the other men," she said wistfully. "But let me help you before I do," she added lightly as she reached down to his bedside table where a stack of letters was waiting, ready to be mailed.

"Don't take those!" He called out, surprising her at the intensity of his command.

Her eyes caught the addressee to the first envelope at the top of the pile. Martha Davis.

Such a plain, simple, beautiful little name that made her want to scream. The ground tilted underneath her as all hope within her was strangled. Today had been a bloody nightmare, and this was just the icing on the cake. With difficulty, she stifled a tear. "I'm sorry for intruding into your personal affairs. I didn't mean to pry."

She slowly laid the crumpled stack of envelopes at the foot of his bed and began to back away.

"It's not what you think,"

"I'm sorry, I have to go,"

"Just stay for a minute. Let me explain."

She shook her head, knowing that what she was about to say was petty and cruel even, considering the circumstances. But her mind was now only controlled by the pain ripping through her.

"You best not wait to mail those. It wouldn't do to keep your loved ones waiting on you."

—-

If her responsibilities hadn't been stacked up to the sky today, she certainly would have tried to feign illness or find one of the VAD's to pick her up slack as she squirrelled away somewhere away from him. But luck had never been on her side, and she had to run up and down the ward for the rest of the afternoon, constantly putting herself in his path. How could she have been so stupid? The writing had, for lack of a better word, been written on a letter for almost a month now, ever since she had seen the letter from the mysterious woman on one of his first days here. And what had she done with that knowledge? Fucking ignored it, that's what. Just like the horrible person knew she was carrying on while she buried her head in the sand, letting herself become more entangled in his charm. Of course, she couldn't be mad at him, not really. They were a nurse and a patient. Nothing more. The conversation could be avoided easily, as he would probably just disappear one day soon, just like the rest of them. Thank God she had come to her senses before she let herself cross any more boundaries. How could she have forgotten what could happen if she was dismissed from service? Who would pay for her mother's care then?

Fortified with her revived purpose, she worked that afternoon in a manner that no one could have faulted. Fixing her eyes on the end of the ward as she sped past his bed for hopefully the last time that afternoon. But as she went towards the wood-burning stove to refill the kettle for the men's bedtime tea, she felt something soft hit her back. Turning around slowly, she looked around to find nothing. There wasn't a man out of bed nor anything else a miss.

When she glanced down at her feet about to keep walking, something on the ground caught her eye. While bending down to pick it up, her temper began to flare monstrously. Snatching the offending item in her hand, she stomped as graciously as any self-respecting nurse could and stood at the end of his bed with her hands on her hips.

"Did you just throw this at me?" she hissed, anger seething between her teeth as she flicked the toothpick back at him.

"Oi lads, we've got a live one tonight. Watch out."

"Don't you ever just shut up!"

A chorus of laughter and hollers echoed across the ward, and she felt her eyes perk with embarrassment.

"Now look at what you've gone and made me do." her voice was low and almost breaking, and she tore her eyes which had now softened and sharply turned away with her head held high.

—-

"You sure cocked that up, Shelby." Private Mackay chuckled, looking over at him.

He already knew that, of course, but didn't need some fucking idiot reminding him. Throwing the toothpick at her was juvenile at best, but what choice did she leave him with! He had given her a fair warning of what could happen if she walked away from him again.

John returned the men's look with a steeled gaze that radiated a stern warning. It sure shut him up quickly.

There hadn't been many problems in his life that he hadn't been able to solve with either his fists, words or a kiss. And he sure as hell hoped the first two wouldn't be necessary.

All this trouble for a woman he didn't even know her first name. The woman with all the secrets, someone that even he couldn't quite crack. He was getting closer, though, every moment he sent in her company, slowly picking at her shell as he discovered more about her. Women had occupied his mind before, but not like this. Probably all the time staring at the ceiling, unable to move. Enough of this. She had had enough time to stew, and he would force her to listen to him whether she wanted to or not.

John dragged himself out of bed, hoping his leg was strong enough to pull him the short distance to the nursing station where Nurse Robinson had barricaded herself around two giant stacks of paper and a couple of tea cups.

What a bloody idiot he could be! Of all the days he had finally replied to Martha! In his excitement of the past couple of days, the letter he had intended to write fell ever farther into the back of his mind. It was only after yesterday that the thought of reading her letters didn't even bother him anymore, and he had read them both before he went to bed. It was from reading the contents of the last letter that he had become so encouraged to write the final letter between them.

"The fuck you doing, Shelby?" Private Smith called out to him as he limped with a groan down the ward aisle.

He didn't respond and only clutched tighter around the unopened letter in his hands. He didn't need to explain himself to anyone except for one person. All his energy needed to be focused on moving forward if he was going to make it to the desk standing on his own two feet.

It was easy to ignore the pain in his leg once he saw her sitting at the desk. As soon as he came within earshot of her, brilliant, almond-shaped eyes shot up and caught him square in the chest. Her inky blue gaze reminded him of an unknown blue jewel he had seen draped across the neck of some horse owner's wife at the races that had always caught his eye.

"Are you out of your mind?" she screamed.

He couldn't respond yet, not while he still had a few more steps to take.

"Private Shelby, you must return to your bed immediately." she yelled, more frantically now as she stood up behind her desk to get a better vantage point.

He took one final laborious step and halted in front of her gaze as he held up the letter in his trembling hands.

"Forget it, honestly. Just go back to bed," she tried to wave him off, but she didn't know that he had a burning fire of determination roaring through him that couldn't be stopped.

He flipped over the letter and began ripping the envelope without care for its decency as he flung it onto the floor.

"Please, that is unnecessary. I don't need to know what's in it."

"Dear Martha," he read aloud and paused for a moment, sneaking up at her face to see her mouth hanging open but devoid of any more words tumbling out of it, so he continued.

First of all, I regret it has taken me this long to respond to your letters. You deserve better and I am sorry for that. Secondly, I am delighted to hear about your engagement to Bobby Lawson, he is a good man and I know he will take care of you. Please don't be concerned about me; truly, you owe me no explanation or loyalty. Trust that I am happy to see you so contented in your budding future. I am thankful for the short time we spent together and, even more, for the steadfast company you provided me throughout our childhood. I know you have nothing but a bright future ahead, and I look forward to the day when I can toast to you and Bobby back home in Small Heath.

Yours,

Johnny

"You've been passed over then?"

"For a bloody baker too, no less."

"My deepest sympathies,"

"Knowing that, you can't even give me your shoulder to cry on?"

"Please," she added something else under her breath that she couldn't quite hear.

"I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, you still wanted to come over here even though I've been a twat?"

"Yeah, I did. But I still like you all the same," he said, placing both his hands on the desk to lean over it so their eyes were level.

"You think because you have that shiny new medal now that you're invincible?"

"I think it helps."

"You know you didn't have to read me the letter. You don't owe me anything."

"Christ, so you're telling me I didn't have to drag my arse all the way over here then? I've been sitting on opening her bloody letter for weeks, love, but it just didn't feel right now that.." he paused, a piece of his confidence deflating. Now that, what? What did he think was happening between them? "Anyways, I just want to you know that I don't have any more letters sitting around from any other girls. Nor am I writing to anyone else."

"What makes you think that I care to know that information?" her rosy lips spoke quietly and he could tell that she was trying to hide a smile.

"Beats me, mo stór, but I hope that once you do figure it out, I'll be the first one you come and find."