Amy's Touch Read Free Page B

soldiers had experienced and not be emotionally scarred. She grunted softly to herself. Not that the army was interested in that. So long as the medical and nursing staff were able to restore a soldier to reasonable physical health, the high-ranking officers were happy.
    He fell into step with her as they walked along the crushed seashell path to the hospital area of the army base. The rain had turned to finesleet, and Amy shivered under her greatcoat. Matron would have to issue extra blankets tonight if it got any colder, which was likely. A cold snap and a marked drop in temperature meant that one or two patients might not make it through the night.
    ‘I’ll be pleased to get home and feel some good Australian sunshine on my face,’ the lieutenant said, making conversation as they walked. ‘I’ve seen enough mud and snow and slush to last a lifetime.’
    ‘Snow’s rather nice.’ She cast him a quick glance, the dourness of his tone confirming in her mind that he had seen a good deal of action. ‘Until it begins to melt.’
    ‘Too right,’ he agreed, with obvious feeling. ‘You’re Australian too. Where are you from? Have you been stationed here long?’
    ‘In Britain? I left Adelaide two years ago next January. I requested to be attached to a frontline hospital but the army said I was too inexperienced.’ She smiled sourly. ‘What they really meant was that they considered me too young, and the wrong gender, for such a post.’
    ‘Be grateful they did.’ An edge of hardness came into his voice. ‘Believe me, frontline hospitalising was no place for women. From what I saw, it was hard enough on the doctors and male nursing attendants.’
    Something in his tone, a subtle condemnation, ruffled Amy’s equilibrium. She should have been used to masculine prejudice, there was an abundance of it back home and here, but she knew she never would be able to accept it. Her free-thinking suffragette mother, God rest Amelia Carmichael’s soul, had taught Amy too well for her to meekly accept that because she was a woman she was somehow inferior. And who was he, and who were they—those in command
    —to decide that the front wasn’t the right place for women; that they couldn’t be as emotionally or physically tough as men? She couldn’t deny her sex, but she was a jolly good nurse, and should have been posted to where there was the most need.
    ‘It’s attitudes like yours, Lieutenant, that led to the suffragette movement gaining momentum in South Australia and elsewhere. The colonial government of our state gave women the vote in 1894, before I was born.’ Warming to her topic, Amy went on, ‘Most women of my acquaintance do not want to be put on a pedestal. They want respect, but they’re also prepared to get their hands dirty to get the job done.’
    The lieutenant’s steps faltered for a second or two, as if he was not used to being taken to task for such remarks. ‘Oh, dear, what have we here: a Pankhurst admirer?’
    ‘No. Simply a woman who doesn’t intend to be patted on the head and told to sit in a corner and to be quiet and obedient. At least the British government has seen the light and given certain women the right to vote in this year’s election.’ Aware that she might sound preachy, but annoyed by his sarcasm, she forged on. ‘The Great War has brought about many changes, good and bad, but in my opinion it’s been largely liberating for women, many of whom have had to do men’s work because the men were at the front.’
    The frankness and accuracy of her response made Randall McLean concede with a laugh, ‘I can’t argue with that. Many women adequately filled the void left by men serving in the war. However, do let me offer my commiserations to the man you’ll one day wed.’ Brown eyes twinkled with sardonic amusement, as if he were enjoying their verbal clash. ‘I believe you’ll lead him a merry chase, won’t you?’
    ‘Not if he sees things my way,’ she answered, less