them as he sat beside Flora. ‘I’m joining
them later for a rally at Buckingham Palace.’
‘But you can’t,’ Flora said before she could stop herself. She grabbed his arm. ‘Will, don’t do it!’
He laughed, looking puzzled. Taking her small hands in his, he squeezed them. ‘Flora, what’s up?’
‘You can’t be recruited, Will. You must stay home.’
‘But it’s my duty,’ he told her patiently. ‘Britain must protect her little brother Belgium from Germany’s marauding armies.’
‘Not you,’ said Flora desperately. ‘You’ll soon be a baker.’
At this, he laughed, throwing back his head as his curls flopped over one eye. ‘I don’t want to be a baker. I never have. And now I’ve the chance to escape it.’
‘But to enlist, you must be eighteen!’
‘Who is going to check on an orphanage boy?’
Flora, holding Will’s slender hands tightly, looked at Hilda. ‘Hilda, how can we stop him?’
But Hilda, gazing into Will’s amused eyes, replied unhelpfully, ‘If I was a boy, I’d volunteer too.’
‘Outvoted,’ Will said, drawing Flora to him and kissing her cheek. ‘But thank you for caring, dearest.’
‘How can you even think of shooting someone? Or worse, them shooting you?’ Flora shuddered.
‘It won’t come to that,’ Will assured her. ‘The lads are certain the conflict will be over by Christmas.’
‘What time is your rally?’ asked Hilda. ‘I’d still like that ice cream.’
Will, laughing, jumped up, took their wrists and pulled them to their feet. ‘Come along then, girls. Ice creams it is. The recruitment office can wait.’
Flora allowed herself to be marched along, she in the middle now, with Hilda and Will on either arm. She wanted to join with their happy chatter, but she simply couldn’t. The young man
beside her would soon be wearing a fighting uniform and Hilda’s restless spirit refused to be caged for long. Flora loved her friends dearly. Will and Hilda were the only family she had ever
known. A brother and sister that she cherished as if they were her own blood. She didn’t want things to change.
Chapter One
Nine months later
‘Come now, Mr Pollard, rest easy and allow me to treat your wound.’
Flora held her breath as Dr Tapper gently persuaded the stricken man’s shoulders back onto the examination couch. She heard their patient’s half sob in response as he lay there. His
emaciated body under the dirty cloth of his cheap suit was shaking with fear.
‘Good man. Now bear with me while I see what’s to be done.’ Dr Tapper glanced at Flora who stood in readiness to help. ‘His boot first, nurse, if you please.’
Flora had no difficulty in removing the battered boot that hid a filthy sock beneath. But at the putrid stench of infection coming from his exposed leg, she had to steady herself. After Flora
eased the rough and bloodstained cloth to his knee, her eyes fell on the wound. Though she had assisted the doctor ever since leaving the orphanage three years ago, this was the worst sight she had
ever witnessed.
She heard the doctor’s indrawn breath and saw his grey head of hair shake almost imperceptibly. ‘Why didn’t you return to me sooner?’ the doctor asked, as Flora took the
sterilized scissors from the metal trolley and handed them to her employer. As the sodden bandages caked with pus and blood fell away, Flora found herself unable to distinguish what had once been a
human leg from a mass of diseased flesh.
‘I was afraid you’d chop off me leg,’ said the man with a choke, trying to hide the pain that had turned his gaunt face a marble-grey.
‘The decision isn’t for me to make,’ the doctor answered. ‘Now, hold still. I shall have my nurse clean your wound the best she can. Meanwhile, I’ll find you
something to ease the pain.’
The man caught the doctor’s arm. ‘I’m no use to me family with only one leg, Dr Tapper.’
‘You’re even less use to them dead,’ the doctor said
them later for a rally at Buckingham Palace.’
‘But you can’t,’ Flora said before she could stop herself. She grabbed his arm. ‘Will, don’t do it!’
He laughed, looking puzzled. Taking her small hands in his, he squeezed them. ‘Flora, what’s up?’
‘You can’t be recruited, Will. You must stay home.’
‘But it’s my duty,’ he told her patiently. ‘Britain must protect her little brother Belgium from Germany’s marauding armies.’
‘Not you,’ said Flora desperately. ‘You’ll soon be a baker.’
At this, he laughed, throwing back his head as his curls flopped over one eye. ‘I don’t want to be a baker. I never have. And now I’ve the chance to escape it.’
‘But to enlist, you must be eighteen!’
‘Who is going to check on an orphanage boy?’
Flora, holding Will’s slender hands tightly, looked at Hilda. ‘Hilda, how can we stop him?’
But Hilda, gazing into Will’s amused eyes, replied unhelpfully, ‘If I was a boy, I’d volunteer too.’
‘Outvoted,’ Will said, drawing Flora to him and kissing her cheek. ‘But thank you for caring, dearest.’
‘How can you even think of shooting someone? Or worse, them shooting you?’ Flora shuddered.
‘It won’t come to that,’ Will assured her. ‘The lads are certain the conflict will be over by Christmas.’
‘What time is your rally?’ asked Hilda. ‘I’d still like that ice cream.’
Will, laughing, jumped up, took their wrists and pulled them to their feet. ‘Come along then, girls. Ice creams it is. The recruitment office can wait.’
Flora allowed herself to be marched along, she in the middle now, with Hilda and Will on either arm. She wanted to join with their happy chatter, but she simply couldn’t. The young man
beside her would soon be wearing a fighting uniform and Hilda’s restless spirit refused to be caged for long. Flora loved her friends dearly. Will and Hilda were the only family she had ever
known. A brother and sister that she cherished as if they were her own blood. She didn’t want things to change.
Chapter One
Nine months later
‘Come now, Mr Pollard, rest easy and allow me to treat your wound.’
Flora held her breath as Dr Tapper gently persuaded the stricken man’s shoulders back onto the examination couch. She heard their patient’s half sob in response as he lay there. His
emaciated body under the dirty cloth of his cheap suit was shaking with fear.
‘Good man. Now bear with me while I see what’s to be done.’ Dr Tapper glanced at Flora who stood in readiness to help. ‘His boot first, nurse, if you please.’
Flora had no difficulty in removing the battered boot that hid a filthy sock beneath. But at the putrid stench of infection coming from his exposed leg, she had to steady herself. After Flora
eased the rough and bloodstained cloth to his knee, her eyes fell on the wound. Though she had assisted the doctor ever since leaving the orphanage three years ago, this was the worst sight she had
ever witnessed.
She heard the doctor’s indrawn breath and saw his grey head of hair shake almost imperceptibly. ‘Why didn’t you return to me sooner?’ the doctor asked, as Flora took the
sterilized scissors from the metal trolley and handed them to her employer. As the sodden bandages caked with pus and blood fell away, Flora found herself unable to distinguish what had once been a
human leg from a mass of diseased flesh.
‘I was afraid you’d chop off me leg,’ said the man with a choke, trying to hide the pain that had turned his gaunt face a marble-grey.
‘The decision isn’t for me to make,’ the doctor answered. ‘Now, hold still. I shall have my nurse clean your wound the best she can. Meanwhile, I’ll find you
something to ease the pain.’
The man caught the doctor’s arm. ‘I’m no use to me family with only one leg, Dr Tapper.’
‘You’re even less use to them dead,’ the doctor said
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