“So,” she said, pointing to the bicycles. “I think you’re going to like your living accommodations. I’m not sure what your situation was at your last post, but I’ve heard some real horror stories. One of the other gals came here after working in India. Apparently, she once woke to a cow in her tent. It was licking her face. Because they’re sacred, she had to shoo it out with a scarf. The next day she woke to find two in the tent.”
I laughed. “There were no cows in my tent. Just twenty women, a few rats, and a snake or two every so often. Oh, and mosquitos.”
“You’ll definitely prefer what we have here.” She gave me a little grin, pulled a bike free, and pointed to the one next to it. “The only bad part is it’s about a mile away. I actually don’t mind. The ride is beautiful. But after a day of work in the field, it can be exhausting having to pedal home. Especially in the dark. Some of the girls walk their bikes, or don’t even bother with them if they’ve had a particularly grueling day.” She frowned then. “You can ride, right?”
“Of course,” I said, pulling a bicycle free and setting my bag in the basket on the front of it. I held it in place with one hand as I looked to Luella, who nodded and took off pedaling.
She wasn’t lying. The countryside was stunning. Green and lush with small stone cottages nestled into the countryside, their gardens flowering, and views of the valley below sweeping. I grinned into the wind, the warm summer air embracing me as we rode.
As we came around a bend in the road I gasped. Ahead of us, standing majestically against the green countryside, was a stunning mansion made of cream-colored stone. The courtyard in front boasted a fountain that didn’t seem to be running, and impeccably kept gardens. It reminded me of another country home I’d known.
Luella turned into the driveway of the house, and my mouth fell open as I followed.
“Are you serious?” I asked when I pulled up next to her at the foot of the front porch.
“Welcome to Fulbeck Manor,” she said, and then led me to the side of the house where several bicycles were parked.
“We take turns cleaning,” she said as she led me into the grand entryway. “There’s a sign-up sheet here.” She tapped a clipboard on the foyer table. “Of course, if you end up called out on the day you’re signed up for, someone will move your name down the list.”
“How many women live here?”
“We had twenty-four. Then twenty-three. You make us twenty-four again.”
Luella spoke in a way I appreciated—straight to the point, informative, and efficient. My father would’ve attributed it to being around men. I’d often been told I spoke in a similar manner. I attributed it to having parents who didn’t have time for what they referred to as the “flowery details of life” that no one needed.
She led me through the downstairs, showing me the kitchen, the dining room, three sitting rooms, two bedrooms, and the bathrooms before leading me up one of the two staircases.
“There are twelve rooms so we all share,” she said. “Some of the nicer furniture was moved for safekeeping and cots brought in. You’re sharing a room with Hazel. She’s swell. A hard worker.”
She stopped at a closed door where a piece of paper announced “Hazel and...” I peered at the name beneath that had been scratched out.
“Who’s Deidre?” I asked.
“She left. Cracked up.”
I nodded. It happened. Not just to the soldiers who saw and took part in the atrocities, but to those who cared for them after.
She knocked then opened the door and I followed her into my new bedroom and looked around. It was clear which side of the room was mine, as my new roommate’s things were strewn all over hers.
“Hazel is a bit unkempt,” Luella said with a laugh as I set my bag down beside my cot. “I believe she’s off, which means she’s probably at the mess hall since she’s not here. It’s sort of the social hub on base. If you’d like, I could take you there and introduce you to whoever’s around. I have to get back to shuffling papers, but one of the other girls could show you around base more thoroughly.”
“Sounds good,” I said and followed her back out to our bikes.
The mess hall was no different than any other I’d been in. Busy and loud. Luella led me to the buffet where we took what little was left and sat at the far end of a table full of women.
“Ladies!” Luella called, waiting until all heads had turned our way. “This is Kate.”
I smiled and was instantly barraged with questions.
“They send you straight from Bowman?” a woman asked, her eyes narrowed as she took in my clean uniform, washed hair, and clean nails.
Everyone here looked tired. Ragged from little sleep and long shifts. I realized how I must look to them with my clean, shining hair, pressed suit, and many nights of restful sleep.
New. Inexperienced. And like a liability.
“No,” I said, taking a seat. “I’m just coming back after an injury. I was in Espiritu Santo before that.”
I got several blank looks in response.
