So here he was.
To find the soldier who Miles had seen demoted and transferred, see if he bore a grievance.
Of course, Miles could well discover that Dempster was in no fit state to carry out any misdeeds, but perhaps an acquaintance had been persuaded into it.
He entered the hospital and, with permission from a doctor, went in search of Ward Five, which he’d been told was for ex-soldiers. Windows were thrown open within, likely to catchthe breeze from the east countryside, while nurses and families thronged the corridors.
“Excuse me.” The nurse held a bowl of indeterminate contents. “I’m seeking a Mr Dempster in this ward. He’s an old army friend.”
“That cheeky blatherer.” She tutted. “Halfway down. Bed ten. They’re numbered.”
“My thanks.” And Miles wandered the row. All were widely spaced as doubtless bed bugs were rife.
At Bed Ten, an unshaved fellow was sitting up dealing cards to himself.
One-handed as his other sleeve was neatly pinned at the shoulder.
He looked gaunt but not at death’s door.
“Dempster?”
A blue gaze that Miles now vaguely remembered peered up.
“Bloody ’ell, Captain Firth, as I live and breathe. Wot yer doing ’ere?” He struggled to sit up straighter. “Visiting someone?”
“Yes. You.”
“Me?” He puffed a breath. “Well, best rest yer arse on me silk chaise here, put yer feet up and I’ll send fer tea.”
Miles could not withhold a laugh as he sat on the too-small rickety wooden chair that looked to have come from a schoolroom; he missed army humour.
But as to the purpose of his visit.
“I… I’m just searching out some of the men who served under me at any point. See if they need anything?”
“Aye, a new arm.”
Miles laughed again. “What happened?”
“Bloody cannon fire. I woke on the field to a damn headache and no arm.”
“Waterloo, I assume?”
He nodded. “After my er…hijinks in those dragoons o’ yours, they transferred me to the 44thEast Essex.”
“A courageous regiment.” Nicknamed the Little Fighting Fours because, well, a large number of the men were short in stature. Nevertheless, short or not, they’d all received commendations for resilience and courage.
“We did our bit. Good bunch o’ lads although I missed the horses.”
Miles shifted. “You were…disgruntled with your transfer, were you not? I played a part in that.”
“I were at first, being such a cocky young bugger full of fire and piss, but…it were deserved, in truth. And as it turned out, that transfer were the best thing to happen ter me. 44thwere more me than them spruce dragoons. No offence, Captain,” he added with a broad gap-toothed grin.
“None taken.”
“And Jacob’s being modest,” chipped in a voice, “as cannon fire was only the half of it.”
Miles twisted to the young lad who’d called over from the next bed, his leg in some brace contraption.
