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“Here.” Emmie grabbed up Fran’s coffee cup from the table. “Oh dear, I wish we had some sugar. Sugar is meant to be good for shock.”

“Sherry,” said Alice, turning with sudden decision for the door of the barrack. “What you need is sherry. I have some in my trunk. For medicinal purposes. If this isn’t a medicinal purpose, I don’t know what is.”

“No—no—” Fran waved her arms futilely at them both. “The last thing I need is spirits at eight in the morning! Or your whole sugar ration. And aren’t you supposed to be at the dispensary?”

Alice bit her lip, looking back over her shoulder as though unsure what to do. “Miss Mills and Dr. Pruyn have already gone. They won’t miss me for a bit. They’ll probably be glad I’m not there. I’m always dropping the bandages.”

“What can we do?” Kate asked quietly.

Fran put her hands to her temples. “A train. I’ll need to take the train to Paris. My aunt will need bucking up. They’ve kept house together since my father died. And there’ll be practical matters to be dealt with. How long do you think it will take to get passage out?”

“I think you need to wait six weeks before they let you go,” said Margaret Cooper. Emmie had forgotten she was there, she had been standing so quietly. “Someone mentioned it to me in Paris—I think it’s so they can make sure you’re not taking home unauthorized information from the war zone.”

“Six weeks? But the funeral . . . Oh heavens, what am I saying? I’ll miss the funeral either way. And Freddie—Freddie is over here too. Poor mother. We never imagined . . .”

“Maybe they’ll let you go sooner since it’s a bereavement,” suggested Liza.

Fran shook her head. “I doubt it. And if so, they shouldn’t. I could be faking it, for all they know. No, I’ll wait my time. Maybe they’ll let me see Freddie. . . .” She turned her head so they couldn’t see her lip wobble, saying in a falsely energetic voice, “He’s younger. He’ll need me.”

“Well, I think you should go at once,” said Maud, even though no one had asked her. “Come along, Liza. We’re meant to be stacking boxes.”

“Do you think we ought to send flowers?” Emmie heard Liza whisper as she followed Maud out the door.

“Where would we send flowers? To the second barrack from the left?”

“I just thought that we ought to do something. . . .” The door thumped shut, cutting off their voices.

Fran buried her head in her hands, choking on a laugh. “I can’t say I’ll miss them, but I’ll miss you. I’ll miss all of you. I’ll even miss that hideous Ford truck.”

“Only on a downgrade.” Kate reached out, not quite touching her. “I’m so sorry, Fran.”

“It comes to us all, I suppose.” Fran managed a crooked smile. “I’m sure my mother is feeling terribly vindicated.”

“I can go up to Paris with you until you sail,” offered Alice with sudden resolve. “I’ve got to run Dr. Pruyn and Miss Mills on their rounds, but then I’ll come back and go with you. We can catch an afternoon train from Noyon.”

“We’ll be down two chauffeurs that way.” Fran winced. “I mean, you’ll be down two chauffeurs. Won’t Mrs. Rutherford object?”

Alice hunched her shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to be alone in Paris while you wait out your six weeks.”

“Thank you. I won’t say no to that.” Fran blinked rapidly. “I need to tell Mrs. Rutherford. And I’ll need to pack. . . .”

“I’ll help you pack,” Emmie said quickly, feeling like she ought to do something. “You don’t need to worry about a thing; just let the rest of us take care of you.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Fran protested. “Mother was the invalid.”

“You’re the least invalid-ish person I know,” said Kate bracingly. To Emmie, she said, “We’re meant to be going to Courcelles. Remember?”

“I suppose we could go to Courcelles another day?” Emmie hated the idea of giving up Courcelles, but they couldn’t possibly leave Fran by herself, not after news like that.

“No,” said Fran quickly. “No, don’t put it off. The work is the important thing. I’ve held you up enough already—”

“I can go to Courcelles,” offered Margaret tentatively. “I was supposed to be driving Dr. Stringfellow, but she’s busy with Mrs. Rutherford.”

“That’s all right, then, isn’t it?” said Alice as it belatedly occurred to Emmie that if Margaret could go to Courcelles, she could equally well have stayed with Fran, and that both Emmie and Margaret would probably have preferred that.

But it was too late now. Kate was giving Fran a quick hard hug and telling her how much she’d be missed, and Margaret was buttoning up her uniform jacket and grabbing her hat, and Alice flitted off to the dispensary, and Emmie was left pressing coffee on Fran, who didn’t seem to want either coffee or sympathy, but only to be left alone.

Fran didn’t need Emmie’s help with packing. Alice’s belongings were scattered all over the room, a small mirror hanging crookedly over a makeshift dressing table, hats in a drift on the floor, a shawl trailing over the end of a cot, but Fran’s belongings were all neatly folded in her trunk in lieu of a wardrobe. It was the work of only a few moments to add her nightclothes and hairbrush.