A week after returning from leave Shaun progressed in her training to trucks and heavy transport. With her two friends she was introduced to driving in convoy. Obstacles were set in the path of the vehicles. Shaun usually managed to ease her vehicle between Roxanne and Cynthia. They were shown how to manoeuvre around huge concrete blocks that reduced the width of the road to a single lane. They took tests on the Skid Pads and squealed in alarm as their vehicles swerved and rocked from side to side.
At night they drove along deserted country lanes. As her eyes became accustomed to the velvet blackness spangled with a myriad of stars, Shaun thought she had never seen a more beautiful sky. It reminded her of the walks along the moonlit beach with Maureen.
Full of confidence, almost arrogant about her ability to pass her final examination, with her instructor she went for her last lesson. Shaun sat behind the wheel of a Mac semi-trailer. She slammed her way through the gears, settling comfortably as she cruised along the dark lanes. The instructor smiled as her star pupil showed off her skills. They came to a village. A main street lined with cottages on either side. The lights from television sets thrown upon drawn curtains. The moon on it's back, over the roof tops, dimmed by passing clouds. She remembered the village close to the Convent. She thought of Maureen, wondered if she was really missing her. Eager to tell her she had passed all her tests, knowing she would be proud of her achievements.
There was a slight incline in the road that led from the village, at the bottom a lane on either side. Shaun saw the cross roads, then slowed down although she was aware she had the right-of-way. Seconds later their was a deafening crunch of metal on her near side. The semi lurched, Shaun stood on her brakes, spun the wheel to avoid slamming into the corner store. The Mac semi- trailer stopping inches from the plate-glass window. Shaun sat clutching the wheel, resting her head on her hands as she began a violent, uncontrollable shake.
The instructor jumped down from the cabin, worried about the people who had crashed into them.
The front of a small car had jammed itself under the edge of the semi. The two occupants scrambled out of the wreckage, thankful they were not hurt.
"Brakes failed," the driver told the instructor, "thank God your driver managed to swerve."
Shaun still shaking stood by the cabin door, not knowing how she climbed down. She stared at the wrecked vehicle unable to say a word. The car driver and his wife thanked her, praised her for her quick action.
The instructor looked at her pupil with pride.
"All right Maclaren," she said after the car had been towed away, "take the vehicle back to the motor pool for inspection."
"I can't Ma'am," Shaun told her lamely, trying to control her quivering hands. "I – I'm sorry Ma'am you'll have to drive."
The instructor stared at Shaun, her face flushed with anger,
"Now you listen to me Maclaren. You will get back in that cabin and take me to the barracks. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes Ma'am," she answered sheepishly as she started to climb into the cabin.
"Come along Maclaren!" the instructor said impatiently, "if you don't get into that cabin now and drive it will be all over with you. You'll be finished. It will be the end of your driving career."
Shaun hesitated. Half-way into the cabin she stopped, gasped, put her hand to her mouth to stifle a cry, she saw Casey Ann lying on the road.
"I can't Ma'am I can't," the tears streaming down her face, "it's Casey Ann," she cried, "please - you don't understand."
The instructor glared at her pupil, pulled her down from the side of the truck.
"Now you listen to me. You will get back in that cabin. You will drive back to the barracks. You will do it now and stand up straight when I'm talking to you."
"It's Casey Ann," Shaun protested, "It's Casey Ann – you don't understand."
"This Casey Ann nonsense has got to stop. It's all in your mind, and I do understand. Your background was taken into consideration before you joined the Service. Now get up in the cabin or you will be on fatigues for the rest of your life."
Shaun gaped at the instructor. She was terrified of sitting behind the wheel. She could still see Casey Ann, hear the screeching of brakes and the clanging of the ambulance siren. Automatically she did as she was told. She had trouble with her shaking hands as she turned the ignition key and the engine began to tick over.
"Well come along. What are we waiting for Maclaren?"
"Please Ma'am I think I've lost my nerve."
"You Shaun Maclaren are my star pupil. I will not allow you to let me down. Now put the bloody thing in gear and take me back to the barracks."
Shaun was surprised how smoothly her hands and feet managed the controls once the semi-trailer was moving. Instinctively the skills she had learned reappeared. Although she thought about Casey Ann as they drove towards the barracks, there was a calmness within her, a feeling she had never known before.
In the dark cabin she smiled at the instructor. Pleased that she had forced her to get behind the wheel. She pulled up at the officer's quarters.
"You did well Maclaren," the instructor told her as she climbed down from the cabin, "take the unit to the Motor Pool for inspection. I will take care of the details. Remember the accident was not your fault, and that your swift action probably saved two lives. Oh!, don't forget your finals tomorrow. Fourteen hundred sharp. I suggest you get a good nights sleep."
The test! the final exam. How could she forget? All the weeks of studying, worrying, at last it was here. She knew Maureen would be pleased when she passed. Tingling with excitement she drove towards the M.T. shed.
A few meters from the shed she saw Casey Ann lying in the middle of the road. Shaun jammed on her brakes. The airlock screamed as she pumped the peddle, The semi screeched to a stop a few feet from her sister.
Shaun clambered, fell out of the cabin, mesmerised by the sight of Casey Ann lying inches from the wheels of the semi-trailer. She tried to gather her sister up in her arms, scraped the road with her hands. Insensible to the pain of the cuts and bruises the gravel made on her arms, legs and palms of her hands.
"Casey Ann! Casey Ann!" she screamed. "Where are you? Please don't keep hiding from me. I know your Here – somewhere."
She knelt down again in front of the semi-trailer. Crawled along the road trying to find her sister.
"It's the tests!" she shouted in the hospital the following morning, struggling to get out of bed. "I can't be late. I've got to pass. "
She felt a sharp pain in her arms and hands as she tore at the bandages wrapped around them.
Exhausted she lay back on the bed. The memories of Casey Ann flooding her mind. She could almost touch her face, still flushed by the breeze from the sea as they stood at the side of the road at Westhill as dozens of Mac semi-trailers went by.
A nurse quickly drew the flowered curtain on the rail around her bed. Minutes later a doctor, an older man sat in a chair beside her.
"It seems right in a way that Casey Ann died," she observed as if talking to herself. "The only thing wrong is that I should have gone with her," she smiled at the doctor, "is that why she keeps calling me? I ought to go to her."
"You shouldn't say things like that Shaun."
"Why not? We both know it's the truth. Everyone told me it was my fault my sister died. I must go with her."
"No Shaun. You mean a lot to many people. I know how you must feel. Look to the future. You have your whole life in front of you."
She looked at the doctor, her eyes pleading for help, the silence between them unbearable. Gently he held her bandaged hands and looked deep into her eyes, as if attempting some kind of hypnosis.
"Your sister died a long time ago," he told her, "this feeling of despair, with help it will pass. You must realise that it is only certain things certain ideas that can trigger the memory. With our help you will learn to control them. I know you can overcome them."
Shaun nodded her agreement, wanting the doctor to go. Desperate to be on her own. She felt unable to cope with his sympathetic understanding the old man was trying so hard to offer. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes. The specious promise of a bright future. She knew she would never pass the test. Worst of all she had let Maureen down.
When the doctor left she slumped back against the pillows with an overwhelming sense of relief. Behind the drawn curtain she could hear the whisper of voices and assumed they were discussing her case. Her mind began to whirl as she remembered the recruiting officer's warning.
Shaun found it almost impossible to eat as she lay behind patterned curtains counting the bright flowers, longing for the night when she would be alone with her thoughts. When at last night came sleep eluded her. In the darkness she listened for the muffled cough, a body twisting and turning in sleep wishing it was her.
She thought that somewhere there had to be a joker who took a fiendish delight in turning the tables against her. Trying his hardest to destroy the memory of the good times she had with her cousin.
Shaun felt that one could have everything - or nothing. In the brooding shadows she listened to the voices inside her head. Remembered Maureen telling her she refused to believe in fate. That you made your own decisions in life no matter how painful it might be.
Suddenly aware it was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself, Shaun knew she had to make up her mind to get the best out of Army life. She accepted the fact that she would never sit behind the wheel of a semi-trailer again.
Cynthia visited her the following day. Told her that she had been posted to General Duties.
"I didn't want it to come as a shock. Thought it might soften the blow if I broke the news." The posting she knew was inevitable still filled Shaun with terror. She imagined herself peeling mountains of potatoes for the rest of her Army life.
"Did you and Roxanne pass?"
"Afraid we did," Cynthia answered with a smile.
The following day Shaun was discharged from hospital. In the evening with her two friends she went to the local dance.
Cynthia, still bright-eyed with relief and a sense of accomplishment, looked smart, and Shaun thought very pretty.
Roxanne, by far the more dazzling. Her make-up sophisticated, her hair, perfectly in place.
"There'll be some action here," she said full of confidence, "the Navy's arrived for special transport training."
The floor of the local Town hall was packed with couples. Some of the men dancing, many sitting around in groups at the tables. It was obvious there was a shortage of females. The only competition the girls from the village.
Shaun looked around, wanted to go back to the barracks. She knew if she did Cynthia and Roxanne might ask difficult questions and she wondered how long it would be before they found out that deep down inside her she really detested most males. She pushed the thoughts quickly out of her mind.
"Let's get a table," Cynthia suggested.
"Not yet Cyn," Roxanne replied smoothing the front of her skirt, "we'll take a walk and show ourselves. I want a chance to inspect the goods."
Roxanne moved away from the doors, her walk exaggerated by the tightness of her skirt. Shaun hung back, following her two friends at what, she considered to be a safe distance as Roxanne observing their audience as much as they were staring at her placed every male in a category of her own making.
Satisfied that the trap had been baited she selected a table at the far end of the hall. Cynthia sat next to her. Shaun, trying hard to conceal her feelings sat apart from them.
"Come on Shaun," Roxanne said loudly, "come and sit with us. You won't get a date sitting on your own."
Cynthia kicked Roxanne's shins under the table.
"Ouch! What the hell was that for?"
"Can't you see she's upset. I reckon that John of hers has dumped her. We didn't even see him when we came back off leave. She was with his sister Maureen something, some name like that."
"Serve her right Cyn," Roxanne commented," she's a moody bitch. Didn't even try and take her test."
"We ought to do something about it."
"We could write to this bloody John of hers, if we had the address."
Two Navy men came to their table, one with a gold ring on the sleeve of his jacket. He hovered over Roxanne. The other one appeared to be shy and stood back.
"Can we look after you? " The one with the gold ring asked.
"We can look after ourselves," Roxanne answered, her gaze holding onto his.
"I bet you can," he murmured, "do you mind if we join you? "
He saw the look that passed between them.
The hesitation in Cynthia's eyes. The reluctance in Shaun's.
He beckoned his friends to join him then aimed a smile directly at Roxanne.
There were hurried movements to find extra chairs as a man with two gold rings produced a bottle of scotch.
Roxanne told them about Cynthia throwing up after passing the test. Cynthia, her face red stood up, kicked back the chair and was about to hit her, when Roxanne changed the subject. She told them about Shaun not even taking the test because she had seen the ghost of her sister. They all laughed and said she was weird.
In the soft lighting over the tables Shaun watched as Roxanne downed a large scotch, then with Cynthia taken off for a dance. For a long time Shaun sat on her own sipping the beer that some one had bought her. She watched the couples gyrating under the coloured lights. It reminded her of Maureen when they danced at the Sandwood Hotel.
An Army lieutenant pulled up a chair abandoned by the couples. He sat opposite Shaun drinking in her troubled eyes and painted lips. Although she was only a private he thought that the smartness of her tunic and crispness of her shirt gave her an air of authority.
Shaun, aware of the fury inside her felt intensely uncomfortable under his stare. He was one of those people she had an burning desire to treat with contempt. She knew she dare not, afraid of the consequences if she were caught out. Her friends, she would lose them. The humiliation, the gossip, speculation, it would run riot all over the barracks.
The lieutenant having consumed more than a fair share of gin decided that there was something about her that excited him. In his befuddled mind she presented a challenge. He asked her for a dance. With natural propensity she declined. Seconds later wishing she hadn't. She stood up, intent on leaving. He pulled back the chair and whirled her across the dance floor before she was able to protest.
"Come on smile," he said holding her close to him, "let your hair down. You don't know what you're missing."
The smell of cigarettes and stale gin offended her. She managed to keep him at arms length. He mumbled something about John and her being a sullen little bitch, then swore as she ground her heel on his instep. Shaun felt he had tried his luck, thinking she might be easy, and smiled knowing she had wounded an officer's pride. Minutes later the music stopped and Shaun offered a silent prayer.
"I'm being transferred in the morning," she told him, hoping he might leave her alone. "Then I'll walk you back to the barracks, after we've had another drink."
"No thank you Sir," she said with a faint smile, "I have to get an early night."
He glared at her. Afraid of his reactions she promised to wait while he ordered more drinks from the bar. She sat at an empty table. Watched him place his arms around a female officer and kiss her. Anger, panic took over. She stood up, hoping he hadn't noticed, not caring if he had. In the moonlight she ran back to the barracks.
The hut was in darkness. Exhausted by her dash from the dance hall, without bothering to turn on the lights she undressed and got into bed. Staring into the blackness she wondered if the lieutenant had suspected the way she felt, decided he was probably too drunk to even notice.
She thought of Maureen and their special love. It didn't seem right to Shaun, that two people with a relationship such as theirs should be bound by morale conventions to hide their unending love.
She thought of Roxanne and her remarks as the hours of dark torment continued. She was drunk, perhaps more than usual, and Shaun hoped she had not encouraged Cynthia to celebrate her success in a similar way. Pride, then bitter fury took over as eventually she fell asleep.
She dreamed of her two friends, that they were drunk and fooling around. In her dreams she tried to help them. Heard herself telling them it was wrong. Roxanne was swearing about John, that they were going to stop him from ruining her life.
Shaun awoke long before Reveille. Her locker had been broken open. All Maureen's letters were strewn over the floor. As tears welled in her eyes, she gathered them up and returned them to their special place. She sat on the bed and cried, knowing her two friends would have read of her secret.
In the half light Roxanne crept up behind her and held her by the hair. Cynthia, a wild look in her eyes, filled with a loathing of her one-time friend, struck Shaun across the face.
"You Lesbo Bitch!" Roxanne screamed, "there never was any John. All the time it was your cousin, the one at the station. Wasn't she enough? Is that why you've been making up to the officers. Instructor's star pupil, Ha! we all know why that is. So will everyone else. We'll make sure of that."
The enmity hung in the air for a long moment between the three of them. To Shaun held in a vice like grip by her hair, unable to break free it was more than a challenge. It was like a gauntlet thrown down. One she was aching to take up.
Roxanne, naked, dragged her off the bed and forced her to stand beside Cynthia, wearing only her pyjama top. They stared at her, their eyes eager for bloody combat and war for their pleasure, neither willing to listen to Shaun's pleas for understanding. She remembered the new woman's warning at Morris and Sons.
"Look at the pair of you," she screamed in her own defence, "you're a bloody sight worse than I've ever been, You've been sleeping together, playing with each other for months, can't get a man between you. We, Maureen and I at least love each other, and I'm not ashamed of our love."
As Shaun struggled free Roxanne tore out a handful of her hair and Cynthia struck her across the other side of her face. Her head spinning, Shaun clutched the bedspread as she fell to the floor. The drab coloured cover wrapping itself around her like a drapery in an old Roman play.
"Maclaren Ma'am."
Shaun fell in behind the Admin Sergeant, drew herself to attention and saluted.
"At ease Maclaren," the officer sat poised on the edge of her chair. Her elongated face set in serious expression. It gave Shaun the impression that she had caused the officer considerable effort.
"As you were informed by the recruiting officer," she continued, "if you failed in any of your driving examinations as set down by the Service you would be transferred to G. D. It is my painful duty to inform you that you have been found unfit to drive service or maintain any Army vehicle that you are being transferred. Because of a recent incident in your quarters, which will not be noted on your records. I have arranged for you to be sent to a training depot in the Southern Command, where you will be trained as a stewardess."
The officer smiled at her. It was a friendly smile. To Shaun it seemed to be filled with a warmth and understanding that she had only ever seen in the eyes of her cousin. The Sergeant standing on the opposite side of the desk nodded her agreement.
"You have our deepest sympathy over the loss of your sister. Even though it was a long time ago, one can never forget. To avoid further problems we suggest you leave for your new posting as quickly as possible. The Sergeant will escort you to the rail station."
Shaun looked at the officer in amazement.
"It's for your own good Maclaren," the officer continued, feeling the need to qualify her actions, "we believe that contact with Howard or Anderson would not serve any useful purpose. The Sergeant will give you your travel warrants and other documents. That will be all Maclaren. Good luck to you. You are dismissed. "
For Shaun it was another new beginning, and Roxanne and Cynthia were out of her life forever.
After six weeks of intensive training she was posted to a special unit. They had asked for someone who could look after them without supervision.
The posting, near the coast was only a few miles from the Sandwood Hotel. Eagerly she wrote to her cousin. Maureen delighted, stayed with Shaun at the Sandwood hotel whenever she managed to get a weekend pass.
Shaun took pride in her work. The officers, all nursing sisters who she looked after were kind and understanding, never questioning her relationship with her cousin. When they saw them together at the hotel or a dance they greeted Shaun and Maureen like old friends.
For over a year Shaun found a happiness that knew no bounds. She whisked through her work, wrote regularly to her mother and longed for her weekends with Maureen.
The other stewardesses were all friendly, sharing with Shaun their worry over their latest romances. Each of them knowing that Shaun Maclaren would listen to their special problems.
"If you want to go and see him I'll cover for you," she told Sarah a stewardess in the officer's mess, "you sure you're doing the right thing."
"I love him," Sarah told her, "I really do. He's lost his job, says he needs me. Please Shaun, cover for me, just this once."
"Of course I will. I can understand you wanting to marry him, but –"
"But what?"
"Don't get me wrong Sarah. I know you love him. Have you really thought it through? I'll cover for you for a few days. If you do go AWOL, get married without permission, you could be in a hell of a lot of trouble." Shaun stopped. Angry with herself. What right had she to tell Sarah what she should or should not do?
"I know I shouldn't have said anything. Please Sarah don't get upset. All I meant was, you are only eighteen, not bad looking – and there is plenty of time. The right kind of love will come along — one day."
Although it annoyed her, Sarah knew Shaun was right.
"If he really loved me he wouldn't dream of asking me to go AWOL would he?" she said suddenly after moments of silence.
"I bet the bastard only want to marry me so he can get half my pay and not have to work anymore."
"Then you're not upset with me?"
Sarah flung her arms around her. "You are silly Shaun Maclaren. How could anyone be upset with you? What are friends for if we can't be honest with one another. I do really need you as a friend."
Within a month Sarah had forgotten all about getting married. A new romance had entered her life. A lieutenant from somewhere up North.
Remembering the warmth and understanding Shaun had given her brought a grim smile to Sarah's face when she saw Shaun a few weeks later. There was no denying Shaun Maclaren had changed. Sarah thought she was sickening for something, and when she went to bed the moment she had finished her duties, Sarah became more than a little concerned.
Shaun admitted she had been getting some bad headaches and cramps in her stomach. Sarah at first put it down to unusual period pains and thought she might even be pregnant, dismissing the idea the instant she thought of it.
Maureen thought she looked pale. It was obvious she had slipped up in her appearance having abandoned the regular pressing and cleaning of her uniform. She seemed to have neglected her hair, and on their last weekend at the Sandwood Maureen offered to fix it for her. Shaun just glared at her and went to bed.
For hours Maureen lay awake worrying about her cousin. When Shaun began to cry in the middle of the night with pains in her stomach, Maureen told her she should go and see a doctor, or at least talk to one of the nursing Sisters.
"Why don't you leave me alone?" Shaun screamed at her, "it's only a pain because I've eaten too much of the wrong food."
Sarah, aware of the special relationship between Shaun and her cousin, had come to accept their unusual way of life even though she felt unable to condone it. But Shaun Maclaren was her friend and now she needed help.
Friendly towards Maureen for Shaun's sake, she kept that friendship at a safe distance. Over lunch at the Sandwood hotel they talked about their mutual friend.
"She has to see a doctor," Sarah told Maureen, "she can't go on crying every night in agony. It's affecting her work, and her appearance. If she's not careful someone is bound to notice and put in a complaint."
Maureen suggested that they should both have a word with one of the Army nursing Sisters.
Shaun's bed was opposite the ward door. With the television set above her head everyone stared her way, although she was unable to watch the programs. The ward Sister came in and fussed around the patients who sat in chairs or on the edge of their beds.
"It's gone seven Sister! " someone called as the ward door moved slightly.
The Sister looked around her Kingdom.
"No one is coming in the ward until it is straight and tidy."
The breeze that moved the door strengthened, opening it a little further. Suddenly a horde of people spilled into the ward, each going in a different direction. Eyes, fixed on a bed.
"Why am I here? how did I get here? " Shaun asked as Maureen and Sarah sat by her bed.
"You collapsed last night in the mess," Sarah told her, "I phoned Maureen, she sat with you all night."
"You've had a few tests," Maureen added, laying the flowers she had bought on the bed, "they told me you'll be going to a civilian hospital tomorrow. Do you want me to tell Aunt Rachel?"
"No, not really. Mum will only think the worst and start worrying. You know what she's like." It seemed they had only just arrived, when the bell to clear the ward rang. Maureen wanted to stay longer, but the ward Sister gave her a stare. They kissed Shaun goodbye and she watched as Sarah followed by Maureen left the ward.
Every day at the civilian hospital Shaun was given a test. They gave her a long tube to swallow, and when she gagged they pushed it up her nose. She had Barium meals, X-rays and scans. Then there were days when she was not allowed to eat a thing. She detested the notice above her bed that said 'Nil By Mouth'.
For Shaun the nights were worse than the days. There was no such thing as silence. Someone was always stirring, groaning, coughing or muttering. There was a whisper of the night nurses behind jabbing flashlight beams, and the slow, slow hiss of oxygen.
Outside the muted moan of the night traffic from the road that ran alongside the hospital. There were shuntings in the railway yards not far away. The clanging of buffers, the soft pantings of locomotives with an occasional snort like an animal in pain.
Amidst the faint mournful cry of train whistles Shaun wished she was back at the Army base hospital, where at least she would have a visit from her beloved Maureen.
The following morning she struggled out of bed and gingerly made her way towards the window. Dizziness overcame her. She looked around for a chair, grabbed the window sill for support as she slid gently to the floor. Someone pressed the emergency bell a nurse appeared, lifted her up and sat her in a wheel chair.
"You shouldn't be out of bed Miss Maclaren," she said sternly, "they're sending you back to the Army base the day after tomorrow."
At the Army hospital she was forced to stay in bed for the next four days. The Sisters she had looked after visited her and Maureen came every night. Even the orderlies treated her with a special consideration, aware of the cautious interest in the air, of the knowing looks that understood.
A civilian doctor and an Army Captain sat by her bed.
"You are being discharged from the Service," the Captain informed her, "you have been classed as being medically unfit. It will take a few weeks to transfer you out."
"Why?" Shaun asked as the tears welled in her eyes, "Everyone knows I can do my work. The Army is my life," she pleaded, "It's all I've ever wanted. It isn't fair. Surely I have the right to appeal."
"You have a few medical and psychiatric problems," the civilian doctor said softly, "these problems have to be dealt with by specialists. It's no disgrace Shaun. The medical board has examined your case most carefully. They are of the opinion that you are not fit for further military service. Unfortunately I have to agree with them."
The day Shaun left the hospital a sadness came over her. More than a sadness, a feeling of hopelessness. She wanted to with Maureen, knowing she would understand. But the Army Admin Corps told her to stay at her mother's house. It was they said, the address to which her discharge would be sent. Her mother being her only next of kin.
Shaun wrote to her mother, telling her she was coming home, of her medical discharge from the Service. That she would have special treatment from civilian doctors for a few months. She knew she would have the love and support she longed for from her mother. There was no reply to her letter, no welcome awaiting her.
She stored her service trunk and cases under the house, knowing she would have to stay in her old room, where there was barely sufficient space for a bed and a few clothes. It was late when her mother and Pauline arrived home, their greeting cold and unfriendly. Shaun assumed that they were just over tired. Pauline told her she was expecting her husband home on leave within a few days.
Her mother glared at her.
"You're a dismal failure Shaun Maclaren," she said angrily. "It's all the fault of that Maureen. I know I should never have allowed her to stay here. The two of you sleeping together. No wonder you were thrown out of the Army. It was because of her you joined up." Shaun began to protest, her mother ignored her and went to bed. Every night Shaun cried herself to sleep. During the day she went for long walks, sat on a bench in the park, or drank endless cups of coffee in cafes down the high street. All she wanted was to get back in the Army or go and stay with Maureen.
She had to report to the barracks three times a week. It was impossible to go down to the coast and back, even on a weekend. She had a driving license but no vehicle.
Shaun pleaded, begged the Army to consider taking her back. The Depot Commander felt sorry for her. She thought that by some stroke of good fortune her medical condition might have improved. She studied Shaun's service record, decided that she deserved a last chance. For a week Shaun stayed at the hospital. There were more tests, X-rays, examinations and consultations. In the privacy of her room she wrote every day to Maureen, asking her not to reply to her letters in case Pauline or her mother might pick them up.
At the end of the week the hospital doctor confirmed the medical boards findings, that Shaun Maclaren was unfit for military service.
No one visited her at the hospital and when she arrived home Pauline was full of unwarranted criticism, her mother ignoring her completely. Shaun treated their attitudes with contempt hoping that one day her mother might listen to her, perhaps even forgive her. Pauline's husband came home on a months leave from the Air Force, and life for Shaun became unbearable with Pauline watching her every movement.
Shaun came home late from one of her walks. She felt tired, drained and irritable having just got her period. A letter was waiting, that her mother had opened telling her that her discharge from the Army was complete. The following morning she reported to the service depot collected her records and went down to the coast where she knew Maureen would be waiting.