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we’d be moving soon.
    The chocolates and biscuits were very popular, as were the magazines. I handed out copies of the British The War Pictorial and The War Illustrated as well as the Australian The Bulletin . The most popular magazine, however, was an Australian publication: Motor Cycling . It seemed the patients were happy to forget about the war for a while, and contemplate motor cycles instead.
    I’d been around the ward and was about to leave when Lydia came bustling through the door. ‘Flora!’ she exclaimed. ‘Well, fancy meeting my partner in crime here!’
    The patients sat up and took notice. ‘Partner in crime?’
    ‘Tell us about it, nurse!’
    Lydia glanced at me. I shrugged. I didn’t mind if she told them. Lydia gave the whole ward the story of her encouraging Gwen and me to try our first cigarettes.
    The patients were laughing when the matron appeared at the door. ‘Well, you’ve certainly cheered everyone up,’ she said to me. It sounded more like an accusation than a compliment.
    ‘I’ll be happy to come and do it again,’ I said.
    ‘Come again!’
    ‘Come soon!’
    ‘Bring your American friend!’ the soldiers called. The matron did not look as if another visit from me was something she’d look forward to.
    ‘I’ll say hello to Lady Bellamy for you, shall I?’ I suggested. That should take care of her, I thought.
    Lydia walked me out.
    ‘The men said you’d be moving to an Australian hospital by the pyramids soon,’ I probed.
    ‘I’ll be happy when it happens,’ said Lydia. ‘Working for the British isn’t my idea of a good time.’ She stopped and faced me. ‘Speaking of good times, a group of nurses and officers are going on a picnic to the pyramids soon. Would you and Gwen like to come?’
    Why not? I thought. A picnic with Australians would be fun.
    ‘I’ll have to check with Gwen, and her mother,’ I said. ‘But I’m sure Mrs Travers won’t object to us going with a group of nurses.’ I wouldn’t emphasise the Australian officers, I thought.
    We made arrangements, and I went down the steps of the hospital where Mr Hussein was waiting for me. Soon, I thought, I’ll have a motorcar of my own and won’t have to be collected every time I want to go somewhere.
    ‘Could I drive?’ I asked eagerly.
    ‘Be very careful with the traffic,’ he cautioned. ‘It is much busier in the city than out by the pyramids. Steer carefully.’
    I threaded my way through the streets, between donkeys, horse-drawn carriages, the occasional camel and motorcar. My mind, though, wasn’t entirely on my driving. Would Mr Khalid find us somewhere to stay in time?

Chapter 6

    ‘Yes,’ Mr Khalid said. ‘I have been giving this a great deal of thought.’
    I looked at him expectantly. ‘You’ve found us another hotel?’
    ‘No,’ said Mr Khalid. ‘Finding a hotel has been impossible, sadly. The hotels are full, or they are being requisitioned by the military.’
    I hadn’t thought anything was impossible for Mr Khalid. ‘What are we going to do then? We can’t give up and go back to Australia. Fa would rather live in a tent.’ Goodness, I thought. I hoped that wasn’t the solution.
    ‘He will not have to,’ said Mr Khalid. ‘I have an alternative which I think will be acceptable. Would you like to see it?’
    ‘What is it?’ I asked.
    ‘I think you should see first,’ Mr Khalid said. ‘Mr Wentworth told me he was too busy to come. He is happy to leave it to you.’
    Mr Hussein drove us towards the city. I wondered what Mr Khalid had found. A guesthouse on one of the islands in the river? A houseboat, even? But we drove past the river and further into the city. As we entered the bazaar area the streets began to narrow. Walls rose high above our heads, gradually shutting out the sky. Washing flapped above us. Scents of incense and spicy cooking floated into the car. Shadows slid along the walls as people passed by. Soon we were so far into the city the streets were in