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The lecture on a new surgical technique ended with a round of polite applause. Meg closed her notebook and stood, hand on lower back, and stretched. Beside her, Doctors Ransom and Newton became involved in a discussion of the technique.
Meg looked around at the assembled medical personnel, inspired by what they were collectively achieving. Honoured at being one of the youngest sisters-in-charge, she was also excited. They were on the cutting edge of surgical advances and medical treatments, and she had a small, but important, role to play. Tomorrow, she would instruct her nurses on the changes from tonight’s lecture. But her delight at being part of this had been tempered by the commander’s introduction, that more medical advances occurred during wars than in peace time. New weapons, often more devastating to the human body, required new surgical techniques.
‘Sister Dorset?’ The woman’s voice was familiar and Meg turned to discover an old friend.
‘Pat!’ They exchanged a happy, one-armed hug and looked at each other. ‘You look well. Where are you stationed?’
‘You wouldn’t believe my luck. I was sent to Brisbane after the evac from Darwin, and, as luck would have it, I was in the right place at the right time. Maybe because I’d been in Darwin during the bombing—I don’t know—but I was selected for this visit to the north. Where did you end up?’
‘Currajong, Central Sick Quarters here in Townsville.’
‘How is it?’
‘I love it. I’ve learned so much, and the doctor in charge of my team made me his head nurse. I reckon that was luck at work too. I was the first and only nurse for the first few days so he trained me to his requirements and put me in charge. Can you imagine?’
‘Well done. Are you staying for the dinner? I hope so. I want to catch up now. We can sit together and chat.’
‘I should check if that’s okay with Dr Ransom. Hang on a minute.’ She stepped up beside Doc and waited until he finished talking to Don Newton then asked if he minded if she sat with a friend.
Doc glanced at Pat and smiled. ‘Of course.’ He resumed his conversation and Meg hurried back to Pat.
‘That’s your doctor? You lucky duck! He’s cute, and his Yankee friend’s not bad either.’ Envy tinged Pat’s voice and she nodded towards a portly, middle-aged man standing near the door. ‘Behold, my travelling companion. Want to swap?’
Meg laughed and threaded an arm through Pat’s. ‘I’ll hold onto mine for now, thanks.’ They headed into the dining hall and found seats together near the door, away from the bigwigs at the head table.
‘So tell me, do you have a thing for your Dr Gorgeous?’ Pat flicked her serviette open and set it across her lap as lower-ranked soldiers co-opted to wait on table began serving bowls of soup.
‘Of course not.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m engaged.’
‘What? When?’ Pat set a hand on her arm and peered into her eyes. ‘It’s only been—what, five months since I saw you and there was no fiancé then.’
‘Remember Corporal Flanagan? Seamus and I worked at Adelaide River for several weeks. We fell in love and he asked me to marry him.’
‘Flanagan? My goodness, Meg. I thought you’d have aimed higher. You could easily catch a doctor. Why settle for a corporal?’
Pat’s cavalier attitude stung. Meg hadn’t taken her for a social climber, but maybe that’s what came of working with the higher ups in the service. She shrugged. ‘When you fall in love with someone, that’s all there is to it. As soon as he gets back on leave, we’ll marry.’
Doc and Don Newton arrived late to the table, still deep in conversation. They stopped, looked around and, discovering two empty chairs across the table from Meg and Pat, took them.
‘Margaret, who’s your friend?’ Geoff smiled at her.
Conversation flowed and Meg gradually relaxed. Pat’s comment wasn’t anything new. Most nurses would set their caps at a doctor, and why not? But Meg had fallen in love with Seamus and his poetic soul. She admired Geoff in much the same way as she admired Don Newton. Of course Geoff would be a good catch. If she wasn’t already engaged, and if she wasn’t in love with her fiancé, she might have fallen for him.
Meg set her cutlery on her plate and turned to her friend. ‘Tell me about working in Brisbane, Pat.’
Over post-dinner drinks, Geoff introduced Meg to a small group of surgeons as ‘my excellent head nurse, Margaret Dorset, a matron in the making if ever I saw one’. She gave an embarrassed half smile and sipped her soft drink.
A tiny flutter in her womb as she had sat at the dining table gave her a moment of wonder, quickly followed by a heavy sense of guilt. By rights she should have told Doc about her pregnancy and accepted whatever decision he made for the good of the unit, but she had clung to the idea of training up her replacement before she told him. This flutter meant her baby was real. If her pregnancy went well, he or she would arrive in four or five months. The baby would be dependent on her for everything since she doubted Seamus would be home. The war wasn’t going to end just because she wanted it to, but her responsibility for this little person was just beginning.
Worries circled in her mind, chasing one another around and around. She had no answers. Not yet. Going home to her parents wasn’t an option. Unmarried, she would be a stain on their good name. A different city then. How would she cope alone? Where would she live? No, where would they live?
It was late as Meg climbed into the jeep beside Doc. The meal had been better than she was used to, and once Pat got over her disappointment in Meg’s engagement to Seamus, they had chatted non-stop. Then Doc had been so intent on connecting with as many surgeons from other units as he could that it was nearly midnight. Suppressing a yawn, a wave of fatigue hit Meg.
Doc laughed. ‘Clearly you’re out of practice enjoying yourself at a party, Margaret.’ He started the engine, put the jeep into gear, and headed towards the sentry at the front gate. ‘Is everything okay? You were quiet after dinner.’
‘Too much work makes Jill a dull girl and all that.’ She set an elbow on the door rim and cupped her cheek. ‘I apologise in advance if I fall asleep on the way home. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.’
‘Then I’ll endeavour to avoid all potholes, so I don’t wake you, unless you snore?’
‘Thanks, although I can’t comment on the snoring.’
It would be so easy to misconstrue his light-hearted question and familiar tone for more than it was. Doc knew she was engaged, but he was an honourable man.
Beneath bright moonlight the road unwound north to Townsville. Trees tipped with silver loaned the night a special magic. Imagining they were on the way home from a party, Meg dozed off.
Air raid sirens wailed.
Meg shot up in her seat, praying they were a nightmare. Ahead, the road lay clear in the bright light of a full moon. Above, a steady droning noise.
‘It’s a bomber’s moon all right. Blackout restrictions won’t help now.’
‘Should we turn back to Oonoonba?’ Meg held her hat and tipped her head back, scanning the sky. ‘There! He’s right above us.’
‘I’m pulling off the road.’ Doc wrenched the steering wheel and slid to a stop on the shoulder. ‘Get out of the car, Margaret. Now!’
She scrambled out, her legs like jelly, but she ran.
Doc grabbed her hand and drew her into the cover of some spindly trees. ‘Get down.’ His free hand pushed on her back and the other pulled her down.
Meg sprawled in the grass. Both hands covered her head, but the drone of the plane was clear. Inside her, something fierce and brave was awakened and she rolled onto her side. Under the light of the moon, the bomber pilot would be able to see the coast and the town. If she was going to die in a bombing raid, she preferred to face it.
A bomb dropped out of the belly of the plane and headed for them and suddenly Margaret wasn’t certain she wanted to see her end plummeting towards her. The bomb exploded further back along the road they’d travelled from Oonoonba. Was that the ground shuddering from the impact, or her frightened body losing control?
Unable to look away she watched the plane, waiting for more bombs to drop, accepting whatever fate had in store for her.
Light machine guns began firing from somewhere not far away. Doc shook his head. ‘The plane’s well out of their range, but look, Margaret. Look at the sky.’
More than a dozen searchlights criss-crossed, sweeping, seeking, trapping the enemy plane in their beams. They held it perfectly as it flew towards the town.
Rapid-fire artillery followed along the lines of light and burst in puffy explosions. She’d seen it before, that valiant, useless firing. ‘The ack-ack shells aren’t reaching it. They’re exploding way too low. The same happened in Darwin.’
But it wasn’t the same. This was night time. There were no waves of planes flying in formation and raining death and destruction on a vulnerable town. The searchlights had located and held a single bomber.
The ack-ack guns fired again before several RAAF fighter planes joined the aerial dance. Meg kneeled up, willing them to bring down the enemy plane. Red tracer bullets lit up a path towards the bomber. One long burst hit the bomber’s tail and a yellow light erupted.
Meg clasped her hands under her chin. ‘He’s hit! I think the bomber’s losing height.’
‘Maybe. It’s difficult to tell from here. Look, the fighter plane’s going back around. He’ll have another go at him. Damn, they’re moving out of our line of sight.’ Doc pushed to his feet and offered his hand to Meg.
She took it but stumbled in the tussocky grass.
Doc’s hands shot out and caught her as she fell sideways against him.
Her shoulder knocked into his chest, but the moment his hand touched her stomach, he stilled.
Meg froze. The moonlight revealed his frown. Surprise, disbelief, followed by indecision as he seemed to weigh up whether to ask her outright.
He knows. Confess it now and see what he says.
She moistened her lips and stepped away from him.
‘Margaret?’
‘Yes, Dr Ransom, I am pregnant. I was planning to have worked out who should be my replacement and have her up to speed before I told you. I apologise for the manner in which you found out. It wasn’t what I intended.’ Proud of how she held it together, Meg knew she’d taken formal to a new high, but there was no instruction manual for handling such a situation.
She held her head high, but the look on Doc’s face made her wish for a dark moon. Then she wouldn’t have to see his disappointment. But then, the bomber wouldn’t have menaced them and she wouldn’t have been in this awkward spot.
‘How many months?’ At last, he spoke.
‘About four. I missed seeing Seamus by two days or we’d have tried to get married before he shipped out.’
‘I see. Does anyone at Currajong know? Your—replacement?’
‘I’ve told no one. You were to be the first. You are the first.’
‘Thank you for that.’ His gaze caught and held hers.
‘Are you going to send me away now? It’s not impacting on my work, and I feel well. Surprisingly well.’
Doc rubbed the back of his neck then shoved both hands in his pockets. ‘I should.’ He turned away, walked a few steps and looked over the stretch of open country. She had no idea what he was thinking, although—when had she ever known for sure?
He turned back but didn’t approach. ‘Do you want to leave the unit now?’
‘I don’t want to leave until I have to.’
He nodded and fell silent. He hadn’t told her to go. Maybe he wouldn’t put her on the first train south. Maybe he’d let her stay on for a while.
Praying she’d interpreted that silence correctly, she took a step towards him. ‘Besides, you’re sending Sister Smith back to Brisbane. We’ll be short-staffed until a replacement arrives for her. While I can do my job properly, I want to stay here, and I was thinking—’ What would Doc think of her suggestion? New mothers were supposed to be with their babies. They were supposed to want to stay with their babies, but Meg couldn’t imagine experiencing such a feeling. Not when there was so much work to do here. Not when she was needed in an active role in the war effort.
‘If I can find someone to care for my baby, I’d like to come back after the birth.’
Doc’s nod was non-committal, but before he replied, another jeep pulled up beside them.
Dr Newton called out, ‘Anyone hurt? We were still at the meeting site when that bomb hit and— Geoff, Meg, I didn’t see it was you.’
Doc approached the jeep. ‘We pulled off and took shelter when that bugger flew straight over and dropped his load. No damage done.’
‘The all clear sounded. Sure you’re both okay?’ Don Newton peered in Margaret’s direction.
Moving out of the shadow of the trees, an idle thought about hiding in moon-shadows played in her mind. ‘I’m fine although I might have a bruise or two from flinging myself onto the ground. It looks like our chaps hit the Jap’s plane.’
‘Here’s hoping. Well, if you’re both okay . . .’ Dr Newton put the jeep in gear and gave them a casual wave. ‘I expect we’ll read all about it in the Townsville Bulletin in a few days. Geoff, don’t forget to send me that article on vascular developments. Night.’ He pulled away leaving them to dust themselves off and clamber back into their jeep.
With a pang of regret for their interrupted discussion, Meg waited for Doc to resume the conversation, but he drove home in silence, only speaking to wish her a good night before leaving her to her thoughts. She strolled along the driveway, seeing activity in the veranda ward as nurses settled patients into their beds after the raid. Sneaking into her hut so as not to disturb the others if they had gone to bed proved useless. She eased the door open to find three pairs of eyes turn to her.
‘You’re awake still?’
‘Why would you think we’d be asleep after another bombing raid?’ Gerry asked. ‘Eva treated us to another attack of hysteria. That girl would be useless anywhere near a front line.’
If Meg had given the nurse another thought, she’d have expected nothing less. She shrugged and, seeing they were keen to talk, told them about seeing the enemy plane and taking cover and the bomb.
‘Ah, that explains the dirt on your skirt and grass in your hair.’
‘What?’ Meg jumped up and looked at her reflection, plucking a grass stem from her hair and brushing off her skirt. ‘Oh dear. I hoped not to have to fit in doing more laundry for a few days, but this dirt isn’t going to come out.’
‘So . . . did you only take cover because of the plane, or did Doc—you know?’ Seated on the end of her bunk, Gerry nudged Meg and gave her an exaggerated wink.
‘Gerry! Honestly, you know—’
‘You’re an engaged person, I know. You tell us that so often I sometimes wonder if you feel you have to remind yourself. Come on, Maggie, I’m only kidding. But it could have been fun.’
Desperate to divert Gerry from her comments, Meg shook her head. ‘I’m beginning to wonder about these raids that are hardly raids. Either the Japs have lousy aim, or their plan isn’t to bomb the heck out of us, but to tire us into making mistakes. I know the pilot dropped one bomb this time. It landed not far from us.’ Her near miss elicited shocked exclamations. Jokes about Doc and a good time vanished.
‘Oh my God, Maggie, are you okay?’ Gerry’s grip on her arm was hard and fierce, and Meg felt real fear roll off her friend.
‘I stared at his plane and prayed he didn’t drop another on top of us. It was so close the ground quaked—or it might have been me shaking in my boots.’
Mary made a sound of disgust. ‘You were in the thick of it with an actual bomb and meanwhile our Eva carried on like a pork chop—again. Do you think she should stay here? What if the bombing gets more accurate and we have to deal with casualties? She’d be squawking and useless.’
Soon they would have to tell Eva that she was being sent south. Meg doubted any of the staff would see her departure as a negative, especially after tonight’s repeat performance. ‘So far, the bombs have landed either in the sea or in the mountains outside of town. The pilots had to have seen the town lying open and clear under the moonlight, so—’
Pam leaned forward, nodding. ‘Your idea makes a weird kind of sense you know. Three out of four nights with disturbed sleep hasn’t done me any favours, I can tell you.’
‘Did you offer everyone tea again?’
Gerry jumped in. ‘Hot cocoa, but most people just wanted to go to bed. Do you want—’
‘No thanks. I’m going to crawl into bed and beg Morpheus to clobber me. Night, girls.’ Kicking off her shoes, Meg turned off the light then made short work of removing her uniform and dropping it at the end of the bunk. Why bother folding it when she’d have to work hard to remove dirt and grass stains tomorrow?
A rustling of bedclothes and Mary’s soft sniffs, always a prelude to her falling asleep, sent Meg hurrying into her bed. Hoping for sleep, she burrowed under her blankets and curled up on her side. Tomorrow, Doc might decide to send her home and Meg, for all the fright of tonight, didn’t want to leave. Not yet.