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Meg slipped the voluminous apron over her head and loosely tied the waist ties behind her back. Despite Gerry’s whispered reassurances that no one could yet tell she was pregnant, she felt fat and awkward and her feet seemed too big for her shoes. What she was going to do when the temperature climbed and her feet really swelled up, heaven knew.
‘It’s a lovely day outside, Private. Wouldn’t you like to get up and enjoy some sunshine?’ She shook the thermometer, slipped it under Wharton’s tongue before he could answer then, picking up his wrist, checked his pulse. He had been slow to recover from a traumatic head wound, and his memory was still erratic, but the nineteen-year-old’s smile today suggested he was a little better.
She checked the temperature and set the thermometer in its jar to sterilise. ‘How are you feeling, Private Wharton? Any pain?’
‘Only when you leave my side, Sister.’
‘Hmm, sounds like you’re flirting with me. You must be feeling better.’ She recorded Wharton’s temperature and pulse, noting the improvements. Doc would be around soon to do his morning rounds and—
‘Sister Dorset, do you have a moment?’ She checked her watch. Doc was always on time, which made his early appearance significant.
‘I’ll be with you in one moment, Doctor.’
She turned back to her patient, conscious of Doc’s eyes on her. They both knew her departure was rapidly approaching, but Doc had treated her no differently, except for this increased surveillance. He’d been watching her like a hawk since the night he learned she was pregnant. Or maybe it just seemed that way.
She tidied the sheets, setting them straight, and, with a smile for her patient, she headed towards Doc who jerked his head towards her office. Once inside, Doc closed the door.
‘Am I correct that you’re now about five months along? How are you feeling, Margaret?’
‘And good morning to you, Doctor. I’m well, though a little tired at the end of the day. I don’t believe my work has been affected—’ God, she’d never forgive herself if her desire to work for as long as she could led to an error that affected a patient. ‘Have I done something wrong? Missed something?’
Doc shook his head and Meg sank onto her chair. Relief felt like— Her mind winged to her day at the beach. Cool water over heated skin.
‘Your work continues to be exemplary, but I’m sure you know that, Margaret. I’m also certain if you thought otherwise, you’d have been knocking on my office door requesting a leave of absence. No, I wanted to let you know, I’ve received word that 3 MRS is taking over this site and I was wondering what your plans are?’
Thinking about the likely changes, Meg nodded. ‘This would be the time for me to take leave.’ The time had arrived, not like a clock counting down to New Year, but sneaking up on her like a hunter until it was too late to dodge. Too late to change course.
‘Come to dinner with me tonight, in town. We should mark the occasion with something more than mess food.’
‘That’s kind of you, Doctor, but—’
‘No buts, Margaret. I’ll pick you up at eighteen hundred.’
‘How about I meet you out front of Currajong?’
His eyebrow rose, a faint disappointment quickly masked. ‘As you wish.’
For the rest of the day, Meg moved through the motions, aware that she was ticking a list of “lasts”. Regardless of whether she left tomorrow or the next day, she was counting down. Determined to leave her work complete, she finalised notes on the personnel files, checked the latest supplies lists, and began her letter to Doc requesting leave to attend to ‘medical issues’. That didn’t feel right, and she left the letter in her own file, to be completed after her discussion with Doc.
Geoffrey. Why can’t I think of him by name?
Self-preservation, answered her subconscious. Geoffrey was a whole other level of friendship, which, as an engaged woman, she couldn’t contemplate. Although— Was it possible to have feelings for two men at the same time?
Rubbing her forehead, she looked at the time. In twenty minutes, she was meeting Doc and if she didn’t get a wriggle on, she’d be late. She put away the files she’d worked on and left two to be completed sitting on her desk. Of all the nurses, she still couldn’t separate Gerry and Catherine as possible successors. Early on, Gerry had seemed flighty, but her friend had a core of goodness and strength and paid attention to others’ needs. Catherine was the more organised of the two, but Meg wasn’t certain she saw beneath the professional veneer as well as Gerry. If only they could both do the job.
Setting her chair under the desk, Meg switched off the desk lamp and closed the door.
***
Doc parked the jeep across the road from the quaintly neo-Byzantine Queen’s Hotel on The Strand and strode to Meg’s side, offering her his arm to alight.
‘What a beautiful building, but I hope they don’t leave the lights glowing like that after dark.’
‘I shouldn’t think they do. Since the raids last month, regulations have been tightened.’ He led her inside and they were taken to a table with an outlook over The Strand. Meg set her handbag at her feet and glanced through the window. The sun had set as they left Currajong and Magnetic Island was melting into the darkness. Soon, the curtains would be drawn and the view, lost.
‘I thought it would be easier to talk away from the hospital.’ Doc raised a glass of whisky and tapped it against Meg’s water glass. ‘I hear the roast is good, and the management still seems to have no problem sourcing vegetables, despite the shortages mentioned in news articles.’
Plenty of Allied personnel filled the restaurant, but Meg saw no locals at the tables. ‘I wonder if that’s because their customers are mostly army? I’ve noticed more and more private gardens around the hospital have pulled out their flower beds and planted veggies.’
Doc looked around. ‘Possibly. I imagine the army claims a lot of the supplies before they ever reach the locals. Townsville has become a defence forces town.’
‘It must be tough for those not in the services. Even between the allied groups there are problems over perceived rights.’ Meg thought about the ugly scene she and Gerry had witnessed after going to see a movie in town. Walking to a local café for coffee after they came out, the sounds of men shouting had drawn them a little way along the street. In front of a building boasting a shaded red light, half a dozen Aussie and Yankee soldiers were throwing punches, egged on by their mates. Gerry had grabbed her arm and hustled her back to the café. ‘Maybe that explains the fights breaking out around the harbour. And the increasing numbers in the VD ward.’
Doc raised his eyebrows but made no comment. ‘How’s your fiancé?’
Like Gerry, Doc probably thought the harbour was the last place two nurses should be. Thankful to have avoided a lecture, she went with the change of subject. ‘He said he was fine in his last letter.’ But when had that been? Longer ago than Meg could remember. She sipped her water and frowned. ‘It’s been a while.’
‘Don’t worry too much, Margaret. Mail gets held up all the time, but—he knows about your baby, doesn’t he? You told him?’
‘Yes, and I had a letter from him after that although—’ Thinking about the timing of Seamus’s last letter, the loving words he’d written had been no different from his early letters, and she didn’t think the censors would have blacked out references to her baby. ‘I wondered if that letter arrived after he sent his.’
‘He didn’t mention your baby?’
She shook her head slowly. ‘I haven’t had another letter since then.’ Oh dear God, was that it? Seamus had changed his mind about loving her? Marrying her? Chills ran through her body, freezing her heart, her mind. She didn’t even feel nauseous because every part of her had numbed. Had word of her baby frightened him away?
‘Margaret—’ Doc covered her hand where it lay beside her water glass. ‘Your skin is so cold. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Here, drink this.’
She took the glass he held up and drank—and coughed. ‘That’s whisky.’ More coughing, then she grabbed her water and drank. ‘I shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.’
‘Don Newton’s advice I presume. It was only a sip. At least now you have some colour back in your cheeks. You thought the worst, didn’t you, but you would have heard if anything had happened to him. That’s the one sort of mail that always come through.’
Meg stared at Doc. Comprehension was slow in coming, but when it did, fresh waves of denial flowed. Her hand slipped to her belly, protecting her unborn child from the worst. ‘I thought perhaps he’d changed his mind, but he could have been wounded. Why didn’t I think of that first?’
Knowing Seamus for such a short time, falling in love with him so hard and fast that she’d tossed aside her beliefs and made love before she wore his wedding ring—these things had been slowly eating away at her certainty of his love. Now Doc had given her a different set of concerns. She met Doc’s worried eyes.
His gaze was intense. ‘Margaret, I—’ for only the second time since she’d come to know him, Doc was lost for words. He looked down at the table and, picking up his whisky, drank. Clearing his throat, he reached again for her hand and looked into her eyes.
The strangest feeling of déjà vu came over Meg and then—
‘Margaret, should either of those eventualities come to pass, God forbid, I would be honoured if you would become my wife. I have feelings for you, perhaps not love, not yet, but I have the greatest respect for you and would go into our marriage knowing about your baby.’
How did one respond to an offer of marriage when one was already engaged, but to a fiancé from whom one hadn’t heard since sharing news of the child they had created?
‘Please don’t feel you have to answer me. I’m not asking you to marry me tonight, but I want you to know I would like you to, if you find yourself—available.’
Holding his gaze had never felt so difficult, or so necessary. ‘Thank you, Geoffrey. You are a good and kind man—’
‘I sense a but coming.’
She shook her head. ‘No but. To be honest, I can’t think beyond the fact I haven’t heard from Seamus in some time. Of course, there are plenty of reasons why that may be so.’
He bowed his head for a moment then nodded. ‘A proposal that isn’t a proposal isn’t what a woman wants to hear. I simply wish you to know I am here, if your situation changes. We deal very well together. Should it come to pass that we were to marry and you wished to continue working, I would support your choice.’
‘Then should my situation change, please know I won’t hold you to tonight’s offer, but I would be happy to hear it again—if you still feel the same.’
‘You can count on it.’ Doc’s smile rose on one side, wry and aware that he could expect no more than this.
‘Two roast beefs, sir. More drinks?’
The appearance of the waitress with their dinner put an end to their strange discussion, but Doc’s offer gave Meg much to think about. Her appetite had returned, but she cut her meal into small pieces and took her time, chatting about less consequential matters. Like her imminent departure and the best reasons to give to HQ.
##
Meg woke to an insistent pain in her lower abdomen. She caught her breath and pressed her lips together, stifling the groan that welled within her. Swinging her feet out of bed and into her shoes, she groped for her torch, grabbed her dressing gown from the foot of her bed and staggered to the door.
‘Maggie, are you okay?’ Gerry’s whisper cut through the fog of pain.
‘Hurts.’ Meg bent over and clutched her stomach.
Gerry jumped out of bed and set her arms around Meg’s shoulders. ‘Come outside.’ Gerry grabbed her dressing gown and led Meg from the hut, down to the shaded single light in the mess. Sitting Meg on a bench, her friend hunkered down in front of her and gripped her hands. ‘Now talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. Is the pain sharp or niggling?’
‘Heavy, like pressure building. Oh God, am I losing my baby?’
Gerry frowned, stood and reached towards Meg’s stomach, stopping short as she made eye contact. ‘May I?’
Meg nodded and Gerry helped her lie back on the bench then felt her stomach. Stretched out, the pain seemed to settle in one area, easing a little with Gerry’s gentle probing.
‘Did you eat a big meal tonight?’
‘Bigger than normal, yes. It was the first time I’ve actually felt like eating since early on.’
‘And you haven’t had any bleeding?’ Gerry’s fingers settled around her wrist, checking her pulse.
At Meg’s shake of her head Gerry sat beside her. ‘Gas. Most likely the unfamiliar big meal has put pressure on the surrounding organs, including your stomach. It feels a bit bloated. Big meals can give you constipation and gas, especially during the middle and late stages of your pregnancy. I saw women come in with similar symptoms often enough during my time on the maternity ward. The solution is easy. Instead of three regular meals, try eating smaller and more frequent meals. And drink plenty of water.’
‘You’re sure my baby’s fine?’ But the question was moot. Gerry’s explanation made sense now Meg had stopped panicking and listened to her body.
‘I’m as sure as I can be. I’ll get you some water. Wait there.’
Meg released a long shuddery breath and closed her eyes. Hands splayed over her baby bump, she wondered about the other changes in her body. As a nurse she’d thought she knew a lot about most areas of medicine, but her own pregnancy had revealed gaps in her training. What else didn’t she know about having a baby? What else should she have known that, if she were home—and married—her mother might have shared with her?
Gerry was back quickly with water. ‘I don’t want to assume here but you said your training was mostly in theatre and general ward work before that. Anything I can help with, in your pregnancy I mean, just ask.’
Meg sat up and accepted the mug. ‘That’s part of my problem; I don’t know what I don’t know. Maybe when I’m in Brisbane I should find some pamphlets on what to do and how to prepare for my baby’s birth.’ She drank half the contents, surprised at how thirsty she was. ‘I’ve been feeling pretty good since the morning sickness disappeared. This—gas—it threw me. I wish I’d done a stint in maternity like you so I knew more.’
‘You’ve done really well so far. But Maggie, it might be time to consider taking leave. Have you seen your ankles lately?’
‘Ugh. My ankles have let me know they’re not happy with me, but yes, I will be leaving soon. I spoke with Doc tonight about my departure.’
‘Good.’ Gerry slid her a sideways look. Nonchalant, it wasn’t, and given what Gerry thought she knew about Doc, Meg knew what was coming.
‘How did Doc take it?’
‘He asked if I’d heard from Seamus and I reacted badly. It’s been way too long since I had a letter. I hadn’t realised just how long. We’ve been so busy and time slips by faster than the blink of an eye and—’
‘I know we’re busy. Get back to Doc. How did he take it when you told him you were expecting?’
Meg sucked in a deep breath. ‘Please don’t be cross. He figured it out the night of the Oonoonba bombing when we deserted the jeep and flung ourselves to the ground. I slipped and he grabbed me and—well, I might not be very big yet but he’s a doctor.’
Gerry’s eyes widened and she gave a long drawn-out hmmm that clearly meant I told you so. ‘So, Doc said nothing and let you keep working. Here. With him.’
‘He’s been keeping an eye on me since then.’
‘Since I first met you, you mean. I swear if you weren’t engaged, Doc would have asked you out.’
‘He kind of did last night.’
‘Oh. My. Goodness.’
‘That sounds really odd. You probably think I’ve encouraged him. I haven’t, not at all. But we were talking about me leaving and why Seamus might not have replied to my letter about the baby. I thought Seamus may have realised he didn’t love me and didn’t want to get married. Doc suggested he may not be able to write if he was wounded.’
‘That makes sense. You would have heard if he was KIA.’
‘In a selfish way, I hope a wound is the reason why I haven’t heard from him.’
‘I’ll wound him myself if he’s changed his mind.’ Gerry squeezed her hand. ‘You’re in love with him though, so why would you think he doesn’t want to marry you?’
‘Everything happened so quickly between Seamus and me and I guess I need reassurance that we aren’t just another side story of the war.’
Gerry nudged Meg. ‘If you weren’t so gassy and pregnant, I’d shake you for thinking that. Seriously, Maggie, I doubt you would make such a mistake about Seamus. You’re practical and sensible and—’
‘And in love.’
‘That too.’
‘Don’t they say love is blind? What if I—misunderstood Seamus’s attentions and let myself get caught up in the whole wartime romance thing. Picnicking under a tropical moon, the pressure of knowing one or both of us could be posted elsewhere in the blink of an eye?’ Second-guessing why Seamus hadn’t written had done awful things to her self-confidence. ‘How well do I really know my fiancé?’
‘How well do any of us know each other? You liked what you saw of him enough to accept his proposal.’
The speed of her courtship, if those weeks in Adelaide River could be so called, stunned Meg. ‘Everything is different during a war. Emotions are more intense. Time is condensed.’
She frowned. ‘Actually, I’m not sure condensed is the right word. Time saunters and strolls and then suddenly it gallops like a horse in the Melbourne Cup. It doesn’t run smoothly like it used to. Nothing is like it was.’
‘No, it isn’t, and I don’t think it will ever be the same again.’
They sat quiet and companionable while Meg’s thoughts chased each other through her mind without settling on an answer.
‘Do you doubt Seamus is true?’
Gerry’s question could have popped out of Meg’s brain. She set one foot on the bench, wrapped her arms around her leg and rested her chin on her knee. ‘Of course, I don’t want to think that. But—it is possible. There’s another thing. What if he picked up on something in my letters?’
‘Something as in—what?’ Gerry’s eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing Meg’s turmoil.
Resting her cheek on her knee Meg wondered about the power of night. Caught in this dim patch of light enveloped by darkness was like she imagined a Catholic confessional to be, with Gerry as the priest. Or maybe it was less Catholic and her friend was an ancient high priestess. Either way, spilling her guts released some of her fears. ‘I like Doc. I respect his work, but maybe I’ve written too much about him when I only meant to describe what’s happened in the hospital. What if Seamus thinks I’ve fallen for a man who’s with me every day?’
‘Hmm. What if you’re only just realising that in fact you have fallen for Doc like I’m sure he’s fallen for you? Would that be such a terrible thing?’
‘Yes, when I’m carrying another man’s child.’
‘Doc knows about the baby, and yet he still invited you out. That has to tell you something.’
Meg met Gerry’s gaze and drew a deep breath. ‘Doc proposed.’
‘What—’ Gerry was thunderstruck, wordless in a very un-Gerry-like way. Because the news had changed how she saw Meg?
‘His proposal was in the sense of he’d like to marry me, but only if the worst had happened. Something like that. Well?’
Gerry could have been the poster for stunned mullet, she was so quiet.
‘Talk to me. Tell me I haven’t done anything wrong.’
Shaking her head, Gerry blinked. ‘I’ve always said Doc is a decent man, but that is some proposal. You’re engaged to another man and having his baby and Doc was still able to propose and make it seem—special.’
‘You don’t think I’m to blame?’
‘Not at all, sweet Maggie. You’ve behaved like a paragon. So has Doc, but wow! —that is some attraction he has for you.’
‘It should feel all kinds of wrong, but it doesn’t. It just feels—nice.’
‘He loves you. I told you he’d fallen for you.’
‘Actually, he said he has feelings for me—maybe not love yet, but he respects me and, what’s really important to me, he would be fine with me continuing to work if we were to marry. It came as a shock.’
‘What answer did you give him?’
‘I thanked him and said I couldn’t think beyond waiting to hear from Seamus. He was—accepting of that. Gerry, can I ask you something?’
‘About the baby? Ask away.’
‘No, about men. I’ve done nothing to lead Doc on. I’ve been faithful to Seamus and I still intend to marry him, but— Do you think it’s possible to be in love with two men at the same time?’
Gerry leaned back against the table and tipped her head in thought. ‘I think it’s possible. Who’s to say we can only love one person at a time?’ She pinned Meg with a look that bored right through to her heart. ‘Are you saying you might have feelings for Doc too?’
‘Maybe? Or maybe I’m feeling mellow because he’s a good and kind man who, for whatever reason, seems to care about me.’ She set her foot down and stood, tugging the belt of her dressing gown tighter. ‘I’m sorry I woke you before, but thanks for the midnight medical consultation, and Gerry—thanks for being the best friend a woman could ask for. I’m going to miss you.’
Gerry slipped her arm through Meg’s and together they left the mess tent. ‘I’ll miss you too but leaving is the best thing for both you and your baby. By the way, I’ve had a letter from my friend, the nun. Sister Rosemary. She invited you to meet her at Magdalen House when you get to Brisbane and she’ll let you know if she’s found a home for your baby.’
Meg gripped Gerry’s hand where it rested on her arm. ‘How can I thank you for all your help?’
‘Gerry is a great name for a girl or a boy.’ She winked and patted Meg’s hand, making a hand sandwich. ‘Seriously, I have a widowed aunt who would love to fuss over you. She lives on Brunswick Street near New Farm Park.’
‘I’ll look her up when I get there.’