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‘Shakespeare wrote that parting is such sweet sorrow, and now I know what he meant.’ Tears prickled in Meg’s eyes as she kissed each tiny bare baby foot. Jennifer’s little fingers clung to one of hers and big blue eyes gazed up at her in wide-eyed wonder and joy. Her rosebud mouth had begun to form the sweetest smile, and, at almost three months of age, Jennifer was the prettiest child Meg had ever seen. ‘Why am I even thinking of leaving you, my darling?’
Vera was standing at a little distance, giving Meg space to say goodbye but ready to take Jennifer and care for her like her own child. ‘I can’t imagine how hard this is, but you’d better get a hustle on or you’ll miss your train.’
Meg drew in a deep breath and unclasped the St Christopher medal from her neck. Her engagement gift from Seamus belonged to their daughter. She dangled the medallion in front of Jennifer. Little arms pumped and flung forward, uncoordinated and joyful as she knocked the medal and set it swinging.
‘This was your daddy’s promise we’d have a life together, my darling. He was so pleased to know about you. I only wish you could have known him, but when you’re older, I’ll tell you stories about him.’ She set the chain in Jennifer’s hand and picked up her baby.
Kissing her forehead, Meg inhaled her sweet baby’s scent, trying to memorise the feel of her daughter in her arms against the long, lonely nights that lay ahead. ‘I love you so much, but I have to go north and care for the soldiers who have fought like your daddy. I have to do this for him, and maybe for me, but I’ll be back as soon as I can, my darling girl. Be good for your Aunt Vera.’ With a final kiss she handed Jennifer to Vera and squeezed her friend’s shoulder because she had no more words.
‘I’ll write often with news of how she’s doing. Take care, Margaret, as I will take care of Jennifer, and give my love to that niece of mine. You have the package for her?’
Meg sniffed, nodded, then picked up her suitcase and walked down the brick path to the front gate. Opening it and stepping through, she forced herself to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, leaving her daughter in a step-by-step withdrawal that left the biggest part of her heart here by the river in Brisbane.
The day was bright, her uniform was hot, and her sadness weighed heavily and yet, there was something energising about the future. Leaving Jennifer was impossibly hard but going back to work felt right. It felt like the only choice she could make. And even if the Brisbane Line that the Government Minister, Mr Ward had claimed existed, her daughter would be safe with Vera.
##
The train journey to Townsville passed in a blur. Arms aching to hold her daughter, Meg’s mind slowly drew her onward to the work that lay ahead. In the time she’d been gone, her unit at Currajong had undergone changes—of name, of command, of personnel, including Doc who had been transferred. All leave had been cancelled following Allied progress in the Pacific arena, and he hadn’t been able to get down to Brisbane to visit before he’d left to oversee the setting up of new forward stations.
But he had written each week, kind letters inquiring about Jennifer and how they were managing in Brisbane, and snippets of news about the hospital that somehow evaded the censor’s black pen. He said no more about his offer, and for that, Meg was grateful.
Meg laced her fingers in her lap. Her ability to focus on tasks had been affected by lack of sleep in the first couple of months after Jennifer’s birth. In one sense, she was also grateful. Being tired had dulled her sense of loss, but even as she battled her grief for Seamus and being apart from Jennifer, her motivation to care for other soldiers now Seamus was gone, gave her the will to go on. A couple of good nights’ sleep would see her right. God, she hoped they would.
The train pulled into the Townsville station with a hiss of steam and squealing of brakes. Burning-coal smells combined with the heat rising off the platform as Meg stepped down and turned to lift her suitcase. Missing Jennifer as she did, still this return felt like some sort of coming home.
A corporal, his arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, leaned against a jeep outside the station. As she approached, his gaze flicked over her before he stood straight and offered a less than snappy salute. ‘Lt Dorset?’
She returned his salute. ‘Yes. Are we going straight to Currajong?’
‘Yes, Lieutenant. Corporal Williams, at your service.’
‘Are you attached to the hospital?’ she asked when he’d stowed her suitcase behind her seat.
‘No, Lieutenant. I usually drive an ambulance, but today’s been quiet, so they sent me to collect you. I drew the lucky straw.’
‘What lucky straw?’ Meg asked, although she could make an educated guess.
‘All the blokes want to pick up the new nurses when they arrive—’ His gaze slid sideways, and he grinned.
‘Then you lucked out, Corporal. I’m returning to duty. I was the Sister-in-charge at Currajong.’
Williams’s grin slipped and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘Ah, right. Then – welcome back?’ He seemed disappointed and took a corner faster than she imagined an ambulance driver should.
Meg grabbed the top of the windscreen and pressed her lips together. Blinking against the bright, late-summer sunlight, Meg watched houses and shops slide past. Nothing had changed since she left, but everything in her life was different. She was different. How would she fit back into the familiar world of Currajong? Would it be familiar in its new incarnation, without Geoffrey?
The jeep slowed then stopped in front of the hospital, and Meg climbed out. ‘Thanks, Williams.’ She was stiff and her neck ached from trying to sleep sitting up for two nights. Praying whoever was in charge didn’t expect her to start a shift without time to recover, she straightened her shoulders and climbed the front stairs and headed towards the Medical Officer’s office. A piece of cardboard tacked to the door read: Lt. Col. Smythe.
She set her suitcase at her feet, twitched her jacket into a perfect line, and knocked.
‘Come in.’ The voice sounded older than Geoffrey’s, and weary.
She opened the door, stepped into the office and saluted. ‘Lt Dorset reporting for duty, sir.’
‘At ease, Lieutenant.’ Despite the hot summer day, the MO wore an army-issue tie, and his sleeves were buttoned at the wrist. When he stood, the crease in his trousers was visible, if a little flattened by the humidity. Geoffrey had dressed more casually when he was operating, but Lt. Col. Smythe appeared to be regular army, with a no-nonsense, maintain discipline, keep up appearance look. Greying temples and a surfeit of wrinkles made Meg revise her early estimate of his age to nearing retirement.
‘You were sister-in-charge until your departure. Your file says you’ve been on medical leave.’ Her superior looked up at her from under bushy, grey-caterpillar eyebrows and his gaze narrowed. ‘Hmph. Are you fit for duty, Lieutenant?’
‘Yes, sir. Fit and ready to begin.’
‘Good. Nothing like diving straight back in. Report to Sister Platt for your assignment. Dismissed.’
Meg saluted, turned smartly on her heel and closed the door behind her, grateful Gerry was still in charge.
Meg stepped into the ward. Gerry was seated at the desk beside the bed they used for patients needing constant monitoring. It was currently empty, but the moment Gerry looked up and saw Meg, she stood. ‘Follow me, Sister.’ Gerry led her through the back door. At her old hut, she dropped off her suitcase then continued down to the mess where Gerry asked for, and was given, two cups of coffee. Only when they were seated in a back corner did she fling her arms around Meg’s neck. ‘It is so good to have you back here, Meggins, my girl. So good.’
They rocked in each other’s arms until Meg eased out of Gerry’s hold, sniffing. Pulling a hanky from her pocket, she dabbed her eyes and nose. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t cry when I saw you.’
‘Tosh. What’s a few tears between friends? How’s my amazing niece and my incredibly wonderful auntie?’
Meg blew her nose and stuffed the hanky back in her pocket. ‘Loving her role as Jennifer’s mother-aunt, and Jennifer adores her.’ She took a sip of coffee and set the cup down. ‘I have a package for you from Vera, and the latest photos of her and Jennifer. Maybe after dinner we can—’
‘Perfect. Now tell me, how are you going?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘You look good, Meg. Better than you should after that train trip.’
‘Sleep deprivation with a new baby made the trip a piece of cake.’ She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched. ‘Aside from a kink or two from sleeping sitting up.’
Gerry peered into her eyes, a small, vertical wrinkle furrowing between her eyebrows. Vera had mentioned how worried Gerry was about Meg in each letter since the news of Seamus’s death. ‘Physical ailments aside, you haven’t answered me. How are you doing?’
Meg sighed. ‘It’s still early days, but I will get through it. Working will help. Just knowing that what I’m doing might stop another woman, another family, from feeling like I do—that’s a big thing for me.’ She sipped her coffee and set the cup back on the table. ‘Vera told me I have a choice. I can fall apart and live half a life until I die, or I can pick myself up and live a full life, with Jennifer. I choose a full life, and this is what I need to do to stop up that hole in my heart. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving Seamus, but I don’t think he’d have wanted me to mourn him forever either.’
Gerry set a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. ‘Vera knows what it’s like. She’s a strong woman. So are you.’
‘I’ve come to love her like another mother. I hope you don’t mind sharing her?’
Gerry grinned. ‘The more, the merrier, especially with my best friend. And my newest niece.’ Gerry finished her coffee then stood. ‘I need to get back on the ward. You’re on roster tomorrow at zero six hundred, so relax, sleep if you can today, and I’ll see you at dinner. You’re bunking with me of course.’
‘Perfect, and thanks.’ They walked together to their hut where Gerry peeled off and headed to the hospital.
Meg opened the door and looked around. Gerry’s red dress still hung from a hook, adding a bright note to the otherwise drab colours. Hanging her jacket and skirt on a spare hook, she climbed onto the spare bunk above Gerry’s. With no baby bump to make the climb difficult, the top bunk was fine. She took a moment to look at the new perspective of her old home before sleep claimed her.
##
‘Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Up and at ’em.’
Meg’s eyelids opened sluggishly, and she found herself looking into an unfamiliar face beneath a nurse’s cap. Blinking to clear sleep-grit from her eyes, she sat up. ‘I’m up. Who are you?’
‘Claire Jones. You must be Meg Dorset. Gerry’s been talking about you all week since she found out you were coming back. Guess that means you don’t need the grand tour, hey?’
Meg scrambled down from her bunk. ‘No, but thanks. What’s the time?’ She slipped her arms into her shirt and stepped into her skirt.
‘Dinner. Gerry asked me to stop by on my way to the mess and see if you were awake. Do you want to eat?’
The word was enough to remind Meg she hadn’t bothered with lunch. ‘You bet. Give me one minute to tidy myself.’ Setting her suitcase on Gerry’s bunk, she rifled through for her hairbrush. ‘Have you been here long, Claire?’
‘A couple of months. One day I was at home recovering from a New Year’s Eve party and the next, I was on a train heading north with a headache throbbing in time with the wheels. Still, since I arrived, we’ve had a few dances with the Americans over at their reccy club. The food’s great and the music is good.’
‘Good to hear they’re still happening. There were a few incidents between the Aussies and the Yanks while I was up here last year. I wondered if they’d managed to settle their differences.’ She tossed the brush into the open suitcase and decided lipstick wasn’t required. ‘I’m ready.’
Claire opened the door and they walked together down the path. ‘Boys will be boys. There were a couple of dust-ups just after I got here, but since then, nothing. I heard a rumour that both sides locked up the ringleaders. That must have helped.’
The mess was half-full as they stepped inside, with a short line still waiting to collect their meal.
‘Meg!’ Pam, who had been in the hut with Gerry and Meg last year waved from a table on the far side of the mess. ‘Come and join us.’
Meg waved in acknowledgement. ‘As soon as I’ve got my tray.’
Claire raised an eyebrow. ‘So, Pammy has been here since you were here last time? That’s good. Anyone else you know?’
Meg scanned the staff already seated and nodded. ‘There are a handful of familiar faces.’
But not Doc. Funny how she thought of him by that name now she was back at the hospital. Doc had helped her find her feet and made her time at Currajong memorable. Without his support, she’d have been back in Brisbane much earlier, and probably wouldn’t have been able to return following Jennifer’s birth. She felt his absence keenly, and she owed him—big time.
Resolved to write and thank him as soon as she had free time, dinner passed happily as she caught up with staff who were still based at the hospital, and met new ones.
And when she woke the next morning, Meg was surprised that she’d slept through the night. No dreams, and no nightmares. Just a sense of being back where she belonged.
##
‘Letters for you, Sister.’ Corporal Davis, who was still working on the ward as an orderly, handed over two envelopes.
‘Thanks, Davis.’ Having been back at Currajong for almost two weeks, she’d been expecting to hear from Vera, but the second letter . . . She flipped both over and read the names of the senders: Vera, and Geoffrey. Tucking the letters into her pocket to read in a quiet moment, she handed him a file. ‘Prescott is being transferred to Brisbane. Can you make sure his gear is packed and he’s ready to go as soon as the doctor’s done his rounds?’
‘Sure can, Sister. And there’s someone waiting to see you in the office.’
‘Who is—’ But Davis was already off, delivering letters to patients down the ward and swapping friendly chat with them.
Meg frowned. She didn’t like surprises, although Davis would have warned her if the visitor had been important. Or difficult.
She checked on Private Miles in the close supervision bed. His breathing had stabilised, becoming regular over the last couple of hours, and his blood pressure was improving. Reassured she could leave him for a couple of minutes, she slipped along the corridor and opened the door to what had once been her, now Gerry’s office.
Sitting in the visitor’s chair was Geoffrey.
He rose and turned as she stepped into the room and stopped, hand on the door handle.
‘Hello, Margaret.’
‘Geoffrey—how on earth—’
‘Ah, you weren’t expecting me. It seems I beat my letter here.’
Meg’s hand went to her pocket and pulled out the two envelopes. ‘I’m guessing this is it? The mail just arrived. How are you?’ She’d missed his calm presence when she arrived back at the hospital, and the smile he reserved for her, the one that lit his face from within. But now he was here, her feelings zipped all over the place. Folding her hands over her stomach, she looked at him. A few more crinkles fanned from his eyes, but it had only been—what – five or six months since their last dinner together?
‘It’s lovely to see you, of course. I just wasn’t expecting . . . Would you like a cup of tea? But no, I can’t leave Private Miles for more than a few minutes.’
‘Margaret, don’t worry about tea. I knew you’d be busy, but I wanted to call in and see how you are, and invite you out to dinner, if you aren’t on duty tonight. It looks like you’re on day duty so I’m in luck.’
‘Yes, I—’ Meg closed her mouth. Seeing him now, for the first time since the news of Seamus’s death, threw her. His offer to wed her should the worst happen, God forbid, hung in the air between them. She had no idea how she felt about him, having thought the occasion would never arise. What should she say?
‘It’s fine. I’m here as your friend. I’m here to attend a conference, and I have a couple of days off. Catching up with you seemed like the nicest way of spending some of that time. So—would you like to have dinner with me?’
No pressure. We’re friends. That’s safe.
She sucked in a deep breath. I can do this.
‘I’d enjoy that, thank you. What time?’
‘I’ll call for you at six. Will that be enough time to get ready after your shift ends?’ His gaze was steady and seemed to her anxious mind nothing other than friendly.
The tightness in her chest eased, and she smiled. ‘Six is good. I’m owed a night off. Thank you for the invitation.’
##
Gerry signed off on Meg’s leave pass with a huge smile on her face. ‘Doc’s first leave in ages and he’s come to see you. Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my dress?’
‘Don’t stress me out like that, Gerry. It’s just good friends catching up. Geoff—Doc didn’t make it down to Brisbane before his transfer; that’s all this is.’
‘I know, but hey, don’t rush home.’
Meg took the pass from Gerry and frowned. ‘You’ve extended the time to midnight, why?’
‘I want you to have a wonderful night, that’s why. Don’t overthink everything. You haven’t asked for any leave since you got here. You deserve tonight. Just enjoy the evening.’
Now, Meg stood on the footpath and adjusted her hat for the umpteenth time as she waited for Geoffrey. Despite Gerry’s excitement, Meg’s emotions were nowhere near excited. They were all over the shop. She wanted to spend time with Geoffrey. She didn’t want to be unfaithful to Seamus. She longed to simply chat with Doc and regain the simple relationship they had shared last year, but she feared veering towards the personal.
‘Argh!’ As she bit off a frustrated sigh, Vera’s sage advice drifted through her mind. You can choose, Meg . . . Choose . . .
Was tonight such a choice? Would she have to choose between being happy or stepping away from what Geoffrey offered?
A jeep approached, slowed, stopped, and a moment later, Geoffrey came around to her side of the vehicle. ‘Good evening, Margaret. It’s wonderful to see you waiting there.’ He opened the door and held out his hand.
‘Geoffrey.’ She took his hand—it was warm, smooth-skinned, and strong. A hand she trusted in the operating theatre to be steady and to save lives. A hand extended to her in friendship—and something more?
Wait and see what the evening brings. Gerry had nagged her and then sat her done and styled her hair before adding a touch of colour to her cheeks. Meg swallowed against her uncertainty and confusion. Gerry’s advice was sensible.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I managed to get a table at the Queen’s Hotel. I hope that’s okay. There isn’t a lot of choice if you want a decent meal these days.’ He started the engine, but they sat unmoving as he looked at her.
‘The Queen’s will be lovely, thank you.’
‘I’m glad you accepted my invitation, Margaret. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would.’ Then he engaged first gear and they rolled down the street.
The breeze from their passage cooled Meg’s cheeks. If her welcome this morning had been lacking warmth, what did it say about her? And yet, Geoffrey had persevered and invited her anyway.
Having booked at the last minute, their table at the hotel was in the rear of the dining room. Geoffrey held her chair as she sat then took his own seat. ‘No view of the sea, I’m afraid, but we can stroll along the beach later if you like and take in some sea air. Or not. It’s up to you, Margaret.’
‘That sounds like a fine idea.’ Reminding herself how considerate Geoffrey had been helped settle the jitters in her stomach, and when the waitress took their drink orders, Meg dared to order an Old-fashioned.
‘Should I take notice that’s your preference for the future?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve never had one before.’
‘What do you like? Champagne?’
‘On occasion. I’m not much of a drinker.’
‘So—does your taking a step towards a new drink mean you’re open to change in other areas? I’m just curious, mind you.’
Meg folded her hands on the table and met his gaze. ‘I’m still finding my way forward for now, Geoffrey.’
He nodded. ‘I understand, and frankly, I expected nothing less from you. I know you’re grieving, and you’re loyal and true to the memory of your fiancé, but I hope that time will help you to find a new path. I’m waiting on one of them, and hoping that, when you’re ready, you’ll choose to step onto mine.’
His words echoed Vera’s sentiments, and that simple fact lifted a weight from Meg’s shoulders. ‘Thank you for understanding. For now, I just need to work to get through each day. I need to make a difference in this wretched war, to feel I’m doing all I can to defeat it.’
Geoffrey nodded and covered her hand with his. ‘You do make a difference, Margaret—every day in the hospital. I admire your work ethic, your compassion, your skill.’
‘All the nurses are skilled, and Gerry’s doing a wonderful job.’
‘So I hear.’ He looked down to where his hand sat over hers and was quiet for several moments. When he looked up, his expression was unreadable. ‘What would you like for dinner? I believe the choice is steak, or beef pie.’
##
After a pot of tea following their meal, Meg took Geoffrey’s arm, and they crossed the road and strolled along the Strand. With little moonlight to show the way, they stayed on the edge as they followed the road north. Waves shushed as they ran up the unseen sand, and a steady onshore breeze tousled Meg’s hair, tugging several tendrils loose from her hairpins. The dark night surrounded them, stars filled the sky, and Geoffrey made no further reference to them. For the first time in what felt like forever, Meg relaxed.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Geoffrey. You’re good company, and so easy to talk to.’
‘It’s my pleasure, Margaret. I’m only sorry I’ve been unable to see you before now. My intention was to be there for you.’
‘You were, through your letters. They helped to show me I had wonderful friends who cared.’
His arm jerked a little and he sucked in an audible breath. ‘Sorry, I mis-stepped. The path is rockier than I thought.’
‘Maybe we should head back?’
‘If you wish, or we could sit under the tree up ahead. I’m sure I saw a bench when I drove along here today.’
‘Then let’s find it and sit. It’s nice to catch up, and you haven’t finished telling me about your work.’
‘As I said, there’s satisfaction in starting a hospital from scratch. I like building a team that works together like clockwork.’
‘I imagine that’s even more important if you’re operating under fire?’
‘Fortunately, we haven’t been that close to a front line yet, if you don’t count our side firing rockets over our heads. But I vet every staff member carefully for their ability to remain cool under pressure. After that nurse who fell apart last year—’
‘Eva.’ Meg shuddered. ‘Not that she could help it, but she’d be a nightmare if you had someone with her problems on staff.’
They found the bench and sat looking out over the ocean. Soothed by the sounds of water, a sense of peace filled Meg. ‘I can just make out the outline of the island. Thank goodness it’s not a bomber’s moon tonight.’
‘Have there been any more bombing raids since last July?’
‘Not that I know of, and I’m sure Gerry would have mentioned it if there had been.’ Or maybe she wouldn’t if anything had happened after the news of Seamus’s death. Both Gerry and Vera had been so protective of her.
‘That was quite a night.’
She liked hearing his voice and feeling the deep tone wrap around her, while remaining invisible to him. She’d had enough over dinner of being careful about what her expression might reveal, although she missed seeing the warmth in his gaze when they’d sat across the table from one another. Glancing in his direction, she caught a faint glint from his signet ring as his hand settled beside hers. ‘Yes, it was quite a night all right.’
‘In a way, I’m glad we shared that experience.’
‘You’re glad we were bombed?’ Despite the lack of light, she turned and leaned towards him, as though she could part the darkness and reveal his expression. ‘That sounds—’
‘Crazy, I know. What I mean is—’ He stopped.
She could hear every breath. Even feel the light puffs of air as he exhaled. The silence between them was charged, like waiting for a summer storm to break. She waited for him to go on. Now he’d begun she needed him to explain.
‘When I thought we might die, I was glad my last moments on earth were with you.’
Geoffrey wasn’t a poet, but the strange sentiment was poetic. Meg’s stomach did a flip. Darkness was seductive. It drew her confession to the surface, ready to spill from her mouth. ‘I’m glad—I wasn’t alone.’
It wouldn’t take any effort to move her hand; just a small movement and she would touch his finger. A small shift forward and their lips would meet. Why was it so easy to consider such actions when no one could see her? When Geoffrey couldn’t see her?
His breath whispered across her cheek. Was she going to act on her thoughts? Was he?
‘Margaret, I—’
Nearby, an engine revved and brakes squealed.
Bang!
They sprang from the bench. Locating the source of the crash by a pair of headlights tilted up at an odd angle, they ran towards the accident.
‘Margaret, check the passenger side. I’ll get the driver out.’
The car was wedged against a telegraph pole. Steam hissed from the ruptured radiator. Running feet and wavering torchlight approached as Meg felt her way along to the passenger door and wrenched it open. A woman fell sideways into her arms and moaned. Meg struggled to hold her deadweight.
‘Injured female this side,’ she called.
‘Here, miss, let me help with her.’ A burly soldier lifted the woman out of the car. Her head lolled back over his arm. ‘Where do you want her?’
‘I need light over here. And someone call an ambulance.’ Torchlight was trained on her, blinding her momentarily before she shielded her eyes. ‘That way.’ She pointed towards a nearby tree. ‘Bring your torch please.’
The soldier set the woman down under the tree and Meg asked the other man to shine his light on the injured woman while she examined her. The woman was in civvies and what was left of her red lipstick was smudged. Blood trickled down the woman’s cheek and, as Meg lifted a curl from her forehead, she saw the source of it was a deep cut. Making a pad of her clean hanky, she got the soldier to hold it against the wound while she checked for broken limbs. The woman had lost a shoe, and her ankle was sprained, but her head wound was the worst of her injuries.
Geoffrey appeared beside her. ‘How is she?’
‘Concussion will be the main problem. She’ll need a couple of stitches, but she lost consciousness a couple of minutes ago. How’s the driver?’
‘Chest compression from the steering wheel and in shock. Ah good, here’s the ambulance.’ Geoffrey oversaw the loading of both victims into the ambulance, and then gave a statement to the police officer who arrived on his bicycle as the ambulance was pulling away.
By the time all the drama and excitement had ended, Meg wondered at the timing. She’d been about to kiss Geoffrey—at least she’d been thinking about it, and she was fairly sure he had too. Maybe it was for the best, their interrupted interlude.
‘Are you okay, Margaret?’
‘I’m fine, but I need to get back to the hospital. It wouldn’t do to come in late on my first leave pass.’ She kept her tone light, and she said nothing about Gerry giving her an extended pass till midnight. What she needed for now was distance from Geoffrey, and time to sort through her response to him.
‘Indeed. I can’t get into Sister Platt’s bad books now if I hope to take you out next time I get to Townsville.’ He took her arm and they walked carefully down the road to the jeep.
‘So, you think there’ll be a next time?’
Geoffrey stopped and turned her towards him. ‘Would you like there to be?’
‘I think so.’ Meg prayed she would know her mind by then.