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Meg’s stomach contracted, bile rushed up her throat and she threw up again. She pushed back a loose tendril of hair and rocked back on her heels.
Heavens, do I have food poisoning?
When she felt there couldn’t be anything left in her stomach, she spat out the awful taste. Her eyes were streaming, and her head was heavy, but other than that, it was just this horrid retching.
Feeling shaky, she stood, shovelled dirt into the hole and stepped through the flap of the open-roofed latrine. Crossing to the washing station, she scrubbed her hands and hoped Matron didn’t need her early on the ward. At least not until her stomach had settled.
‘Sister Dorset!’ Jimmy, the captain’s clerk, waved at her. He raced over and presented her with a letter. ‘It’s from Corporal Flanagan, Sister. I thought you’d want it straight away. I haven’t even given Matron her mail yet.’
Touched at how wonderful the men were about her and Seamus, she patted his arm and smiled. ‘Thanks, Private Langdon.’
With a wink and a smile in return, Jimmy raced back to his post and continued sorting the mail.
Sucking in a deep breath, Meg headed into the mess tent. No one else seemed to be unwell and breakfast was almost over. Maybe she had just been unlucky, but the thought of food sent her stomach into backflips. As Cook approached and lifted the lid on the leavings of scrambled eggs, Meg’s stomach gave another of those uncomfortable flips. She stepped away from the food, waved her hands as though she could magic up a barrier, and shook her head. ‘Just tea, thanks, Cookie.’
‘You’ll waste away, Sister.’ He nodded at the letter she clutched in her lap as he set a mug of tea in front of her. ‘News from your soldier, hey?’
‘Yes. It’s been a while. Matron hasn’t sent for me yet and I’ve half an hour until my shift starts.’
‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your letter.’ He shuffled back to his pots and pans.
Meg set Seamus’s letter on the table and ran a hand over the writing. An unfamiliar hand, since she’d never seen anything he had written while they were together, and yet she thought she would have known it was from him even without his details in the top corner. She examined them, running a finger over his name. No location, just his company.
A sip of tea slipped down easily, and her stomach behaved. She opened his letter. Chunks of writing had been blacked out, censored by some clerk who had read Seamus’s words before they reached her. She frowned, knowing it was necessary, but resenting it all the same. She took another sip of tea and told herself off. They were in the middle of a war and such details were not important. What was important was that Seamus had written and she had his letter in her hand. Greedy to hear his voice in his words, she read:
Meg, macushla,
I love you and miss you madly. Got to say the most important things first in case I have to finish writing this quickly. I’ll be [section blacked out].
No idea how long it will be until I can hold you in my arms again.
Our captain says [section blacked out]. Not the greatest news, but as we expected.
Expected? She decided that meant he was being sent overseas. Seamus had said as much before he left. Perhaps Townsville was a major launch point for the Allied efforts. Where would he be sent?
Little news had reached them here at Adelaide River, but she knew from the trucks rattling through to and from Darwin that the northern city had taken a severe battering and the Japanese were pressing forward through islands to the north. Injured servicemen on their way south and drivers heading north had all offered similar information. Some trucks rested at the River overnight, and those times were the busiest. Meg didn’t mind though. Being busy kept her mind off wondering about Seamus as she tended young men’s wounds.
She held the double-sided page up and continued reading.
Do you fancy a big white wedding or shall we ‘tie the knot’ with only a pair of witnesses? I fancy the latter choice, and the sooner, the better. I can’t wait to make you my wife.
Dad and Mum would prefer the big white wedding, but how ‘white’ could it be with the restrictions that were in place. Sydney was so far away, and heaven knew when they would get leave, let along enough to travel south and get married.
If we can even travel that far for personal reasons.
Meg stared through the open door of the mess without really seeing anything. Her top priority was to marry Seamus, and if two witnesses and a minister was all the law required, she’d marry him tomorrow.
‘Sister Dorset?’ Meg looked up as Jimmy skidded to a halt in front of her. ‘Matron wants you at the hospital right away.’
‘Thanks, Jimmy. On my way!’ She gulped down a large mouthful of tea, slipped Seamus’s letter into its envelope, and stood. A wave of dizziness engulfed her. Her hand shot out and she leaned on the table, eyes closed for several moments.
‘Sister, are you okay?’
Sucking a draft of air through her mouth, Meg opened her eyes to see Cookie standing beside Jimmy. Cookie shook his head, but he looked concerned. ‘She didn’t eat any breakfast and then expects to go work on the ward all day.’
‘You can’t survive on love alone, Sister.’ Jimmy frowned and, she wasn’t sure if she imagined it, his gaze flicked down her body. But Jimmy wasn’t like that, ogling the nurses. It must have been the dizziness making her see things.
‘I’m fine but thank you both. I promise I’ll come back and get some food if I can after I find out why Matron wants me.’ Fixing a smile in place and touched anew by how caring the men were, she put back her shoulders and headed off to the hospital.
But the memory of Jimmy’s gaze flickering down her body—to her waist, she felt sure—sent unease niggling through her mind as she catalogued her illness this morning. Was she—could she possibly be—pregnant?
The idea jumped fully formed into her mind. She stopped abruptly; hands pressed against her stomach. She and Seamus hadn’t used any form of protection when they’d made love. They hadn’t even talked about the possibility of a baby resulting from their love. A baby!
She couldn’t. Being engaged to be married wouldn’t satisfy the neighbours back home. No sex before the ‘I do’s’ had been exchanged, no matter that young men were heading off to fight—and some to die—for King and Country. How long would it be before Seamus got leave? Would he return in time for them to be married before their baby was born?
She pulled herself up short. I don’t even know if I am pregnant.
But throwing up before breakfast wasn’t like her. She swallowed her fears, drew a deep breath, and covered the last few yards into the hospital ward.
‘Sister Dorset, I’ve received word that you’re to be transferred to a hospital in Townsville.’
Meg’s heart leapt. Seamus was in Townsville. When she got there, she could find out for sure if she carried his child, and perhaps they could be wed before he went overseas. ‘When do I leave?’
‘On the next truck heading south. I’ll be sorry to lose you, Meg, especially the way the River is expanding. You’re a good nurse, but Townsville might get heavy casualties soon and they’ll need nurses with combat wound experience. I’ve put your name forward for immediate advanced training in theatre. From what your patients out of Darwin said, and what I’ve seen of you here, you don’t lose your head in tough situations.’
‘Thank you, Matron. I appreciate your faith in me, and the opportunity to increase my skills.’
‘Have you eaten? You look peaky.’
Meg shook her head. She was unwilling to mention her throwing up to Matron. ‘I got a letter from my fiancé this morning and was too excited reading it to eat.’
‘Go and eat now. I’ll see you in twenty minutes, and Sister—’
‘Yes, Matron?’
‘Food first, every day. If you collapse, how will you nurse your patients?’
‘Understood, Matron. It won’t happen again.’
Hopeful that she was wrong or would find a way to overcome her morning sickness if she was pregnant, Meg hightailed it back to the mess tent. Jimmy and Cookie were in a huddle beside the army-sized teapot, but, when Jimmy spotted her, he said something to Cookie before carrying a mug of steaming tea to her.
‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, and my apologies if I’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Sister, but I heard you throwing up, and then when Cookie said you weren’t eating breakfast—well—it’s not like you. My sister used to drink ginger tea when her stomach was upset. Said it worked a treat for her, and I thought you might like to try some.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.’ She lifted the mug and sniffed the pale brew. Pieces of chopped ginger floated in the water, but her stomach didn’t flip at the aroma. It smelled enticing. ‘Did your sister suffer often with an upset tummy?’
Jimmy’s cheeks turned beetroot-red, and he dropped his gaze. ‘Only when she was in the family way, Sister.’ He looked up and met her gaze. ‘I don’t mean to suggest you are too—in the family way, I mean—but I thought, if it helped Doris then, it might help your upset stomach now.’
Meg froze. How could Jimmy know? Did Jimmy know what she had only begun to suspect?
‘I’m sure my upset stomach will be fine soon, but thanks, Jimmy.’
‘My pleasure, Sister.’ His smile was quick and then he was gone.
Meg blew over the top of the brew, sending a stream of steam into the day then sipped. Delicious. However it worked, the important thing was that she felt better as she drank, and when Cookie brought over a couple of slices of toast with a thin scraping of Vegemite, she felt confident of getting through the day.
‘You’re not to leave until you’ve finished what’s on your plate, Sister.’ He folded his arms across his chest, and she knew he wasn’t going to budge unless she began eating.
‘Thanks, Cookie.’ With Cookie hovering like a mother hen, she bit into the toast, chewed and swallowed. ‘I feel better already. And I promise I won’t skip a meal tomorrow.’ She took another bite and gave an exaggerated ‘Yummy!’
Cookie unfolded his brawny arms and nodded. ‘Better. And so you know, I’ve got plenty of fresh ginger to make you more tea—’ He looked a little uncomfortable. ‘If you need it. Jimmy found a clump of ginger not far from camp.’
‘Good to know.’ Had Jimmy guessed her condition and shared it with Cookie? Unable to meet Cookie’s eye, Meg kept her head down and focused on eating every bite of toast. She finished her ginger tea and felt more settled in herself, but only marginally less embarrassed. Good girls didn’t make love with men before they married them. Good girls didn’t fall pregnant out of wedlock. Had her love for Seamus turned her into—a bad girl?
By the time she’d washed her mug and plate, she was no nearer finding an answer and had to hustle to make it into the ward for the start of her shift.
##
Meg sat in front of Jimmy Langdon’s radio and looked up at him. He was young, just turned nineteen, he’d told her, but practical and organised. For once, the army had got the right person in the job, she thought.
‘You’re sure you won’t get into trouble for this?’
‘No, Sister, it’s all good, but keep it short, okay.’ He glanced over his shoulder before he nodded to her. ‘Go ahead. I’ll be just outside keeping watch.’
‘Thank you.’
Jimmy took up a position near the entrance, struck a match and lit a cigarette. He should have been at university studying the classics, not fighting in this dreadful, dreadful war. He should have been dating girls and going to dances and having fun, like all the other young men.
She pressed her lips together and turned her full attention to his radio set and suddenly, there was Seamus’s voice coming down the line.
‘Meg, my sweet. How are you?’
‘Fine. Well.’
We might be having a baby and I’ve been throwing up and it’s awful, but . . .
Her courage failed her as she stared at the dark machine. It was wrong to tell him she might be pregnant like this – over the radio. He deserved to hear it from her lips, and she wanted her lips close enough to his when she told him. Close enough to kiss her; his arms close enough to enfold her. ‘How are you?’
‘Delighted to hear your voice, my darling. Are you sure everything’s okay? This call is risky.’
She cleared her throat. ‘I just had to let you know - I’m being transferred to Townsville. My orders just came through.’
‘Meg, macushla, grand news. Do you want me to see if I can chase up a priest so we can . . .?’
‘Not a priest. I’m not Catholic, remember?’ But it thrilled her that he was so keen to marry her. Her, not the maybe-mother of his baby. Why, she might even have her wedding night this week!
‘Hmm, what about an army chaplain? All-denominations catered for. Shall I ask around, Meg?’
Jimmy began whistling Tipperary. Someone was approaching.
‘Yes. Do it. I’ve got to go. I love you, Seamus.’
‘I love you, Meg. See you soon.’
Meg stood abruptly and shoved Jimmy’s seat back under the radio table then took up her agreed position behind the seat, a couple of pieces of paper in her hand.
Jimmy stuck his head inside and spoke clearly. ‘I’m sorry, Sister, but I’ll have to deal with your request a bit later. The captain needs me.’
Meg took a deep breath and stepped outside. ‘No problem, Private. I’ll come back after my shift.’ She saluted Captain Keller. ‘Sir.’
‘Sorry to interrupt your business, Sister.’
‘It can wait, sir. I’m needed on the ward.’
She turned on her heel and headed towards the hospital, her steps matching the joyful refrain running through her mind.
This week. I’ll be marrying Seamus this week.