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By the end of her second day at Currajong, there was still no sign of the new nurses from Brisbane, but word was that the hospital’s first patients would be arriving in two days. Meg wondered if Dr Ransom would require her to assist in an operation without a full support team.
She set the instruments into the autoclave and turned it on, barely glancing at the chart of times she had stuck on the wall above the machine. Already she was familiar with the requirements of the new machine. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she registered Dr Ransom’s presence.
‘Sister, our entire medical staff has been invited to a dance over at the Americans’ recreation hall. Since our medical staff currently consists of you and me, will you accompany me?’
‘Just two of us?’ A dance required more energy and smiling than Meg felt capable of. While she hadn’t thrown up since that morning at Adelaide River, neither had her monthlies come. By the end of each day, she was tired, wanting nothing more than her bed, and the hope of dreaming about Seamus. ‘I’m—not really in the mood for it, Doctor.’
‘That’s a pity because the request to join with our American allies and make them feel welcome came from HQ.’
‘So, it’s an order?’ Her thoughts winged to the half-written letter sitting in her locker. Her preference was to crawl into bed with a hot cup of cocoa and finish writing to Seamus.
‘Call it an unofficial expectation. I can go alone, but I don’t think the Yanks will want to dance with me.’ He grinned and folded his arms over his chest. ‘What do you say, Sister? Want to help me with hands across the sea or, in this case, feet on the dance floor? All in the name of friendship.’
Summoning a smile, Meg nodded. ‘Of course, Doctor. What time are we expected?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘How about I pick you up at your hut in an hour? That should be enough time to get dolled up and eat.’
Meg’s expectations for the evening tanked. ‘Dolled up? I left Darwin with nothing but the clothes on my back and for all I know, what I had there went up in smoke. The only clothes I have are uniforms and the Q sergeant wasn’t happy about issuing me with another set. I don’t have any civvies.’
‘Uniform is fine, and probably worthwhile as a reminder that you are a serving member of our defence force.’ A frown appeared and he hesitated before adding, ‘I’ve heard stories of some unbecoming behaviour from soldiers in Brisbane. If anyone shows you disrespect, or if you’re worried by unwanted attentions, tell me.’
Touched by his concern and reassured by his comment about wearing her uniform, Meg smiled. ‘Thank you, Doctor. I’d better get cleaned up ready to schmooze. I think that’s the word I heard.’
Doc, as she privately thought of him, laughed, a carefree shout of laughter that crinkled the corners of his brown eyes and bracketed his nose with two deep laugh lines. It was so at odds with his regular manner that she did a double take. ‘You, schmoozing? This, I have got to see, Sister. See you in an hour.’
By the time she had eaten, showered and put on a clean uniform, Meg felt better and surprised to discover a little part of her was looking forward to dancing again. How long had it been since she had danced without a care in the world? Long before her dance with the recuperating Private Matthews at the River. Tonight, it didn’t matter that she wore a uniform and had scraped out the last of a piece of lipstick donated by one of the nurses at the River. Victory Red wasn’t her colour, but it was what was available in these dark days, so she painted her lips red and smiled at her reflection in the small mirror beside the lockers.
A knock sounded at her door. She called out, ‘Coming’, rolled her lips and glanced in the mirror then dropped the tiny lipstick into her handbag and opened the door.
Doctor Ransom in full dress uniform with his hair slicked back took her by surprise. In the theatre, he worked in short sleeves, no tie, and sometimes ran his fingers through his hair so it stood up in disarray. She had no idea why she hadn’t realised what a good-looking man he was. Not that she was tempted by his looks or his position. Seamus was her man, but a woman would have to be dead or blind not to notice the doctor. He offered his arm and she took it, stepping out past the croquet lawn and down the rutted driveway.
Dr Ransom kept a firm grip on her as they picked their way over the rough ground. ‘I’ve requested the driveway be smoothed and gravel put down to eliminate the dust as soon as possible. Anything we can do to create a dust-free environment is better for our patients, especially as the plan is keep those who are dangerously ill in the veranda ward facing the driveway.’
Meg began labelling the wards in her mind with information gleaned over the past couple of days. ‘The ruts will make their ride very uncomfortable. I imagine the owners of Currajong kept their driveway in excellent condition. It’s a shame our trucks made such a mess of it when the renovations were carried out.’
‘It’s probably worse than it should be. There was heavy rain during the period they were building and the trucks caused a lot of damage. But the work had to be completed in a short time frame. Look at our hospital—we’ve built and set up wards and an operating theatre in record time.’
Record time suggested the army knew they would need these facilities sooner, not later. Did that mean Seamus was in danger?
Of course he’s in danger. He’s gone off to fight in a war.
A shiver ran down Meg’s back, chilling her heart.
‘Are you cold, Sister?’ Dr Ransom’s voice was considerate as they stood on the footpath waiting for their ride. ‘I thought the night was quite warm, but do you need a coat?’
‘No, Doctor. Just thinking about the speed with which our unit was built—and I’m sure there are plenty of others like ours. It suggests the army expects a lot of casualties to come through Townsville. It’s hard thinking of the young men who will be wounded—or die.’ She sent up a quick prayer for Seamus.
‘True, but the important thing to remember is that the closer we are to the fighting, the sooner we can tend the wounded, and the more likely we are to save them. That’s a good thing, don’t you think?’ He took out a cigarette and bent his head to a lighter. In the brief flare that lit his face before he snapped the lighter shut, Meg saw—he believed in the good they could do more than in the evil of war.
Another of his attitudes she would do well to adopt if she wasn’t to go crazy with worry about Seamus. ‘But if time is of the essence, why aren’t we closer to the front line?’
‘Townsville is the most northerly city. It’s not likely the Japanese will risk flying so far south to bomb facilities. It’s an ideal base for our army, navy, and air force. That also makes it the safest and closest location for hospitals.’ Dr Ransom turned to her. Lacking street lighting or a sliver of moonlight, she could only sense the tension in the faint outline of his body. ‘Would you volunteer for service in a field hospital?’
Would it be like the bombing of Darwin? Meg peeked through the gap in the curtain of her memories and shuddered. Bombs falling nearby had been hell on earth. The idea of bombs falling while working on a patient scared her witless. Only a fool willingly put herself in harm’s way but, even as she thought of the danger and the rumours about how the Japs had mistreated—shot? —nurses in some of the islands, she asked, ‘Why not me? Why should I stay safe at home when our men are overseas fighting for our freedom? I’m young and fit, and I have vital skills that could help them. Maybe I should volunteer to care for our injured men on the front lines?’
Headlights swung around the corner into Fulham Road, lighting a tight path as a vehicle rapidly approached. Blinded after the lack of light on the street, Meg shaded her eyes and blinked until she could see the ground. A jeep pulled up and Dr Ransom handed her into the back seat of the vehicle. She hadn’t got an answer to her question, but she wasn’t sure she wanted one. If only Seamus were here to talk about the idea with her. As much as her comment was based on a genuine belief that women who had the necessary skills should be assigned to theatres of war, she feared that, with the possibility of her pregnancy, she was mouthing nothing more than bravado.
Pondering how honest she had been filled the journey. The jeep pulled up near the American servicemen’s recreation hall from which light spilled through wide double doors. No one seemed concerned that, when the doors opened, bright yellow light streamed through, flouting blackout orders. Loud jazz music filled the air and, when Meg reached the doorway, the blare of music and the jumping dancers vibrated up through her soles. Music and an almost forgotten anticipation washed over her, seeped through her pores and insinuated itself into her feet. All at once, she was glad she had been given no choice about coming.
At the coat-check desk, Dr Ransom leaned towards her, a necessary closeness if he wanted to be heard over the mix of music and loud voices. ‘Can I fetch you a glass of punch, Sister, or would you like to hit the dance floor first?’
Meg collected the ticket for her bag and tucked it in her pocket. Her foot was tapping as a jitterbug finished and a new song began, one she recognised as a new Frank Sinatra song from the Armed Forces radio show back in Adelaide River. ‘I’d love to dance since you’re asking, thank you.’
He led her towards the dance floor. The song was a ballad and the dance was slow—perfect if Seamus were here. But he was far away, and tonight—well, it would be good for her morale if she let it. Smiling at her partner, Meg focused on the music, and the joy of dancing once more.
Dr Ransom danced well, considerate of her in the crush of dancers. A few slow turns into the dance, he smiled at her. ‘Thank goodness.’
Wondering what had caught his attention she looked around then met his eyes. ‘Who or what are you thankful for, Doctor?’
‘You look as though you’re enjoying yourself, Sister. Finally. I admit I was a bit concerned that you only accompanied me because you felt it was your duty. I may have fudged the truth a little to get you to come tonight.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘HQ didn’t really say we had to come, but you’ve worked hard assisting with the setting up of the theatre and I thought you deserved a night out. This invitation came from an American doctor I recently met. It seemed just the ticket. Forgive me?’
Struck by this social side of Dr Ransom and increasingly comfortable in his company, Meg saw no problem. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. It’s very kind of you to offer this treat, Doctor.’
‘Geoffrey, please, or Geoff if you prefer. While we’re here, at least.’
The song ended and the bandmaster informed them the orchestra would be taking a ten-minute break. ‘But don’t go far, folks. We’ll be back with another new one from the 1942 hit parade.’
‘Doctor—’
‘Geoffrey.’ He looked past her, waved then took her elbow. ‘Come and meet Dr Newton. He’s a surgeon with the American hospital at— ‘Don, hello.’ Geoffrey extended a hand to the man who had stopped beside her.
‘Don, this is Lt Margaret Dorset who is my new theatre nurse. Margaret, Dr Newton.’
She smiled. ‘Pleased to meet you, Doctor.’
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, held it between both of his.
‘Margaret. And do they call you Meg for short?’ His smile was wide and white and even, like the film stars in her favourite movies. Like Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind. But his accent was more like John Wayne’s drawl in the last cowboy movie she’d seen. The name of the movie escaped her.
‘Margaret?’ Geoffrey’s use of her name brought her back to earth.
‘Most people call me Margaret.’ Meg belonged to Seamus, and to her family. ‘I prefer Margaret.’
Dr Newton offered his arm and smiled. ‘May I escort you to the refreshments, Margaret? If that’s okay by you, Geoff?’
Geoffrey looked to her for her agreement. When she nodded, he stepped aside. ‘I’ll see you later, Sister.’
As they approached a long trestle table laden with food, and bowls into which a cook was tipping what looked like miniature hamburgers, Meg’s tastebuds woke up and yahooed. The Americans had more variety of food than she’d seen in months. ‘I’d heard you weren’t on rations, but this is amazing. There’s even oranges!’
‘Help yourself. Take a couple back home if you like. Would you prefer a glass of punch, or something with more of a mule kick to it?’
‘Punch please.’
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a bourbon. I can add Coke if you don’t want it neat.’ Behind the bar, a bartender rested his knuckles on the wood, waiting for the doctor’s drink order.
‘Just punch, thanks.’
While the American doctor ordered a bourbon for himself and a punch for the little lady, Meg selected one of the small hamburgers and an orange and—just because she could—added a slice of some kind of sticky, nutty tart.
When Dr Newton returned with their drinks, he nodded towards the rear of the dance floor. Once there, a wall and the edge of the stage created a small space around them. Meg set her plate on the edge of the stage and gratefully sipped her punch. ‘It’s hot in here with so many bodies, isn’t it? Hotter than where I come from at this time of year.’
‘Sure is. We could go outside, but the way Geoff looked at you, I don’t think I should risk raising his hackles.’
Meg frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Don frowned right back at her, but there was a glint in his eyes. ‘Are you telling me there’s nothing between you two?’
‘We met a few days ago. Dr Ransom is my superior officer. That’s all.’
‘So you’re not taken. Well, that’s good news. Would you like to go out—’
‘Dr Newton, there is nothing between me and Dr Ransom, but I am engaged. To a soldier who’s just been sent overseas.’
The glint in his eyes diminished, but not entirely. ‘My apologies, Margaret. I don’t poach another man’s lady, but I thought . . . Never mind. I hope you’ll forget I asked you outside.’
‘Forgotten, Doctor.’ She smiled as further assurance no offence had been taken. ‘So, were you a surgeon before you joined up?’
‘Sort of. I’m newly come to the soldiering side of it. I started out as an obstetric gynaecologist.’ His gaze pinned hers over his glass before he drank. ‘Go ahead and say it. Everyone else does.’
‘There are no women soldiers so—’
‘So why include an obstetrician, right? Yeah, well, where I come from, and no one seems to know why this is, I ended up having to perform more surgeries on patients with problems other than the usual procedures in gynaecological surgery. I figured if I was doing those surgeries, I wanted to expand my surgical training. I mean, when you’re the only surgeon in a broad area of a county, it pays to know as much as possible. When the Japs hit Pearl Harbour, I was most of the way through my training. The army convinced me to join up, and here I am.’
Strange as it was that she’d met an obstetrician in a town on the edge of a war, Dr Newton might be the answer to her need. ‘Do you think it would be possible for me to consult you—in your capacity as an obstetrician?’
Dr Newton’s eyes narrowed. ‘For a medical condition?’
Shaking her head, Meg shored up her courage. In for a penny, in for a pound. She’d raised the topic. Dr Newton might well decline, but she had to know for certain so she could plan her departure if necessary. ‘I might be pregnant, but I’m not sure. I don’t feel that I can ask Dr Ransom, not when we have to work together.’
‘To your fiancé?’
‘Yes. I was hoping to tell him when I arrived in Townsville so we could be married straightaway, but he was sent overseas before I arrived. Her voice dropped and her gaze fell to her glass. ‘This wretched war.’
‘Margaret, I’d be happy to help. I’ll need time to find a rabbit, or maybe a toad. I hear they’re pretty common around sugarcane farms. When I have, I’ll set up a time to see you.’
Meg extended a hand. ‘Thank you, Doctor. I am so appreciative, but please don’t tell Dr Ransom. If the test is negative, I don’t want him to know it happened, and if it’s positive, I want to be the one to tell him. He’s put so much time into giving me further training as a theatre nurse.’
‘You have my word.’
The band returned to the stage and Dr Newton held out a hand. ‘I believe this is my dance. Shall we?’
##
It was after eleven when the jeep dropped them back to Currajong. Geoffrey—Dr Ransom, now we’re back here, she reminded herself—took her arm for the walk down the driveway. A sliver of moon cast just enough light for them to pick their way over the rutted ground. At the door to her hut, they stopped, and Dr Ransom put his hands in his pockets. ‘Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Sister?’
‘I did, thank you, Doctor. It was just the tonic I needed.’
‘Excellent. See you at eight sharp in theatre.’
‘Yes, Doctor. And with luck, the rest of your nurses might arrive tomorrow.’ How she hoped they did, especially now they had a firm arrival time for their first intake of patients. She’d feel guilty if she had to leave before she had trained up her replacement for Dr Ransom.
‘One can hope, but our first patients will definitely be arriving so we know we’ll be busy.’ He waited until she found her key and opened the door. ‘Well, good night, Sister.’
‘Good night, Doctor.’ As he strolled towards his cabin, his lighter flared and the smell of a cigarette wafted across before she closed her door and switched on the light.
The single bulb barely gave the room a dim gloom after the bright lights of the Americans’ recreation hall. Her unfinished letter to Seamus lay beside her bed. Hours earlier, it had seemed like the most important thing in her evening. Then she had met Don Newton.
She really should finish writing now but, energised as she had been by the dancing, a wave of fatigue crashed over her. With just enough rational thought to know it would be sensible to wait until she had her test results from Dr Newton, she washed her face and stripped off her uniform before falling into bed.