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Chapter 8
Townsville
By the end of her secondday 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?’
