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Chapter 11
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‘Meg, what did Dr Ransomsay about wearing civvies to the dance with the Americans? Please tell me you asked him?’ Gerry held her red dress against her waist, dancing from foot to foot and making the skirt swish. The dress was a triumph of a skilled dressmaker’s art, and although the silhouette was slim, thanks to restrictions on material, the fluted edge flicked up as she moved.
Meg turned from the mirror, a precious new tube of lipstick in her hand thanks to her mother’s care package. Not that Mum approved of bright red lipstick—or any make up for that matter—but Victory Red was patriotic, if only by name. Enough to assuage Mum’s scruples. ‘I did ask him, but the answer is still no.’ She turned back and carefully added colour to her bottom lip.
‘Blast. Why not, did he say?’ Gerry seemed disappointed but resigned as she set the hanger back on a hook.
Meg rolled her lips together and leaned close to the mirror. ‘For the same reason he gave me when we attended the first dance.’ Satisfied with the look of her lips, she met Gerry’s disappointed gaze. ‘If we are in uniform, it reminds everyone we are serving members of the Australian defence forces and deserving of their respect for our service.’
‘But we’re deserving of respect as attractive women too, so why not brighten everyone’s night and let us doll up? I’d love to see more than beige, navy, and drab greens for once.’ Gerry sighed and ran her hand over the beading on her red dress. ‘Sorry, little bird. Not this time.’
‘I’m sorry, Gerry. I know you were hoping to take your dress out for a spin. You know, when Doc first said that, I thought it was because I had nothing but a uniform to wear and he was trying to make me feel better. Now, I think he believes it. Doc is nothing if not honest.’
‘It’s fine, Maggie darling. I kind of like how protective Doc is of all of us. I sometimes think he likes you. Turn around.’
‘What? Wherever did you get that idea?’ She turned at the insistent push of a hand and faced the mirror.
Gerry adjusted a hairpin in Meg’s hair then set both hands on Meg’s shoulders and spoke over her shoulder to their reflections. ‘If you weren’t engaged, I think he’d be asking you out on a date. He watches you when you aren’t looking, you know.’
Meg spun around, needing to see more than Gerry’s reflection. Her friend wasn’t joking. She sank onto the bunk, clutching her lipstick. ‘You’re wrong, Gerry. You have to be. We work together. And I’m engaged.’
‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty sure he’s too honourable to act on his feelings, but he does like you. Just saying . . .’ Gerry’s voice trailed off and she gripped Meg’s shoulder. ‘Hey, I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. You know me, Gerry Bigmouth. Forget I said anything . . . Please?’
Meg’s heart thudded as though she’d run the whole way from the beach to the hospital, a feat she would never achieve. Had she really been blind to signs Gerry had seen? Was it possible that Geoff’s interest in her—an interest she’d noticed, but put down to his pleasure in her developing professional skills—was something more personal? The shock of Gerry’s revelation prickled across her skin like a spring allergy. ‘I—I’ve got reports to finish writing. I won’t go tonight.’
‘Margaret Olivia Dorset! Is this the same nurse who faced the bombing of Darwin then tended a truckload of wounded men on a track in the Territory? Don’t turn coward, Maggie.’
Meg shook her head. ‘I need time to think about what you said.’
‘What’s there to think about? Are you going to act on it now you know? I seriously doubt it.’ Gerry took both her hands and pulled her to her feet.
‘Even if you were right—and I’m not saying you are—we’ve got a job to do. And again, I’m engaged. Of course I’m not going to act on it.’
‘Then why not come to the dance tonight? Have some fun, relax, flirt a little. It’s harmless. Surely you can have one dance with Doc and not make a goose of yourself?’ Genuinely upset, Gerry pleaded both with words and with her eyes. ‘Come on, Maggie. Please?’
Dr Ransom would also expect to claim a dance, and he’d invited her outside before he learned of her engagement. What was going on? Were there too few women amongst so many men geed up for war? Or was it the doctor-nurse thing she’d heard about when she was training in Sydney, common because they spent hours working together? Suddenly the whole evening just felt too hard.
If she stayed, she could write up personnel reports in peace. And there was another benefit, one she wouldn’t share with Gerry. Maybe she could do something unexpected and nice for Eva that would help the nurse settle down. Unbuttoning her jacket, she turned her back on Gerry. ‘Eva can go. I’m staying.’
‘No, you can’t. You deserve an evening out. I won’t let you, Maggie.’
‘Sue me.’
‘What?’ Gerry tipped her head and frowned.
Deflated yet sure staying home was the safe move, Meg shrugged. ‘It’s an American expression I heard. Sort of means, what can you do about it?’
Folding her arms across her chest, Gerry tapped her toes and pinned Meg with the look of a woman on a mission. ‘I wonder if Doc Ransom will allow his head nurse to work late while the rest of us go out and have fun?’
‘You wouldn’t dare tell him.’
‘Why should you cover Eva’s shift? It’s her bad luck it just happened to fall on the night the Yanks decided to have another dance. Besides, what about the other nurses on night duty? How are you going to make it fair to them? And why can’t Cate and I have a night away from Eva?’
Meg recognised the last-ditch attempt to guilt her into going. Gerry hadn’t warmed to Eva, and Cate put up with her at work and off duty, although if Doc’s information was correct, more nurses would arrive on the next train and dilute the “Eva-effect”, as Meg privately called it. ‘I’ve already been to one, so if I swap with her this time, I can stay and write my reports in peace and keep an eye on our appendicitis case.’
‘Maggie—’
