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Eva’s shoulders tensed beneath Meg’s hands. She sat straight and sniffed loudly. ‘I did see them. I’m not making it up. They all fell into the water.’
Dr Ransom offered a hand to help first Meg, then Eva up from the ground. ‘Perhaps a hot cup of tea might help?’
‘I’ll see what I can rustle up. Come with me, Eva.’
‘I’d rather go to bed.’
Maybe she was embarrassed about breaking down in Meg’s arms. Against her better judgement, she allowed the tremor in Eva’s voice to convince her. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Eva pushed hair off her face and walked a less than straight line to her hut.
‘Do you suspect her of drinking, Margaret?’
Meg shook her head and rubbed her upper arms. The night was cool and she hadn’t felt warm even before she left the hut. ‘I didn’t smell alcohol on her, but she arrived back from her evening much later than permitted, and she was genuinely distraught. But if there was a bombing raid, why didn’t we hear any alarms?’
Dr Ransom rubbed a thumb over his lower lip and frowned. ‘That is odd. I’ll call Garbutt air base and see what I can find out. Come into my office while I make the call.’
They passed a line of sleeping patients on the way to Doc’s office in the front corner of the veranda. He pushed open the door and closed it behind Meg before turning on a desk lamp. A neat pile of case notes was stacked in one corner, but the ink blotter showed signs of recent writing. He opened the lowest filing drawer, took out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. ‘Care to join me, Margaret? It will warm you up.’
Mindful of Don Newton’s comments about not imbibing spirits, she shook her head. ‘I don’t drink, but thank you.’
He poured a small glass for himself and tossed it back before replacing the bottle and glasses in the drawer. ‘I’m not a fan of bourbon, but Don gave it to me after I helped him with advice on an unusual surgery. I’d prefer a good malt whisky, but beggars can’t be choosers. Now, that call.’ He picked up the receiver and waited for the operator. At this time of night, the connection was quickly made, but whomever Doc wanted to speak to was slow coming to the phone.
By the time he ended the call, Meg decided that all doctors must be taught how to suppress their emotions, because she had no idea from his expression whether the answers he’d been given were good or bad. ‘Well? Was there a raid?’
‘Yes. Reports vary between two and four planes, but Japanese flying boats dropped six bombs, all of which landed in the sea. Probably going after the harbour installations, which were lit up like a da—like a fairyland. In the end, the Americans either smashed or shot out the harbour lights. It seems no one knew whose job it was to switch them off.’
‘Why didn’t we hear a siren?’
‘The ones in town worked, but the electrical system servicing our area sirens failed. None sounded near here or out at Garbutt. There was no aerial response, and the colonel I spoke with is of a mind that the Japs were—pardon the pun—testing the waters to see what our response might be.’
‘I hope there is one next time—a response, I mean.’ Praying she wouldn’t go through another bombing like Darwin, Meg let out a sigh. ‘Should I tell my nurses or are we to keep quiet about tonight?’
‘Best to give them the facts in case Sister Smith’s retelling exaggerates the size of the raid. And be sure to tell them the air force will be on watch from now on. We’ve got what pilots call a bomber’s moon. The Japs might try again, but we’ll be ready for them. This won’t be like Darwin. You’ll be safe here, Margaret. Would you like to have that cup of tea we talked about?’
Her head lifted at his tone. Not quite intimate, but personal and caring enough to remind her she was alone with him in a sleeping ward. Enough to remind her how appealing a man who cared could be. Enough to remind her of Gerry’s comment that Doc liked her. His care and concern for her could slip under her guard and make her forget her engaged status if she wasn’t careful.
Seamus trusts me to wait for him, and I will. Me and our baby.
Folding her arms across her chest, she accepted that she liked Doc. It was impossible not to appreciate his fine qualities. But she would not like him in that way. ‘I pray we’ll all be safe. Thank you for sharing the information with me, Doctor. I’ll give the tea a miss and say good night. With luck I might catch a few more hours of sleep.’
‘Probably a good idea. Good night, Margaret. Sleep well.’ Was she imagining disappointment that she was leaving? A midnight conversation with her superior was one thing, but they’d teetered on the edge of something more—of being simply a man and a woman together in the wee hours of morning.
Witching hours, when people made wrong turns.
She slipped out of the room through the smallest opening of his door so as not to disturb the patients nearest to his office then gently closed the door behind her. With swift steps, she left the ward and hurried down the path back to her hut. It was all very well talking about sleeping through the rest of the night. In truth, she was certain sleep would elude her.
As she let herself back into her hut, her mind whirled. Japanese bombers attacking Townsville, and Dr Ransom offering tea and comfort in the dead of night. Neither event was conducive to sleep, but she snuggled beneath her blankets, closed her eyes and prayed. ‘Please keep Seamus safe, keep our pilots alert, and please dear Lord, remind me every day how lucky I am to have found the love of my life. Keep me steadfast and true. Amen.’
##
By the time Meg joinedthe other nurses at breakfast, Eva was preening over what had become her starring role in the attack.
‘. . . and then we raced back to Bill’s HQ to report what we’d seen. It was ever so frightening, but it was lucky we were there to see and report it.’
‘Weren’t you scared silly?’ Mary asked.
‘Of course, but we were eyewitnesses. We had to tell what we saw.’
