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Chapter 15
Meg slipped the voluminousapron over her head and loosely tied the waist ties behind her back. Despite Gerry’s whispered reassurances that no one could yet tell she was pregnant, she felt fat and awkward and her feet seemed too big for her shoes. What she was going to do when the temperature climbed and her feet really swelled up, heaven knew.
‘It’s a lovely day outside, Private. Wouldn’t you like to get up and enjoy some sunshine?’ She shook the thermometer, slipped it under Wharton’s tongue before he could answer then, picking up his wrist, checked his pulse. He had been slow to recover from a traumatic head wound, and his memory was still erratic, but the nineteen-year-old’s smile today suggested he was a little better.
She checked the temperature and set the thermometer in its jar to sterilise. ‘How are you feeling, Private Wharton? Any pain?’
‘Only when you leave my side, Sister.’
‘Hmm, sounds like you’re flirting with me. You must be feeling better.’ She recorded Wharton’s temperature and pulse, noting the improvements. Doc would be around soon to do his morning rounds and—
‘Sister Dorset, do you have a moment?’ She checked her watch. Doc was always on time, which made his early appearance significant.
‘I’ll be with you in one moment, Doctor.’
She turned back to her patient, conscious of Doc’s eyes on her. They both knew her departure was rapidly approaching, but Doc had treated her no differently, except for this increased surveillance. He’d been watching her like a hawk since the night he learned she was pregnant. Or maybe it just seemed that way.
She tidied the sheets, setting them straight, and, with a smile for her patient, she headed towards Doc who jerked his head towards her office. Once inside, Doc closed the door.
‘Am I correct that you’re now about five months along? How are you feeling, Margaret?’
‘And good morning to you, Doctor. I’m well, though a little tired at the end of the day. I don’t believe my work has been affected—’ God, she’d never forgive herself if her desire to work for as long as she could led to an error that affected a patient. ‘Have I done something wrong? Missed something?’
Doc shook his head and Meg sank onto her chair. Relief felt like— Her mind winged to her day at the beach. Cool water over heated skin.
‘Your work continues to be exemplary, but I’m sure you know that, Margaret. I’m also certain if you thought otherwise, you’d have been knocking on my office door requesting a leave of absence. No, I wanted to let you know, I’ve received word that 3 MRS is taking over this site and I was wondering what your plans are?’
Thinking about the likely changes, Meg nodded. ‘This would be the time for me to take leave.’ The time had arrived, not like a clock counting down to New Year, but sneaking up on her like a hunter until it was too late to dodge. Too late to change course.
‘Come to dinner with me tonight, in town. We should mark the occasion with something more than mess food.’
‘That’s kind of you, Doctor, but—’
‘No buts, Margaret. I’ll pick you up at eighteen hundred.’
‘How about I meet you out front of Currajong?’
His eyebrow rose, a faint disappointment quickly masked. ‘As you wish.’
For the rest of the day, Meg moved through the motions, aware that she was ticking a list of “lasts”. Regardless of whether she left tomorrow or the next day, she was counting down. Determined to leave her work complete, she finalised notes on the personnel files, checked the latest supplies lists, and began her letter to Doc requesting leave to attend to ‘medical issues’. That didn’t feel right, and she left the letter in her own file, to be completed after her discussion with Doc.
Geoffrey. Why can’t I think of him by name?
Self-preservation, answered her subconscious. Geoffrey was a whole other level of friendship, which, as an engaged woman, she couldn’t contemplate. Although— Was it possible to have feelings for two men at the same time?
Rubbing her forehead, she looked at the time. In twenty minutes, she was meeting Doc and if she didn’t get a wriggle on, she’d be late. She put away the files she’d worked on and left two to be completed sitting on her desk. Of all the nurses, she still couldn’t separate Gerry and Catherine as possible successors. Early on, Gerry had seemed flighty, but her friend had a core of goodness and strength and paid attention to others’ needs. Catherine was the more organised of the two, but Meg wasn’t certain she saw beneath the professional veneer as well as Gerry. If only they could both do the job.
Setting her chair under the desk, Meg switched off the desk lamp and closed the door.
***
Doc parked the jeepacross the road from the quaintly neo-Byzantine Queen’s Hotel on The Strand and strode to Meg’s side, offering her his arm to alight.
‘What a beautiful building, but I hope they don’t leave the lights glowing like that after dark.’
‘I shouldn’t think they do. Since the raids last month, regulations have been tightened.’ He led her inside and they were taken to a table with an outlook over The Strand. Meg set her handbag at her feet and glanced through the window. The sun had set as they left Currajong and Magnetic Island was melting into the darkness. Soon, the curtains would be drawn and the view, lost.
‘I thought it would be easier to talk away from the hospital.’ Doc raised a glass of whisky and tapped it against Meg’s water glass. ‘I hear the roast is good, and the management still seems to have no problem sourcing vegetables, despite the shortages mentioned in news articles.’
