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Gerry signed off onMeg’s leave pass with a huge smile on her face. ‘Doc’s first leave in ages and he’s come to see you. Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my dress?’
‘Don’t stress me out like that, Gerry. It’s just good friends catching up. Geoff—Doc didn’t make it down to Brisbane before his transfer; that’s all this is.’
‘I know, but hey, don’t rush home.’
Meg took the pass from Gerry and frowned. ‘You’ve extended the time to midnight, why?’
‘I want you to have a wonderful night, that’s why. Don’t overthink everything. You haven’t asked for any leave since you got here. You deserve tonight. Just enjoy the evening.’
Now, Meg stood on the footpath and adjusted her hat for the umpteenth time as she waited for Geoffrey. Despite Gerry’s excitement, Meg’s emotions were nowhere near excited. They were all over the shop. She wanted to spend time with Geoffrey. She didn’t want to be unfaithful to Seamus. She longed to simply chat with Doc and regain the simple relationship they had shared last year, but she feared veering towards the personal.
‘Argh!’ As she bit off a frustrated sigh, Vera’s sage advice drifted through her mind. You can choose, Meg . . . Choose . . .
Was tonight such a choice? Would she have to choose between being happy or stepping away from what Geoffrey offered?
A jeep approached, slowed, stopped, and a moment later, Geoffrey came around to her side of the vehicle. ‘Good evening, Margaret. It’s wonderful to see you waiting there.’ He opened the door and held out his hand.
‘Geoffrey.’ She took his hand—it was warm, smooth-skinned, and strong. A hand she trusted in the operating theatre to be steady and to save lives. A hand extended to her in friendship—and something more?
Wait and see what the evening brings.Gerry had nagged her and then sat her done and styled her hair before adding a touch of colour to her cheeks. Meg swallowed against her uncertainty and confusion. Gerry’s advice was sensible.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I managed to get a table at the Queen’s Hotel. I hope that’s okay. There isn’t a lot of choice if you want a decent meal these days.’ He started the engine, but they sat unmoving as he looked at her.
‘The Queen’s will be lovely, thank you.’
‘I’m glad you accepted my invitation, Margaret. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would.’ Then he engaged first gear and they rolled down the street.
The breeze from their passage cooled Meg’s cheeks. If her welcome this morning had been lacking warmth, what did it say about her? And yet, Geoffrey had persevered and invited her anyway.
Having booked at the last minute, their table at the hotel was in the rear of the dining room. Geoffrey held her chair as she sat then took his own seat. ‘No view of the sea, I’m afraid, but we can stroll along the beach later if you like and take in some sea air. Or not. It’s up to you, Margaret.’
‘That sounds like a fine idea.’ Reminding herself how considerate Geoffrey had been helped settle the jitters in her stomach, and when the waitress took their drink orders, Meg dared to order an Old-fashioned.
‘Should I take notice that’s your preference for the future?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve never had one before.’
‘What do you like? Champagne?’
‘On occasion. I’m not much of a drinker.’
‘So—does your taking a step towards a new drink mean you’re open to change in other areas? I’m just curious, mind you.’
Meg folded her hands on the table and met his gaze. ‘I’m still finding my way forward for now, Geoffrey.’
He nodded. ‘I understand, and frankly, I expected nothing less from you. I know you’re grieving, and you’re loyal and true to the memory of your fiancé, but I hope that time will help you to find a new path. I’m waiting on one of them, and hoping that, when you’re ready, you’ll choose to step onto mine.’
His words echoed Vera’s sentiments, and that simple fact lifted a weight from Meg’s shoulders. ‘Thank you for understanding. For now, I just need to work to get through each day. I need to make a difference in this wretched war, to feel I’m doing all I can to defeat it.’
Geoffrey nodded and covered her hand with his. ‘You do make a difference, Margaret—every day in the hospital. I admire your work ethic, your compassion, your skill.’
‘All the nurses are skilled, and Gerry’s doing a wonderful job.’
‘So I hear.’ He looked down to where his hand sat over hers and was quiet for several moments. When he looked up, his expression was unreadable. ‘What would you like for dinner? I believe the choice is steak, or beef pie.’
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