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Chapter 30
‘Margaret?’ Her motherrose from the sofa and took a step towards Meg. ‘Why are you carrying that child?’
Dad caught Mum’s hand, stopping her, holding her back, then he too rose. ‘Do you have something to tell us?’ Was it hurt or anger that lay beneath his words? The quaver in his voice could have been either.
A tide of guilt began building in Meg. Maybe Geoffrey had been right. She should have told them about Jennifer. Should have given them the benefit of the doubt. At least then, they would have known they had a granddaughter, even if they chose not to acknowledge her. But she’d not given them a choice.
‘I’m sorry.’
Mum twined her fingers, pressing them so tightly together her knuckles turned white. ‘We caught the bus all the way from Sydney to see you. The war’s been over for months and you haven’t come home to us.’ It was definitely pain in her mother’s expression. The pain of rejection by her only daughter. She darted glances between Meg and Jennifer, having perhaps guessed the child in her arms might be her grandchild.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again.
An awkward silence hung over the five adults before Gerry said, ‘I’ll make a cup of tea and leave you to talk.’ She edged past Geoffrey and disappeared down the hallway.
Meg only became aware of Geoffrey’s hand on her shoulder, of him standing beside her, when her parents’ gazes dropped to where it lay. They’d be wondering what that familiar touch meant, as much as why she hadn’t told them about him.
Into the tense silence between them, a gap that might as well have been the distance between earth and moon, he thrust his hand forward. ‘I’m Geoffrey Ransom, Margaret’s husband.’
Dad looked at Geoffrey’s hand then glared at him. ‘Husband, eh? You didn’t think to ask my permission before marrying my daughter?’
Meg gasped. ‘Is that your only concern – that my husband didn’t ask your permission to marry me?’
Geoffrey’s hand dropped. ‘It’s okay, Margaret. Under normal circumstances, I would have asked your father for your hand.’
‘It’s a father’s right and responsibility to choose a life partner for his daughter. Bill Hartnett is still expecting to walk you down the aisle when we bring you home, though that’s not going to happen now. Remember home, Margaret? Where your family has been waiting for you all these years while you’ve been off doing your nursing.’
‘I’ve never forgotten, not once while I was serving. Every time I talked to a patient about where he was from, I thought of all of you.’
Mum’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. ‘Then why didn’t you come home as soon as the war was over?’
‘Because it wasn’t over just because the Japanese surrendered. It wasn’t over until we’d brought home all the men and women who had been prisoners of war. I was working on the last flights to bring them home.’
‘Flights? You said you were nursing.’ Dad’s gaze narrowed on her.
‘Their families needed them just as much as you wanted me to come home.’
Mum shook her head. ‘But – flying, Margaret? What were you doing on a plane?’
Geoffrey squeezed her shoulder. ‘You should be proud of your daughter. She was the first Flying Angel when medical evacuations began last year. She and an orderly cared for our wounded on flights back to Australia. They kept flying through to December last year until every serving man and woman had been repatriated.’
Her mother did look the tiniest bit impressed, but Dad’s face had turned red. ‘So, you’re telling us that you finished last December and now, in February – three months later, you still haven’t bothered to return home to your family, and your church, where you belong.’
Something snapped in Meg. ‘I belong here, with my husband and my child.’
‘Our granddaughter!’ Her mother tried to take another step towards Meg, but her father gripped her mother’s arm.
‘You got married and had a child, and said not a word to us of either event?’
‘Actually, I had a child then got married. Her name is Jennifer, and she’s the reason I didn’t return to Sydney.’
Her father’s face had turned puce, and Meg had a vision of him collapsing from a heart attack. Dear God, she would never have chosen to tell her parents about Jennifer like this. She could be angry later, but right at this moment, she was worried. ‘Dad, are you feeling okay?’
‘Mr Dorset, allow me to—’ Geoffrey reached for her father, with a clear intention of trying to get him to sit.
Her father wrenched his arm out of Geoffrey’s. ‘Get your hands off me.’
‘I’m a doctor. You need to take it easy and—’
