Page 53 of Under the Dark Moon

‘Everything happened so quickly between Seamus and me and I guess I need reassurance that we aren’t just another side story of the war.’

Gerry nudged Meg. ‘If you weren’t so gassy and pregnant, I’d shake you for thinking that. Seriously, Maggie, I doubt you would make such a mistake about Seamus. You’re practical and sensible and—’

‘And in love.’

‘That too.’

‘Don’t they say love is blind? What if I—misunderstood Seamus’s attentions and let myself get caught up in the whole wartime romance thing. Picnicking under a tropical moon, the pressure of knowing one or both of us could be posted elsewhere in the blink of an eye?’ Second-guessing why Seamus hadn’t written had done awful things to her self-confidence. ‘How well do I really know my fiancé?’

‘How well do any of us know each other? You liked what you saw of him enough to accept his proposal.’

The speed of her courtship, if those weeks in Adelaide River could be so called, stunned Meg. ‘Everything is different during a war. Emotions are more intense. Time is condensed.’

She frowned. ‘Actually, I’m not sure condensed is the right word. Time saunters and strolls and then suddenly it gallops like a horse in the Melbourne Cup. It doesn’t run smoothly like it used to. Nothing is like it was.’

‘No, it isn’t, and I don’t think it will ever be the same again.’

They sat quiet and companionable while Meg’s thoughts chased each other through her mind without settling on an answer.

‘Do you doubt Seamus is true?’

Gerry’s question could have popped out of Meg’s brain. She set one foot on the bench, wrapped her arms around her leg and rested her chin on her knee. ‘Of course, I don’t want to think that. But—it is possible. There’s another thing. What if he picked up on something in my letters?’

‘Something as in—what?’ Gerry’s eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing Meg’s turmoil.

Resting her cheek on her knee Meg wondered about the power of night. Caught in this dim patch of light enveloped by darkness was like she imagined a Catholic confessional to be, with Gerry as the priest. Or maybe it was less Catholic and her friend was an ancient high priestess. Either way, spilling her guts released some of her fears. ‘I like Doc. I respect his work, but maybe I’ve written too much about him when I only meant to describe what’s happened in the hospital. What if Seamus thinks I’ve fallen for a man who’s with me every day?’

‘Hmm. What if you’re only just realising that in fact you have fallen for Doc like I’m sure he’s fallen for you? Would that be such a terrible thing?’

‘Yes, when I’m carrying another man’s child.’

‘Doc knows about the baby, and yet he still invited you out. That has to tell you something.’

Meg met Gerry’s gaze and drew a deep breath. ‘Doc proposed.’

‘What—’ Gerry was thunderstruck, wordless in a very un-Gerry-like way. Because the news had changed how she saw Meg?

‘His proposal was in the sense of he’d like to marry me, but only if the worst had happened. Something like that. Well?’

Gerry could have been the poster for stunned mullet, she was so quiet.

‘Talk to me. Tell me I haven’t done anything wrong.’

Shaking her head, Gerry blinked. ‘I’ve always said Doc is a decent man, but that is some proposal. You’re engaged to another man and having his baby and Doc was still able to propose and make it seem—special.’

‘You don’t think I’m to blame?’

‘Not at all, sweet Maggie. You’ve behaved like a paragon. So has Doc, but wow! —that is some attraction he has for you.’

‘It should feel all kinds of wrong, but it doesn’t. It just feels—nice.’

‘He loves you. I told you he’d fallen for you.’

‘Actually, he said he has feelings for me—maybe not love yet, but he respects me and, what’s really important to me, he would be fine with me continuing to work if we were to marry. It came as a shock.’

‘What answer did you give him?’

‘I thanked him and said I couldn’t think beyond waiting to hear from Seamus. He was—accepting of that. Gerry, can I ask you something?’

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