Page 20 of A Suitable Countess (To All the Earls I’ve Loved Before #3)

He grunted, a sound she took as assent as they staggered along the road, skirting debris and running soldiers.

Everywhere was noise and chaos and horror.

Sweat ran down her face, but Meg couldn’t risk relaxing her hold on Private Jackson to wipe it off.

Black particles settled into the sweat on Jackson’s face. Hers probably looked as black.

‘Get down.’ As she turned, a soldier ran towards her, and the command rang loud and urgent again. ‘Get. Down.’

She glanced up. Lines of bombs were falling out near the edge of town. Lines of bombs from neat formations of planes.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she obeyed the order without question.

Dropping to her knees she dragged the private down with her. The lad passed out and Meg lifted her head. A thunderous roar deafened her as wave after wave of planes flew over the town. Bombs whistled as they fell then cracked and crumped as they exploded.

Dark mosquito shapes. A ragged line of bombs raining on the street ahead of them.

She flung herself over the wounded soldier, shielding him with her body.

Dirt rained on them, and she pressed her face into his good shoulder, one hand instinctively covering her helmet even while she tried to protect his wound.

The patter and thud of chunks of dirt subsided and she raised her head.

The soldier who had told her to get down kneeled in front of her, his hand extended to help her up. ‘Sister, you’ve got to get out of here now.’

Meg looked up. The voice belonged to an Aussie sergeant who reached for her elbow and dragged her to her feet. Blood ran down his cheek from a wound above his right eye.

‘I can’t leave him. He’s badly burnt.’

‘Bring your patient this way.’

‘He’s out cold.’

‘Damn it.’ The sergeant knelt beside the private then hefted him onto his shoulders. ‘They’re loading trucks and evacuating the wounded.’

‘But I am essential. I’m a nurse and—’

‘Move, Sister. They’ll need you. Around the next corner.’

Her ears ringing, Meg moved in response to the commanding tone. ‘I should get him to the hospital . . .’

‘Hospital’s on fire. Do what you can for him once you’re out of here.’ The sergeant’s words bounced raggedly as he jogged towards the corner.

A battered truck with wooden slats along the sides and no roof, was parked near the rear gates of the hospital. Benches filled with wounded servicemen lined both sides.

Examining the crammed vehicle, Meg shook her head. ‘There’s no room on this one.’

‘You’ll fit. We can squeeze you both in.’

Meg looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. Sister Patricia Carey, who had been on the shift that relieved Meg’s three hours earlier, gestured for her to climb aboard. ‘Hurry up, Meg.’ Pat squeezed past the legs of a couple of patients and held out a hand.

Meg grabbed Pat’s hand and scrambled up onto the flat bed, dangling her legs over the tailgate. It was precarious, but there wasn’t another inch of space to shuffle into.

The sergeant put the injured private beside her then shouted to the driver. ‘That’s it. Go.’

Meg eased Private Jackson’s good shoulder and head onto her lap as the truck bounced into a pothole—or was it a bomb hole? He groaned as the truck bumped and ground along the road south. Covering his wound as well as she could, Meg looked back at the city.

Dust spewed up behind the truck, almost obliterating the dirt road. Smoke filled the sky and several thick black columns rose from the harbour. How many ships had been hit? How many sunk? Her heart ached at the thought of the men on those ships. Had any sailors escaped?

Pat slid down against Meg’s back. ‘Okay there? What happened to you?’

‘I’m fine, aside from being tipped out of my bed. The hotel was hit, but I made it downstairs to the street. Someone called me to help this chap. What’s happened, do you know?’

‘Tom said the Japs might try to invade us at the Top End. Looks like he was right.’

‘Tom, your brother?’ The truck lurched around a bend past the road to the racecourse. Dirt spooled out as they headed south, leaving the town behind. The heavy choking smoke thinned.

‘Yes. He’s on the HMAS Kookaburra. I heard there was a wave of planes hit the harbour and the big guns first. Once those were out of action, they started bombing the town. My guess is the airport was probably hit, or will be.’

‘The Post Office has gone, and it looked like the telegraph wires are down. No one will know what’s happening up here.

’ Meg went quiet. Her head ached, her eyes were gritty, and hunger pangs hit hard.

Exhausted after twenty hours on the ward, she’d fallen asleep without eating.

But likely she wouldn’t be able to keep any food down.

Not after the shock of waking to a world on fire. Her stomach disagreed.

A wooden signpost pointed the way to Mt Isa and Alice Springs, and Brisbane, impossibly far away.

The truck slowed with a squeal of brakes and a soldier jumped out from the cab.

He knocked the sign names from the post with the butt of his rifle, collected them in his arms and returned to the cab.

With a wheezing groan, the truck rolled slowly onwards.

‘Any idea where we’re going?’ They bounced in and out of a depression in the road.

Pat knocked Meg’s shoulder and grimaced. ‘Right now? Frankly, I don’t care so long as it’s as far away from here as we can get.’

‘Thank goodness most of the civilian population were sent away when the government decided to station our armed forces up here.’

Pat said nothing for several moments, but she leaned across Meg’s shoulder and gently checked Private Jackson’s wound.

‘That’s one of the things I like about you, Meg.

Even in the direst circumstances, you find something to be grateful for.

’ A soldier out of Meg’s sight called, ‘Sister, can you check my mate?’ She squeezed Meg’s shoulder before rising and clambering between soldiers seated on the floor between the narrow benches.

Rocking and bouncing on the back of the truck, Meg felt oddly detached from events. Praying this was just a nightmare brought on by too little sleep, her eyelids lowered, and her head bent. The angle made her neck ache, but she was too tired to lift her head . . .

A hand gripped her shoulder and shook her. ‘Whoa there, Sister, don’t nod off or you’ll fall out and wake up in the middle of the track.’

Blinking and wishing the cheery voice with a hint of an Irish accent hadn’t dragged her from the arms of Morpheus, Meg turned to see who had saved her from tumbling into the road.

A cheeky grin slashed white across a corporal’s dirt-streaked face.

She raised her gaze to a pair of blue eyes, bright beneath a bandage and intense as the summer sky.

‘Thanks for the save.’

‘Can’t let the prettiest nurse this side of the Black Stump get lost, can I.’

From somewhere behind, Pat raised her voice. ‘Corporal Flanagan, I’m not sure whether to tell you off for being cheeky to Sister Dorset, or take umbrage that you ignored me, who’s put up with your shenanigans through all the hours of night and day.’

Flanagan’s grin grew wider. Ah, but you’re the prettiest head nurse, Sister.’

‘And you’re a rascal I should have discharged this morning.’

‘Maybe you’ll be glad to have an able-bodied man around.’

Flanagan’s sling and bandaged head belied his comment, but his cheery, cheeky flirting made the terrible morning bearable. And when he reached awkwardly into his breast pocket and drew out a small open packet of chocolate and offered it to Meg, she was glad he was aboard their transport.

‘I shouldn’t take your rations but thank you.’

‘Sister, I’ll be offended if you turn down my gift. Besides, I got a wonderful night’s sleep thanks to you.’ He winked, making sure she took no offence.

Her stomach growled and her mouth watered at the scent of chocolate currently wafting beneath her nose.

Flanagan held it close and gave her a small nod.

Reluctantly, but unable to keep from refusing his offer, she took the packet and broke off a single piece, offered a quiet ‘Thanks’ and popped it into her mouth.

Closing her eyes, she let the chocolate melt on her tongue.

A swiftly indrawn breath nearby forced her eyes to open.

‘What is it? Danger?’ She scanned the skies over Darwin and the surrounding bush before looking for an explanation from the corporal.

Flanagan’s gaze was fixed on her. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he gave her a lop-sided smile. ‘I haven’t seen anyone enjoy chocolate more, Sister.’

‘It’s the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.’ She held out his precious bar of chocolate. ‘Thanks.’

‘Keep it.’

‘But—’

‘I’m watching my weight.’ He winked, and, in spite of the carnage they’d left behind, Meg’s day brightened.

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