She checked the temperature of each crib, checked the room temperature, then set about showing the nurses how to prepare in advance the daily requirements of food.
When she looked up again the doctors and matron and Professor were gone. The nurse she was instructing said wistfully,
“
I suppose by now the wires are running hot. They were only holding back the news until you and the Professor arrived, Sister. It
’
s been terribly hard not shouting it out at once. There
’
s an awfully nice reporter out there; I
’
d have loved to have seen his face when he learned.
”
“
You
’
ll see him,
”
cheered Jessa.
“
They
’
re sure to stop around for some pictures, even if it
’
s a picture of a pretty nurse.
”
She smiled at the girl.
“
Now come here while I demonstrate the essentials of an oil and lanolin bath.
”
When Jessa went along much later for supper, the evening had fulfilled her expectations and become gratifyingly chill. Especially on the verandah where the buffet was set.
She held her head proudly in its snow-white veil and walked like something charmed in her scarlet cape.
All the medical staff and visiting honoraries not required to be attendant on the patients were drinking coffee and eating sandwiches. Jessa found herself being introduced to important people whose names she had only read or heard of before. But the most important of all, she realized proudly, watching him being referred to here, questioned respectfully there, was her Professor Gink.
Hers?...No, Belinda
’
s, of course, but up here she represented Belinda, so she could call him, just for a little while anyway,
my
Professor Gink.
She leaned against the verandah post, thinking of all the exciting things that had happened today. Happened since this afternoon really... this morning she had been merely bathing the Beresford baby and coping with Nurse Gwen. She smiled impishly. Wouldn
’
t Nurse Gwen stare if she could look at her now!
But someone was looking at her
actually,
not just in her thoughts. She felt it rather than saw it. She turned.
He had come to the edge of the verandah to stand beside her.
“
You awe me, Sister,
”
said Professor Gink.
Jessa straightened her veil, adjusted her cape.
“
I believe I awe myself. Do you like it?
”
“
I like you as little Jess.
”
It sounded little Jess, the same as it had sounded little Jess on the plane, but it couldn
’
t be, of course, it must be
Nurse
Jess. Nurse Jess made sense.
“
We can
’
t stop humble always,
”
she told him practically.
“
We must progress.
”
“
No,
”
he agreed, but without enthusiasm. He looked at the sky.
“
Nice moon.
”
The moon made her think at once of what she had planned for him and Margaret... a gold moon, silver stars, the scent of jessamine. But now it was being participated by Meggy and Ba.
“
Anything wrong?
”
he asked.
“
I was thinking of Crescent Island,
”
she returned quietly.
“
Margaret—Nurse Margaret went there.
”
As quietly he said,
“
With your pilot, Mr. Burns.
”
“
Yes.
”
Someone came over with more coffee and sandwiches. When they had gone he said,
“
Why are you frowning, Sister? Does that displease you?
”
She looked at him in enquiry, though she knew what he meant.
“
Your fellow nurse and your—friend visiting your home together.
”
She was surprised at his perception and stammered,
“
Why of course not,
”
knowing it must sound quite the opposite by the way she spoke, but how could she explain,
“
Yes, it
does
displease me, because, dear dedicated Professor, I was reserving Crescent Island
’
s moon for dear dedicated Margaret and
you,
not him
”
?
He was looking at her closely, searchingly, seeming about to tell her something.
More sandwiches arrived, and after that it was time to check on the nursery again, give the reliefs their instruction, go to bed.
She was on once more at seven and went straight to the babies. Again the Professor had beaten her to it. He worked professionally and rather remotely and had nothing at all to say.
That evening the press were allowed to take photos. To Jessa
’
s little nurse
’
s gratification the nice reporter took hers.
Jessa visited Mrs. Winthrop and was introduced to Mr. Winthrop.
“
We
’
re including yours and the Professor
’
s among our four names for our quads, Sister,
”
Mr. Winthrop told her eagerly.
“
We feel we owe a whole lot to you. The other two names will be my wife
’
s and my own.
”
Jessa, thinking of the
“
piece of cake
”
it had all turned out, and not so sure that it had been such a lot on hers and the Professor
’
s part, warned him,
“
What if you don
’
t like my name?
”
“
Is it Ermyntrude?
”
“
It
’
s Jessamine.
”
“
That
’
s fine, I like it a lot. That makes Nancy, Jessamine, Barry, Peter.
”
Barry...She had never considered B for Barry somehow. She had thought of Bertrand, Boris, Benedict, but never Barry Gink.
She remembered those notes of his concerning his spectacles.
“
As beautiful as an appendicostomy. My thanks, B. G.
”—“
My second pair call also for operation. Yours, B. G.
”
So he was Professor Barry Gink.
The day went quickly. She found time to slip into her gay cotton and go down to the little main street to buy a gift for her quad namesake. There she met the nice reporter, who bought her a soda and sent a message to the nurse.
There was a more formal supper that evening. Jessa wore the ballerina silk. She did not see the Professor, however. She felt absurdly disappointed. Apart from their trip up to Curry Bulla he had only ever encountered her in a starched pinafore. Somehow she would have liked him to have seen her like this, if only to—to—well, to know she would make a nice bridesmaid for Margaret one day. That was her only reason, of course.
Then she learned that the Professor had departed, in the quiet way he always departed, and for some reason she felt more deflated still.
“
He was so satisfied with everything, he saw no reason in stopping,
”
said the matron. She added a little eagerly, and Jessa did not blame her for everyone likes to be a queen in their own palace,
“
And I don
’
t think we need detain
you
longer, my dear.
”
Jessa delivered her present to little Jessamine the next morning, said goodbye to her sister Nancy, brothers Barry and Peter, wondering what titles the Belinda girls would have given them instead, then took the hospital car back to the air-strip and the Sydney-bound plane.
It was an even trip, but a dull one... a very dull one.
And that comes, Jessa thought determinedly, putting all other ideas on the subject right out of her mind, of leaving as a sister and returning as a nurse. Demotion is always a difficult thing.
She thought about the trip up, later on the hospital verandah, when she had almost believed it was
little
Jess the Professor had said, not Nurse Jess.
Then she remembered something else she had tucked away in her mind for consideration... what was it now? She frowned and recalled.
She recalled that earnest,
“
Two jiffies
... but surely you
’
re wrong
... already it has taken me a thousand years
...
A thousand years, she asked curiously of herself, to kiss whom ... or for whose kiss? And had he been only laughing at her?
When she reached Sydney her spirits soared again. She hailed a taxi to be at Belinda the sooner to tell Margaret about her two enthralling days.
She told her mother and father that evening long after she had told Margaret. The telling to Meg had taken many exhaustive hours.
She told it to them in a letter that was to have been filled with details, but in the finish, through sheer weariness, covered all and everything with a rapturously brief but comprehensive:
“
Darlings,
darlings,
on Wednesday I underwent my first multiple birth.
”
CHAPTER XIII
MATRON lost no time in packing Jessa home for her seasonal leave, so that what had
been left out of the written lett
er was soon being conveyed by the spoken word.
In fact Mrs. Barlow thought her daughter would never stop.
“
I only hope, Jessamine, you never have quins,
”
she commented feelingly.
“
But Mummy, it would be wonderful.
”
“
You
’
ve been telling me so and nothing else for fully two hours. Do you realize you haven
’
t once asked about the hotel?
”
Jessa gave her a squeeze.
“
It
’
s booming. My eyes saw so at once—and besides, Margaret told me.
”
“
Yes
...
Margaret
...” Mrs.
Barlow looked shrewdly at Jessa.
“
Darling, do you
...
I mean
...
well—
”
It was no use. Mrs. Barlow did not know what she wanted to say or how to say it when she finally got round to it.
“
Margaret enjoyed herself,
”
she said lamely instead.
“
Mummy, that
’
s an understatement,
”
smiled Jessa happily.
“
She
’
s simply sold on Crescent. Mummy, when is the infant convention? I want Meggy to be here again then
.
.
. Margaret South and Professor Gink.
”
“
Margaret?
”
echoed Mrs. Barlow, rather startled.
“
Margaret and—
”
She paused, then tried a second time.
“
Darling
...
I mean
...
well
—”
Once more it was no use. She
simply had no words.
“
You see,
”
her daughter was babbling,
“
Margaret
’
s a very dedicated person and just the type for dedicated Professor Gink.
”
This time Mrs. Barlow did find words.
“
Perhaps, but not in this hotel, Jessa,
”
she said sternly.
“
I simply won
’
t have you scheming things here.
”
“
It has to be here.
”
“
And why?
”
“
Because
—”
Jessa thought quickly a moment—
“
well, because of the picaninnies, Mummy.
”
She brought it out triumphantly.
“
They
’
d both be extremely interested in the babies
’
welfare, both being such very dedicated types.
”
Something disapproving in her mother
’
s face had decided her not to mention the Crescent Island setting she had really prescribed for Margaret and the Professor, that romantic setting of golden moon, silver stars and scent of jessamine.
Mrs. Barlow said, unimpressed,
“
And what about you, aren
’
t you dedicated as well? I think you gave up as much as Margaret when you went on to Belinda, Jessamine.
”
Jessa hunched her shoulders.
“
I try, but I make lots of mistakes, get oceans of chids. I
’
m very ordinary, Mums. Don
’
t forget my Average Only. Meggy is entirely different, you see.
”
Mrs. Barlow did see. She saw something that undoubtedly Jessamine had not wakened to yet. She hesitated, then again did not speak.
Very casually she asked,
“
Did you fly over with Barry?
”
“
No, he
’
s on stand-down, and he
’
s having it in Sydney.
Rather unusual for him.
”
Jessa shrugged, then added,
“
I must say the Tourist Bureau are doing things very nicely there—in the plane, I mean. Cushiony seats, hostess in a green uniform, and the loveliest tea. I had wafer cucumber sandwiches and a chocolate
éclair
. But
”
—with a sympathetic sigh—
“
it will make it all the harder for old
Matthew Flinders.
”
“
How can it make it harder when the plane
’
s run is now finished?
”
asked Mrs. Barlow.
“
It will make it harder when Barry comes back on the, run. And Ba believes he will. He believes Crescent is simply undergoing a temporary boom and that one day soon the tourist trade will collapse and the island become the old island again. What do you think, Mums? And do you like the Jessamine this way or not?
”
Mrs. Barlow sighed.
“
I wouldn
’
t be human if I wasn
’
t entertained,
”
she admitted.
“
It
’
s really a different world these days. But I
’
m afraid it will pall in time. It has on Father already. He
’
d give anything for his old island trading inn once more.
”
“
Perhaps he
’
ll have it Barry says Lopi looks very disapproving.
”
“
Barry is being wishful.
”
Mrs. Barlow glanced at Jessa.
“
He
’
s being wishful in several ways,
”
she intimated carefully.
“
Yes, Lopi and
Matthew Flinders
”
agreed Jessa carelessly,
“
poor old Ba!
”
“
Is that how you really feel, Jessa, just
‘
poor old Ba
’
?
”
asked Mrs. Barlow, vastly relieved.
“
Mummy, what are you talking about? You
’
re being odd.
”
“
Yes, aren
’
t I! It
’
s this mad new life,
”
Mrs. Barlow agreed, cheered. She had noticed Margaret and Ba
...
one simply could not help noticing them... although Jessa had never encouraged the islander one could never be sure how girls felt in their hearts. She didn
’
t want her daughter to be hurt.
The hotel was certainly a different place. Instead of the cosy outsized clam shell Jessa somehow had always thought it, it now looked like a cool white star.
That was because of the new wings that were to be erected, she supposed. They would come out at five points. Each point would have its own cool terrace with cane
lounges and bucket chairs and Hollywoodian furniture. Yes, then it would be a star.
Meanwhile, there always seemed music in the air, either from the orchestra or from some guitarist strumming on the lawn.
“
It
’
s not quite like this during the conventions,
”
Mrs. Barlow understated with a wistful sigh.
“
You
don
’
t
like it,
”
pounced Jessamine.
“
Well—do
you}
”
Jessa remembered Benjamin who had gone beach pottering around the inn, and Keefi who had gone with him concocting coconut milk pudding from real coconuts, not from a packet like the coconut sweet at luncheon, she remembered the white sands without a single striped umbrella.
“
No, I don
’
t,
”
she sighed.
Her father did not try to conceal his nostalgia from her for the old days and the old ways.
“
The copra and conchi traders don
’
t call in now,
”
he told Jessa,
“
and I don
’
t blame them. Imagine anchoring for the night and running bang into a fancy dress ball.
”
“
Is that one of Vanda
’
s schemes?
”
“
Fancy hat night Monday, lantern night Tuesday, amateur talent Wednesday, treasure hunt Thursday. I can
’
t remember the rest of the nights that make up the ten that form the Tourist Bureau
’
s tour, but I do know there
’
s a grand frolic and fancy dress ball.
”
“
But not during conventions,
”
reminded Jessa.
“
They
can
’
t be so bad.
”
Her father shrugged sadly.
“
Perhaps, but look here, pet, what do
I
know of all these things they talk of at conventions? I
’
m an island man, and that
’
s what I understand, tides, seas, elements, copra, conchi, not subjects for, which conventions are formed.
”
“
You had me once, remember, Daddy, so you should be interested, if remotely, in the infant convention.
”
“
In the infant convention—or Professor Gink?
”
asked her father wisely.
“
What do you know of Professor Gink?
”
“
Margaret talked of him.
”
“
Oh ...
”
said Jessa, a little blankly.
“
Also, he is one of the listed names on that same infant convention to be held at this hotel.
”
“
So he
’
s coming.
”
Jessa said it half to herself, half to her father.
“
Yes, but you must have known that,
”
he pointed out.
“
Margaret knew.
”
“
Oh,
”
said Jessa, rather blankly again. Why did she feel oddly empty like this? she wondered curiously.
* *
*
Vanda was not so happy with her new Crescent Island world as she had anticipated.
“
It
’
s fun, but it only lasts ten days,
”
she told Jessa sorrowfully,
“
then another tour begins. Men I mean the
guests are awfully nice while they
’
re here, and when they go they promise to write and all that, but—well, they
don
’
t.
I suppose it
’
s the old rush all over again once they get back to the coast.
“
Besides, there
’
s very few male visitors really. Women just flock to islands.
”
She gave a resentful glance down the road to Roger
’
s little bank office.
“
Men come in the conventions,
”
reminded Jessa.
“
Old stuffy white-haired or bald-headed scholars,
”
rebelled Vanda.
“
Not all of them. I know one, and he
’
s tall and his hair
“
“
Yes?
”