* *
*
The Celebration Ball took place the following Saturday in neighbouring St. Hilda
’
s community hall.
During the week Margaret and Jessa were sent for by Matron Martha. Not a little nervously they
descended
the stairs. To Jessa it meant racking her brain to discover which of her many sins had been again found out. To Margaret it meant racking her brain as to what possibly she could have done.
“
Report cars... signing on and off... punctual arrival ...
”
Meg pondered, but Jessa shrugged and dismissed,
“
Just Chid Number Seventy-seven for me, my pet.
”
But it was neither Chid Number Seventy-seven for Jessa nor Chid Number One for Meg.
“
It
’
s about the Celebration Ball,
”
said Matron Martha briskly.
“
I
w
ant you two girls to undertake the decorations and such. You are sufficiently advanced in your career now not to need that first important continuity of training, yet not sufficiently advanced at the same time to be a serious loss to the wards.
”
“
In other words, we
’
re expendable,
”
grinned Jessa.
Matron Martha gave her a severe look.
“
You are excused Friday evening and Saturday morning,
”
she resumed.
“
Sister Helen will show you where we keep the decorations. They may be a trifle bedraggled, but don
’
t let that give you the idea that you may buy more. This function is to raise money, not spend it.
“
Very well, nurses, that is all.
”
The decorations, unearthed by Sister, certainly had seen better days.
Jessa looked disconsolately at Meg, but Meg looked happily back.
“
I
’
ve got it.
”
“
What?
”
“
Barry.
”
“
We can
’
t decorate with him.
”
“
We can decorate with what he can fetch us from Crescent, Jess. Those umbrella tree fronds would look colossal, so would frangipani, and those red berries you throw in the crater. Perhaps, too, Vanda might lend some of her lanterns to us.
”
“
It
’
s a good idea,
”
agreed Jessa slowly,
“
but
—”
“
But what?
”
“
We
’
d have to ask Barry to the Ball if we did that.
”
“
But of course.
”
Meg flicked dust off a tattered festoon.
“
Weren
’
t you asking him?
”
Jessa said, rather to her surprise,
“
Were
you?
”
Neither answered each other. They got on to the job of planning the adorning of St. Hilda
’
s community hall. Barry, contacted, agreed to fetch along all he could on his next trip, and to fetch himself along on the night.
“
Good old Ba,
”
said Jessa.
Margaret said,
“
Yes.
”
Between balloons, lanterns, paper streamers, festoons, masses of frangipani and hibiscus the girls made a fair effort of the hall, and found time as well to shop for new frocks.
Jessa had not thought of this until Margaret had announced her intention of buying the loveliest gown her money would permit.
,
“
But it
’
s only a hospital hop.
”
“
Not quite—Matron will be there, the doctors, a lot of V-I.P.
’
s, and
—”
“
And?
”
Margaret hesitated. She looked at Jessa uncertainly—it could have also been shyly, thought Jess.
“
And—well—Professor Gink,
”
she offered.
Just as Margaret had murmured when Jessa had commended,
“
Good old Ba,
”
Jessa murmured also,
“
Yes.
”
They went shopping together. Margaret chose a lilac ballerina dress with silver ribbons. It was, thought Jessa with delight, Meg
’
s very colour and Meg
’
s very dress.
She found herself oddly rebellious when it came to her choice. Against her own better judgment, the advice of the saleswoman and the pleas of Meg, she decided on a flame
-
red, rather
décolleté
gown.
“
But, Jessa
—”
“
If you will allow me to advise you, Madame
—”
“
I
’
ll take this one,
”
determined Jess.
She was sorry on the night, but it was too late then, as apart from winter skirts and jumpers she had only a small collection of casual cottons and the
’
ballerina dress she had taken to Curry Bulla, not having fetched across her social wardrobe as yet. Both she and Meg had been far too busy and serious to think of including clothes for festive affairs.
She scurried all the way from Belinda to Hilda, envying Meg, who had wisely spent some of her money on a lacy
-
knit shawl so that she could proceed with Ba at a more graceful pace. The night, spitefully, had turned out quite chill, so in her
décolleté
gown Jess simply had to run to get warm.
When she arrived she waited at the door for the others. Matron Martha was there to welcome the V.I.P.S. She was in her black lace. It was a good covering lace, too. She looked frostily on the cold Jessa, seemed about to say something, then stopped herself.
“
The decorations, Nurse,
”
she said instead,
“
are nice.
”
Never, thought Jess miserably, has commendation sounded more like a chid.
Meg and Ba arrived, and the three of them entered the hall. It was quite pretty with the lights on, but Jessa by now was thoroughly miserable. She snatched a glance at herself in a mirror and thought unhappily that she had never shopped more unwisely,
Then her misery was deepening, for beside her in the mirror was someone she had seen, yet never seen before. He was brushed, he was dusted, he was without his spectacles, his hair was smooth and glossy, and, oh, he looked beautiful in his immaculate white tie and tails.
“
Good evening,
”
he said.
Jessa said,
“
Good evening, Professor Gink.
”
The music was starting. The Professor said,
“
We
’
ll be in the way here—would you—I mean will we dance?
”
“
Yes,
”
said Jessa.
He danced quite well, quite passably. It was amazing. She had not known what she had expected of those daddy
-
long-legs legs.
“
You look very elegant tonight, Nurse.
”
“
Thank you.
”
“
But not, I might say, like
you.
”
“
I
’
m not me—I mean
“
“
Yes, what do you mean?
”
“
I chose it, and I don
’
t know why,
”
blurted Jessa.
“
You see, I was in that sort of mood.
”
“
What sort of mood? I
’
m a gynaecologist and a pediatrician, not a psychologist.
”
“
In a what-does-it-matter mood.
”
“
What gave you that?
”
“
I don
’
t know.
”
“
Do you suffer often in this way?
”
“
Not often, but—but more of late, I find.
”
“
To what do you account this failing?
”
Jessa said again,
“
I don
’
t know. I only wish I hadn
’
t bought it. The dress, I mean. Matron froze me, too, as though I wasn
’
t already cold enough.
”
Professor Gink said with quick concern,
“
Are you cold? It is not actually a very cold evening. Do you feel you
’
re getting a cold? The two are synonymous, you know.
”
“
I just feel,
”
admitted Jessa ruefully,
“
that I deserve to be spanked.
”
“
I
’
ve felt that often, Nurse,
”
nodded the Professor sympathetically.
“
You get disgusted with yourself, too?
”
“
You misunderstand me. I also have felt that spanking feeling about you.
”
“
Oh,
”
said Jessa.
They were parted because the waltz changed into a progressive barn dance. When they came together again he asked,
“
Still cold?
”
“
Yes—a little under the dancing heat somehow. It
’
s quite
odd.
”
He frowned, so she diverted hurriedly,
“
You look very nice tonight. Brushed and dusted.
”
She drew in her breath at what she had said.
He grinned back boyishly.
“
Generally look like a junk store, don
’
t I? I don
’
t know what happens. I start off with good clothes, at least so say my bills.
”
“
You need someone to look after you,
”
she said unthinking.
“
Applying for the position?
”
His eyes had narrowed. There was teasing in them—but
there was something else as well.
What was it? Her next partner swept her away.
Barry claimed her.
“
You don
’
t look so hot this evening, Jessa-my-Jess.
”
“
Well, I feel it. I feel both hot
and
cold.
”
“
I meant that you didn
’
t look so well.
”
“
It
’
s this dress, it
’
s not my dress.
”
“
Whose, then?
”
grinned Ba infuriatingly.
“
It
’
s certainly
”—
his eyes sought and followed Margaret
—“
not Meg
’
s. Just not her sort.
”
“
I mean
—”
began Jessa, but she was whirled away again.
Before she could meet up with Professor Gink a third time the music stopped.
That was the only dance she had with the Professor, with
Ba, with anyone. By the time the orchestra struck up once more she only wanted to shrink down behind an umbrella fern and go hot and cold in turns and drink copious lemonade. Oh, no, she protested to herself, not
flu.