'I think you ought to take some leave yourself,' she said. 'Could you come out to Harkaway for a bit?'
He thought for a moment. 'That's mighty nice of you. I couldn't do that for a while. We're putting Scorpion into dry dock tomorrow.'
'Let Peter Holmes do that for you.'
'I couldn't do that, honey. Uncle Sam wouldn't like it.'
She forebore to say that Uncle Sam would never know. 'After you've done that, the ship'll be in dockyard hands, won't she?'
'Say, you know a lot about the navy.'
'I know I do. I'm a beautiful spy, Mata Hari, femme fatale, worming secrets out of innocent naval officers over a double brandy. She will be in dockyard hands, won't she?'
'You're very right.'
'Well then, you can chuck everything else on Peter Holmes and get away on leave. What time are you putting her in dock?'
'Ten o'clock tomorrow morning. We'll probably be through by midday.'
'Come out and spend a little time at Haraway with us, tomorrow afternoon. It's perishing cold up there. The wind just whistles round the house. It rains most of the time, and you can't go out without gumboots. Walking beside the bullock and the pasture harrows is the coldest job known to man-to woman, anyway. Come out and try it. After a few days with us you'll be just longing to get back and fug it in your submarine.'
He laughed. 'Say, you're making it sound really attractive.'
'I know I am. Will you come out tomorrow afternoon?'
It would be a relief to relax, to forget his burdens for a day or two. 'I think I could,' he said. 'I'll have to shuffle things around a little, but I think I could.'
She arranged to meet him the next afternoon at four o'clock in the Australia Hotel. When she did so she was concerned at his appearance; he greeted her cheerfully and seemed glad to see her, but he had gone a yellowish colour beneath his tan, and in unguarded moments he was depressed. She frowned at the sight of him. 'You're looking like something that the cat brought in and didn't want,' she told him. 'Are you all right?' She took his hand and felt it. 'You're hot. You've got a temperature!'
He withdrew his hand. 'I'm okay,' he said 'What'll you have to drink?'
'You'll have a double whisky and about twenty grams of quinine,' she said. 'A double whisky, anyway. I'll see about the quinine when we get home. You ought to be in bed!'
It was pleasant to be fussed over, and relax. 'Double brandy for you?' he asked.
'Small one for me, double for you,' she said. 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself, going about like this. You're probably spreading germs all over the place. Have you seen a doctor?'
He ordered the drinks. 'There's no doctor in the dockyard now. Scorpion is the only ship that's operational, and she's in dockyard hands. They took the last naval surgeon away while we were on the cruise.'
'You have got a temperature, haven't you?'
'I might have just a little one,' he said. 'Perhaps I might have a cold coming on.'
'I'd say perhaps you might. Drink up that whisky while I telephone Daddy.'
'What for?'
'To meet us with the buggy at the station. I told them we'd walk up the hill, but I'm not going to have you doing that. You might die on my hands, and then I'd have a job explaining to the coroner. It might even make a diplomatic incident.'
'Who with honey?'
'The United States. It's not so good to kill the Supreme Commander of the U.S. Naval Forces.'
He said wearily, 'I guess the United States is me, right now. I'm thinking of running for President.'
'Well, think about it while I go and telephone Mummy.'
In the little telephone booth, she said, 'I think he's got flu, Mummy. He's frightfully tired, for one thing. He'll have to go to bed directly we get home. Could you light a fire in his room, and put a hot-water bag in the bed? And, Mummy, ring up Dr. Fletcher and ask if he could possibly come round this evening. I shouldn't think it's anything but flu, but he has been in the radioactive area for over a month, and he hasn't seen a doctor since he got back. Tell Dr. Fletcher who he is. He's rather an important person now, you know.'
'What train will you be catching, dear?'
She glanced at her wrist. 'We'll catch the four-forty. Look, Mummy, it's going to be perishing cold in the buggy. Ask Daddy to bring down a couple of rugs.'
She went back to the bar.
'Drink up and come along,' she said. 'We've got to catch the four-forty.'
He went with her obediently. A couple of hours later he was in a bedroom with a blazing log fire, creeping into a warm bed as he shook with a light fever. He lay there infinitely grateful while the shakes subsided, glad to relax and lie staring at the ceiling, listening to the patter of the rain outside. Presently his grazier host brought him a hot whisky and lemon and asked what he wanted to eat, which was nothing.
At about eight o'clock there was the sound of a horse outside, and voices in the rain. Presently the doctor came to him; he had discarded his wet coat, but his jodhpurs and riding boots were dark with rain and steamed a little as he stood by the fire. He was a man of about thirty-five or forty, cheerful and competent.
'Say, Doctor,' said the patient, 'I'm really sorry they brought you out here on a night like this. There's not a thing wrong with me that a day or two in bed won't cure.'
The doctor smiled. 'I'm glad to come out to meet you,' he said. He took the American's wrist and felt the pulse. 'I understand you've been up in the radioactive area.'
'Why, yes. But we didn't get exposed.'
'You were inside the hull of the submarine all the time?'
'All the time. We had a guy from the C.S.I.R.O. poking Geiger counters at us every day. It's not that doctor.'
'Have you had any vomiting, or diarrhoea?'
'None at all. Nor did any of the ship's company.'
The doctor put a thermometer into his mouth, and stood feeling his pulse. Presently he withdrew the thermometer. 'A hundred and two,' he said. 'You'd better stay in bed for a bit. How long were you at sea?'
'Fifty-three days.'
'And how long submerged?'
'More than half of it.'
'Are you very tired?'
The captain thought for a moment. 'I might be,' he admitted.
'I should say you might. You'd better stay in bed till that temperature goes down, and one full day after that. I'll look in and see you again in a couple of days' time. I think you've only got a dose of flu-there's quite a lot of it about. You'd better not go back to work for at least a week after you get up, and then you ought to take some leave. Can you do that?'
'I'll have to think about it.'
They talked a little of the cruise and of conditions at Seattle and in Queensland. Finally the doctor said, 'I'll probably look in tomorrow afternoon with one or two things you'd better take. I've got to go to Dandenong; my partner's operating at the hospital and I'm giving the anaesthetic for him. I'll pick up the stuff there and look in on my way home.'
'Is it a serious operation?'
'Not too bad. Woman with a growth upon the stomach. She'll be better with it out. Give her a few more years of useful life, anyway.'
He went away, and outside the window Dwight heard the backing and curvetting of the horse as the rider got into the saddle, and heard the doctor swear. Then he listened to the diminuendo of the hoofs as they trotted away down the drive in the heavy rain. Presently his door opened, and the girl came in.
'Well,' she said, 'you've got to stay in bed tomorrow, anyway.' She moved to the fire and threw a couple of logs on. 'He's nice, isn't he?'
'He's nuts,' said the commander.
'Why? Because he's making you stay in bed?'
