don’t think I’d like to come alone. Do we go to dinner tonight?’
‘Rather—we sit at different tables and help the conversation, though no one needs any help after the first day. Have you got something pretty to wear? Tomorrow we’ll be in uniform—perhaps sooner if anyone’s ill tonight.’
Octavia turned to look at her. ‘You’re a cheerful little thing, aren’t you? The weather’s lovely. I shouldn’t think anyone would realise that we’re moving, let alone bobbing up and down, and surely they’re all too interested to think about being ill.’
‘Well, yes,’ Mary agreed, ‘I’ve never known anyone be ill on the first night. Look, there’s the boss coming up the gangway. He’s very handsome, isn’t he? Our Joan’s going to get some stiff competition.’ Mary giggled. ‘I say, why don’t you cut her out? You’re ever so pretty, Octavia. I bet you could if you tried.’
Octavia turned away from the rail. ‘I’m not in the least interested in him,’ she declared briskly, and knew as she said it that there was no truth in the remark.
The first few days slid away. There wasn’t much to do; a sprained ankle, a few cases of seasickness, brought on, Octavia considered, by apprehension, a handful of cuts and bruises, and that was all. The weather, now that they had rounded Cape St Vincent, was glorious and very warm; there would be several cases of sunburn later. In the meantime, the three of them took their free time during the day and slept without interruption each night. Octavia had acquired a light tan which set off her white uniform very nicely and made her prettier than ever. She was popular at her table in the restaurant too, and much in demand for dancing in the evening when she was off duty. If she had been a passenger and not a ship’s nurse, she could have had a simply splendid time. As it was, she was pleasant to everyone without making any attempt to become especially friendly, indeed her behaviour was exemplary so that Sister Wise had no fault to find with her, and Mary, spending as much of her free time with Colin as she could, wanted to know anxiously if Octavia was enjoying herself. And Doctor van der Weijnen, presiding over the small morning surgery, lifted his head from the papers on his desk long enough to enquire if she had settled in nicely. She assured him in a cool voice that she had and was surprised when he went on: ‘I haven’t seen you dancing a great deal—perhaps you don’t enjoy it?’
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