“Damn! I knew I forgot to tell Evans something. The Chaplain’s going with you people. They’re having a meeting at Arunga and he’s already on orders. Does Evans know?”
“Yes, he heard about it.”
“Grapevine,” the Captain muttered. “I’m going as far as the Post Exchange. You want out there?”
“That’ll be fine.”
The Captain drove deliberately and in silence over the road. After a few minutes he stopped in front of a long low building and they both got out. They walked into the Post Exchange.
“You getting on all right with Evans?” the Captain asked.
“Sure, we’re coming along fine,” Martin said, trying to sound sincere and succeeding.
“That’s the way things should be. I’m glad to hear it.”
The Post Exchange was not yet crowded. A long counter ran the length of the building and behind the counter there were shelves of candy, stationery, toilet articles, magazines.... At one end of the building was a barber’s chair and a soldier barber, and at the other end was a Coca-Cola machine. Everything was neatly arranged beneath hard bare electric lights.
Martin bought a lurid Love magazine. Nothing else caught his eye and he left.