sobbing lady.
‘Button, this is Mrs Barton and she’s crying because she’s had a fright,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘But now she’s going to introduce you to her cat. Caroline, your job is to keep Button happy. Ginny, how are you at heaving bricks?’
‘Fine,’ Ginny said, knowing how desperate Ben was to get to the hospital but knowing they had no choice but to help the hapless Harold.
Ten minutes later they had him uncovered and, miraculously, his injuries were minor.
‘Felt the bloody thing heave so I dived straight into the cavity itself,’ he said. ‘It could’a gone either way, on top of me or around me, so I was bloody lucky.’
He was, Ginny thought as Ben cleaned a gaping gash on his arm and pulled it together with steri-strips. It’d need stitching but stitching had to wait. The important thing to do now was stop the bleeding and move on.
Triage. The hospital. What was happening down in the town?
Bricks had fallen on Harold’s leg as well. ‘There’s possibly a break,’ Ben said, but Harold waved him away.
‘Yeah, and you might be needed for something a bit more major than a possible ankle break. Caroline can put me on the tractor and we’ll make our way down to town in our own good time. With the cat. With this ankle I’m not even going to be able to kick him so there’s not a lot of choice. Get yourself down to those who need you, Doc.’ And then he turned to Ginny. ‘But thank God you came home when you did, girl. When you were a kid we always reckoned you belonged here. Seems we were right. You’ve come home just in time.’
They passed three more houses, with three more groups of frightened islanders. They crammed two women, three kids and two dogs into the back. There was nothing wrong with them except scratches and bruises, but they were all stranded and they wanted, desperately, to be in town with community support.
‘I’m hoping someone’s set up a refuge,’ Ben said tightly to Ginny. ‘I need to be there.’
He couldn’t be there, though. At the next farmhouse they came to, an entire stone barn had collapsed. Once again they found a sobbing woman but there was no humour about this situation. One of the women distracted the kids while the rest grimly heaved stone. The elderly farmer must have been killed instantly.
They left old Donald Martin wrapped in a makeshift shroud, they tucked Flora into the front of the Jeep, and Flora sobbed all the way to the village—and hugged Button.
Button was amazing, Ginny thought. She was medicine all by herself. She even put her arms around this woman she’d never met before and cuddled her and said, ‘Don’t cry, lady, don’t cry,’ whereupon Flora sobbed harder and held her tighter. A normal four-year-old would have backed away in fear but Button just cuddled and held her as Ben pushed the loaded Jeep closer to town.
He was desperate, Ginny thought. The hospital, the whole town was currently without a doctor. It was now almost five hours since the quake. They’d seen a couple of helicopters come in to land and Ben had relaxed a little bit—‘Help must be coming from the mainland.’—but she could still see the tension lines on his face. Why wasn’t he at the hospital?
If he hadn’t been calling in on her... If he hadn’t been bringing Button’s test results...
‘Ben, I’m so sorry,’ she told him from the back seat, and Ben swivelled and gave her a hard stare before going back to concentrate on getting the Jeep across the next paddock.
‘There’s no fault,’ he said grimly. ‘Cut it out, Ginny, because I won’t wear your guilt on top of everything else. I don’t have time for it.’
And that put her in her place.
It was self-indulgent, she conceded, to think of guilt. She was crammed between two buxom women. She had kids draped over her knees.
Ben didn’t have time to think about guilt, she thought, and then they entered the main street and neither did she.
* * *
The first things they saw
‘Button, this is Mrs Barton and she’s crying because she’s had a fright,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘But now she’s going to introduce you to her cat. Caroline, your job is to keep Button happy. Ginny, how are you at heaving bricks?’
‘Fine,’ Ginny said, knowing how desperate Ben was to get to the hospital but knowing they had no choice but to help the hapless Harold.
Ten minutes later they had him uncovered and, miraculously, his injuries were minor.
‘Felt the bloody thing heave so I dived straight into the cavity itself,’ he said. ‘It could’a gone either way, on top of me or around me, so I was bloody lucky.’
He was, Ginny thought as Ben cleaned a gaping gash on his arm and pulled it together with steri-strips. It’d need stitching but stitching had to wait. The important thing to do now was stop the bleeding and move on.
Triage. The hospital. What was happening down in the town?
Bricks had fallen on Harold’s leg as well. ‘There’s possibly a break,’ Ben said, but Harold waved him away.
‘Yeah, and you might be needed for something a bit more major than a possible ankle break. Caroline can put me on the tractor and we’ll make our way down to town in our own good time. With the cat. With this ankle I’m not even going to be able to kick him so there’s not a lot of choice. Get yourself down to those who need you, Doc.’ And then he turned to Ginny. ‘But thank God you came home when you did, girl. When you were a kid we always reckoned you belonged here. Seems we were right. You’ve come home just in time.’
They passed three more houses, with three more groups of frightened islanders. They crammed two women, three kids and two dogs into the back. There was nothing wrong with them except scratches and bruises, but they were all stranded and they wanted, desperately, to be in town with community support.
‘I’m hoping someone’s set up a refuge,’ Ben said tightly to Ginny. ‘I need to be there.’
He couldn’t be there, though. At the next farmhouse they came to, an entire stone barn had collapsed. Once again they found a sobbing woman but there was no humour about this situation. One of the women distracted the kids while the rest grimly heaved stone. The elderly farmer must have been killed instantly.
They left old Donald Martin wrapped in a makeshift shroud, they tucked Flora into the front of the Jeep, and Flora sobbed all the way to the village—and hugged Button.
Button was amazing, Ginny thought. She was medicine all by herself. She even put her arms around this woman she’d never met before and cuddled her and said, ‘Don’t cry, lady, don’t cry,’ whereupon Flora sobbed harder and held her tighter. A normal four-year-old would have backed away in fear but Button just cuddled and held her as Ben pushed the loaded Jeep closer to town.
He was desperate, Ginny thought. The hospital, the whole town was currently without a doctor. It was now almost five hours since the quake. They’d seen a couple of helicopters come in to land and Ben had relaxed a little bit—‘Help must be coming from the mainland.’—but she could still see the tension lines on his face. Why wasn’t he at the hospital?
If he hadn’t been calling in on her... If he hadn’t been bringing Button’s test results...
‘Ben, I’m so sorry,’ she told him from the back seat, and Ben swivelled and gave her a hard stare before going back to concentrate on getting the Jeep across the next paddock.
‘There’s no fault,’ he said grimly. ‘Cut it out, Ginny, because I won’t wear your guilt on top of everything else. I don’t have time for it.’
And that put her in her place.
It was self-indulgent, she conceded, to think of guilt. She was crammed between two buxom women. She had kids draped over her knees.
Ben didn’t have time to think about guilt, she thought, and then they entered the main street and neither did she.
* * *
The first things they saw
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