she felt flat, and in denial she became more vivacious.
‘It’s good to see you, Paul. How’s Serena and the baby?’
The man’s face fell. ‘She left me. Not interested in taking her place, are you?’ He looked cautiously hopeful but Kirsten wasn’t fooled.
‘Nobody could take Serena’s place for you. If you’ve hurt that woman, you have some major sucking up to do and you know it.’
Paul hugged her again. ‘I love you, Kirsten Wilson.’ Hunter returned with a dirty coffee-mug and his lip curled as if he’d just swallowed a particularly loathsome insect. Kirsten signed. Paul was oblivious and dragged a stern-faced Kirsten out into the other room. ‘You know me so well,’ he chattered as they left. ‘Come and meet my partner from last night, the delectable Nicky.’
Hunter stood at the sink and stared out the window, but he couldn’t see anything. Lord, he’d had a lucky escape. That woman attracted men like flies and she seemed to lack all moral judgement. Hunter knew about poor Serena Netherby and the flighty Paul, and he’d thought they were almost back together again. And they even had a baby. Netherby was just the sort of low-life Portia, his ex-wife, would have liked, too.
He couldn’t believe Kirsten could be so stupid as to believe anything Netherby said, but obviously they’d had some kind of past relationship to be that friendly.
It was all none of his business and he’d had a lucky escape. It was good to have a calm and safe life again. Now there was no reason he and Kirsten couldn’t be professional about this—she’d always maintained that in the unit.
Ellen wandered into the kitchen to find Hunter gripping a cup, white-knuckled, at the sink.
‘You OK, Hunter? she asked, and he blinked and smiled a perfunctory greeting.
‘Fine.’ He glanced down at the cup in his hand and loosened his fingers. ‘Looks to be good flying weather out there,’ he said, and walked away.
Ellen glanced out the window at the shredded clouds scattered ahead of a thick cumulonimbus front. ‘What planet are you on today?’ she muttered, as she switched the kettle on.
Paul, Nicky and the other night team members had left and Ellen cornered Kirsten to run through the protocols and check routines. All the time Kirsten nodded that she understood, she was aware of Hunter on the sofa as he pretended to read the newspaper. He kept staring at her over the top of the pages, trying to put her off, and if he didn’t stop she’d clock the man with one of the cushions.
She knew he could get up to mischief. It would be just like him to decide to amuse himself at her expense.
Before the battle of wits could escalate, the MIRA phone rang and personal tensions disappeared. Jim took the incoming call from a base hospital on the north coast and they all looked towards the conference phone as Hunter joined in.
A three-hour-old baby boy, Isaac Curtin, had been diagnosed with a large ventricular septal defect (VSD) or hole in the heart. Born in Taree, an hour’s flight north of Sydney, baby Isaac needed to be airlifted to a major centre for care and assessment by a paediatric cardiologist and probable urgent corrective surgery.
Kirsten listened to Jim as he outlined the hospital doctor’s problem, what his needs were and other possibilities, but she could tell they all agreed retrieval was the best option. Jim conferenced the call with Hunter, a paediatric cardiologist and a surgeon in Western Sydney, and Hunter took notes on the recommended treatment for stabilisation by the MIRA team after the decision was made to transfer.
Kirsten’s heart did a little flip-flop of excitement and she couldn’t help savouring the flush of adrenalin for her first retrieval in a year and a half despite the fact she was sharing the trip with Hunter and Ellen. She shrugged. The baby and parents were the important people.
The preparation and flight routine emphasised minimum delay in departure and Kirsten pushed the equipment out onto the roof ahead of the rest as all the sequences returned from memory.
The extra-warm greeting Kirsten received from the tall pilot, Keith, a man not noted for warm greetings, was observed stonily by the two senior staff members as they followed Kirsten into the helicopter. Kirsten rolled her eyes. Hunter probably thought she was having an affair with Keith now. She winked at Keith and watched Hunter’s eyebrows shoot up.
An experienced fixed-wing instructor, as well as helicopter pilot, Keith had flown many times in the past with Kirsten. She’d shared several hilarious picnics with Keith and his wife at the Camden Aero Club before she’d gained her own unrestricted pilot’s licence, and she considered them both good friends. Darned if she’d start feeling uncomfortable around Keith because of Hunter Morgan’s hang-ups.
‘Looks like it’ll be a bumpy ride.’ Keith seemed to derive a certain malicious satisfaction from the forecast and Kirsten grinned back. He hadn’t been able to make her airsick yet.
Stormclouds accumulated off the starboard wing and Kirsten was glad they were in the sturdy Bell 412 helicopter. At least there was plenty of room for the extra staff member and Kirsten didn’t have to stare at Hunter all the way.
Prior to take-off, baby Isaac’s weight and birth date had been fed into the computer and the MIRA program-generated drug sheets produced the correct dosage for every conceivable drug they might need on the retrieval. This double-sided printed sheet was a valuable tool in saving time in drug calculations and dramatically cut the chance of medication error. The team prepared the most likely drugs en route to save more time at the destination hospital.
Ellen ran through the probable scenario of arrival for Kirsten, as if she’d never been on a retrieval or even an aircraft before, and Kirsten listened and nodded. At least Ellen was a distraction from Hunter who was on the other side of the cabin, watching with his arms folded. She wished he’d recheck the portable crib or something because she found his scrutiny hard to ignore.
At last they arrived and Kirsten heaved a sigh of relief. Next time she’d make sure she had the window seat as a distraction.
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