taking a roundabout route to get to Christchurch.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Wales.’
Tom was grinning again. ‘Can you sing?’
Emma actually laughed. ‘Not right now.’
‘Fair enough.’ Tom leaned further in. Emma could have wrapped her arms around his neck if she’d wanted to. And she did want to. Very much.
‘I’m just going to have a feel down your leg,’ Tom told her.
‘OK.’
‘I hope you don’t say that to every man you’ve just met.’ It was astonishing how Tom could actually make a joke of trying to assess how badly she was trapped. It was a great technique, though. Emma trusted him completely. She would do whatever she had to do to be co-operative.
‘Ow!’
‘Sorry. You’ve got some trauma. You’re bleeding a bit.’
Emma had heard that kind of understatement from medical professionals more than once.
‘I do feel pretty weird. Have I lost enough to be in shock, do you think?’ Dark eyes flicked up to meet hers and Emma smiled wryly. ‘I’m a nurse,’ she told Tom. ‘I’ve probably imagined the worst-case scenario here in lurid detail.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Tom was pulling at something well below the water line. Emma felt something metallic scraping against her leg and bit her lip to prevent crying out and restricting his efforts. ‘What kind of nursing?’
‘I used to be a theatre nurse. I’ve worked in Emergency, too, and loved that. I’ve just been a general practice nurse since Mickey was born and I’m more than ready for a change.’
‘Not exciting enough?’
‘No.’
‘So you came looking for some adventure.’ Tom grunted with the effort of trying to bend something from his upside down position.
‘Not this kind.’
‘Long way to come.’ Tom adjusted his position. He used one hand to anchor himself on the doorhandle just behind Emma’s head and twisted, pushing his other arm further into the water. ‘Have you got family in New Zealand?’
Did Mickey’s father count? ‘Not exactly.’
‘Friends?’
‘Um…’ What she and Simon had had could hardly be described as ‘friendship’. A wild affair with undying passion declared on both sides. Something that had ignited so quickly it had bypassed anything resembling a friendship. A conflagration that had been over even more quickly than it had begun.
‘Not really,’ Emma told Tom.
‘You don’t sound too sure.’
‘Mmm.’ That was it in a nutshell, wasn’t it? Emma wasn’t sure. ‘It’s a bit complicated.’
‘Ah-h…’ Tom sounded sympathetic but polite. He was still trying to bend whatever piece of metal was trapping Emma’s leg. He was also clearly trying to distract her with some conversation but didn’t want to tread on any ground that was too personal. ‘So you were heading for Christchurch?’
‘Yes.’
‘My home town.’
‘Really?’ Why did that suddenly make the largest city in South Island a much more attractive destination?
‘Yep.’ Tom grunted with the effort he was putting into trying to shift the piece of metal. ‘Not necessarily a tourist Mecca, though. How come you’re not heading for Queenstown or Milford?’
‘Mickey’s father lives in Christchurch.’
‘Oh…’ The sound carried a wealth of understanding this time. Too much. ‘He must be looking forward to seeing you guys.’
‘He doesn’t know we’re coming.’ Emma wasn’t sure why she was blurting out so much information here. Maybe her fear was still too real. If she didn’t make it, someone would have to take responsibility for getting Mickey back to his grandparents.
‘You’re separated?’ Tom looked up for an instant which gave the impression he was particularly interested in her response.
‘We were never together.’
‘Oh…right.’ Tom bent his head again. Emma could feel his hand on her leg, searching for a better position to tackle the obstacle. She could also feel his puzzlement.
Of course they had been together. Mickey’s conception had hardly been immaculate, had it?
‘I ended the relationship,’ Emma explained, ‘the day I found out I was pregnant with Mickey.’
Tom’s face appeared even more swiftly. ‘You mean he doesn’t know about Mickey yet?’
Emma could sense his disapproval. As though she had disappointed him on some level involving honesty or morality. The need to defend herself was the best distraction he’d come up with so far.
‘Simon hadn’t seen fit…to tell me that he was married,’ she informed Tom. ‘So I didn’t really feel he was automatically entitled to the truth from me.’
Funny how being faced with the possibility of losing her life hadn’t made the guilt go away. In fact, it had just grown stronger, inexplicably fed by the sense of disapproval from a man who was a complete stranger. A stranger she was dependent on if she was going to make it out of this.
Maybe she could help him understand.
‘Have you got kids, Tom?’
‘Hell, no!’ The sound Tom made could only be described as a relieved chuckle. ‘I’ve managed to avoid them so far.’
So he didn’t like children, this hero who had just saved her own child? She was curious that the information should seem so disappointing but he had saved Mickey so Emma decided she should just feel grateful. He was risking his own life again to try and save her and there was no amount of gratitude that could ever encompass that. Especially when success was far from guaranteed.
As if to emphasise the point, the van suddenly moved. It rocked and then twisted and Emma cried out in alarm. The cry changed to a choking sound as water broke over her face and for a few moments Emma lost her focus on what was happening. Panic clawed at her and she struggled, aware of a sharp pain in her foot and a vice-like grip around her upper body.
‘Emma! Emma! Try and hold still for just a bit longer. We’re almost there.’
How many times had Tom repeated his command before the words made sense? Before Emma stopped coughing and spluttering and struggling to try and escape?
‘I’m…sorry,’she finally sobbed. ‘I’m just so scared.’
‘I
