facilities of St Christopher’s burns unit here.
‘The flying doctor’s on the way. We stabilise them as best we can and they’ll fly them to somewhere with a burns unit.’
‘So, it’s a first response situation,’ he said, turning to look at her. She was studying the road ahead, concentrating on the thin strip of bitumen, so all he could see was a clean, perfect profile—high forehead, straight nose, the flare of lips, the delicately pointed chin.
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘Most of our emergencies are. We stabilise people and send them on—some, if they’re locals, come back so we know about the eventual outcome but many of them, travellers passing through, are never seen again.’
‘Most emergency medicine is like that—I rarely see anything of the patients I treat once they’ve left the ER. Rarely hear how they’ve fared, for that matter.’
‘And does that bother you?’
She glanced his way and he sensed she was really interested in his reply, an interest that intrigued him.
‘Why do you ask?’
She smiled.
‘I suppose because I know most of my patients so well. The local ones are part of my life and I’m part of theirs so we work together to get the best outcomes for them. I can’t imagine a scenario where I don’t know what happens next.’
The words rang true, and Mak wondered if a woman who could be so involved in her patients’ lives could also be the manipulative female he suspected she was.
Of course she could be. All human beings were multi-faceted.
‘I suppose part of the fascination of medicine is that it offers so many different opportunities in its practice,’ he said, although the way she’d spoken made him wonder about what had happened to some of the patients he’d treated. Just a few who’d made a big impression on him, or those who had been tricky cases…
‘Anyway, I’m glad you’re here for this job,’ she continued. ‘You probably have far more experience with burns than I do.’
Her gratitude made his gut squirm and her frank admission about her capabilities didn’t fit with the picture he’d built up in his mind. Served him right for pre-judging?
He turned his mind from the puzzle this beautiful woman presented to the task ahead of them.
‘Were the pipes in an enclosed space?’
She glanced his way again.
‘I haven’t been out there for a couple of weeks so I don’t know what’s been going on, but originally all the piping was exposed—right out in the open.’
Another glance then her attention switched back to the road. ‘You’re thinking inhalation injuries? Even outside, if they were close to the pipe when the accident happened…’
She paused, frowning as she thought, then asked, ‘Would obvious facial burns always be indicative of inhalation injuries?’
She had a quick mind, something he usually admired—and enjoyed—in a woman, but in this woman?
‘Yes, it should give us an indication. If there are signs of facial involvement—maybe even if there aren’t—we should intubate them. If there’s internal tissue damage that causes swelling—’
‘Intubating later might be impossible,’ Neena finished for him, happy to be talking medicine, although distinctly unhappy about this man’s sudden intrusion into her life.
Was he simply who he said he was—someone sent by the company to assess the strain the additional population was putting on medical services? Or had Theo’s mother, the coldly formal Helen Cassimatis of the emails and letters, sent him?
He was quiet now. Maybe, like her, he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself before he saw the patients.
She risked a glance at him, pleased he was looking out the window into the darkness through which they passed.
A very good-looking man, but…
Greek name, Greek company…
Not that Neena hadn’t expected it. Theo’s complaints about his stifling family, while probably exaggerated, had suggested nothing less, and she’d doubted Theo’s mother wouldn’t do something to follow up the outrageous offers she’d made!
First there’d been an offer of financial help, followed closely by the suggestion that Neena move to the city so she could have the best medical attention. Then a letter just to let Neena know ‘the family’ had accommodation she could have rent-free in Brisbane so she wouldn’t have to work.
And all so ‘the family’ could get their hands on Neena’s child! The same ‘family’ that had produced Theo—charming, intelligent, handsome and smart, and so cosseted and spoiled, so used to getting his own way, he’d taken Neena’s panicky, and admittedly last-minute no as a tease and had forced her.
The squelchy feeling in her stomach wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but she still couldn’t think of that night without feeling a slight nausea. She breathed deeply, in and out, and concentrated on the road ahead.
They’d left the silent, deserted town well behind them and she pushed the memories equally far away.
The road was dead straight, a single-lane strip of bitumen that in daylight stretched to the horizon. Now, at night, a cluster of lights marked the site of the geothermal experimental station.
‘Is there an airstrip at the site?’ Mak asked. ‘Can the flying doctors land there?’
Neena shook her head.
‘At first it was just a couple of exploratory crews out here, drilling down to work out how far they needed to go to get to the hot rocks. When they found them closer to the surface than they’d expected…’
She stopped and turned briefly towards him.
‘I suppose you know the rocks can be anything from two to ten kilometres beneath the surface of the earth and apparently when you’re drilling and pumping water and steam every metre makes a difference?’
‘I know a bit about the process—I’m interested in all alternate power sources and geo-thermal in Australia makes a lot of sense. But you’re saying that for exploratory purposes there was no need for an airstrip? Because the crews moved around?’
She nodded and Mak saw the frown he’d glimpsed earlier pucker her brow.
‘And now?’
Glancing his way again, she shrugged.
‘I think they should have a strip. The land’s as flat as a table top so it wouldn’t cost much to ‘doze one, and although I wouldn’t for the world wish accidents on any of the workers, they do happen and in cases like this we could airlift the injured men straight out rather than having to bring them into town and then airlift them. Every time they’re moved, we put them more at risk of infection.’
‘Well,
