Canada.’
‘In the French provinces?’
‘No. In Saskatchewan. I did an exchange program through the fire department. I dated a French Canadian girl for a while—she taught me.’ She’d taught him a few other things, too, about human nature in particular, and he could feel his blood starting to boil at the thought of how foolish he’d been. But it had been a lesson well learned.
‘Do you have any tips to pass on?’ Phoebe’s question brought him back to the present.
‘I watched lots of French movies. It’s a great way to test comprehension and work on the accent.’ He said the words as if in an ad.
Phoebe laughed and her face lit up again. Again, too, he felt that warmth inside that told him he was the one who’d put that light in her eyes. ‘A likely excuse. I’ve always wondered what men see in foreign movies, and an improved accent isn’t high on my list of reasons.’
That was a smile he could very quickly get used to. She had little lines at the corners of her eyes—perhaps she was older than she looked—but rather than detract from her looks the lines gave her face more character. ‘I can’t speak for all men but in my case it was purely educational.’
She held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘I’m not doubting you, I’m sure it helped your linguistic skills no end.’ She was laughing again. Her laugh was infectious. So much so that he wasn’t leaving here until he knew he’d see her again outside work. He wouldn’t usually act this quickly—he’d learnt his lesson there—but something about Phoebe was different. Different enough to make him seize the moment, at any rate.
‘Are you up for a deal?’ She cocked her head to one side, clearly interested. ‘If you play tour guide for me, I’ll help you with your French.’
‘Won’t Ned be expecting to be playing host?’
‘I know exactly what sights Ned would have on his itinerary: the pubs and clubs and anywhere else he might find the under 25s. I’m assuming you’d know a few other places of local interest.’
‘A fair assumption.’
‘We have a deal?’
‘I’ll think about it.’ It hadn’t been a rebuff, her mannerisms said she was relaxed enough, but he was still a little surprised. He’d expected her to agree, not because he was arrogant but because he was sure she’d reacted to him in the same way he’d reacted to her. There was something there. Or was he reading the energy between them all wrong? ‘I have to get going,’ she was saying as she stood, gathering her books. ‘I need to make a phone call. Thanks for the sandwich.’
‘Je vous en prie.’
‘Ah…’ She stalled, clearly drawing a blank and frustrated with herself for doing so. ‘I know that one, truly.’ And she clenched her free hand in a fist and shook it at herself. ‘All right, I give up.’
‘ “ You’re welcome.” That’s what it means. And it’s in the dialogue on page one of your workbook, I saw earlier, so I’d imagine you’ll need that for your test.’
She shook her head, gloom falling over her face and making her eyes darker. ‘I’m done for.’
Then she rolled her eyes, shook her head and left him to his thoughts.
Perhaps a stint in the country would be more enjoyable than he’d anticipated.
‘Attention, attention 261 and 81 responding to an MVA.’
‘Sorry, Mum, I have to go, they’re paging me.’ Phoebe hung up the phone after saying goodbye, relieved to find all was well on her parents’ small land holding on the outskirts of town. So far, at least. She raced back to the ambulance bay, shrugging the top of her jumpsuit on as she went.
‘What have we got?’ she asked Steve, deciding that was quicker than checking her own pager.
‘MVA on Jungfer Road. The car’s left the road and apparently there’s someone trapped inside.’
Phoebe jumped into the driver’s seat, waiting until Steve had buckled his seat belt before pulling out of the station, siren blaring. A fire engine was in front of them, leading the way. As they drove further out of town the visibility worsened and Phoebe had to concentrate in order to keep a safe distance between the ambulance and the fire engine while still keeping them within sight. The emergency broadcaster was giving them regular updates on the state of the fires, including where they were burning and in which locations people needed to be making decisions about staying or vacating their properties. Residents of Lobethal were being advised to evacuate now. Jungfer Road was one road that remained open and provided an exit route for those residents. As the ambulance got closer to the turn-off Phoebe drove more cautiously in order to avoid the steady stream of cars coming from the opposite direction. She wanted to put her foot down, she felt the need to get to the crash site as quickly as possible, but she couldn’t risk being involved in an accident of her own.
In front of her she saw the flashing left-turn indicator on the fire engine. She flicked her own indicator on, slowing further to take the corner. They drove on for a few minutes but as they approached one of the few bends in the road Phoebe saw a car pulled off to one side. A man climbed out of the car and waved them down. The fire engine pulled over and Phoebe brought the ambulance to a stop behind it.
She jogged past the fire engine, concentrating on getting to the witness to get any information he might have but still vaguely aware of the fire crew already at work, opening hatches and retrieving their equipment. Aware too that Max was among them.
She stopped beside the man’s car. ‘He’s down there.’ The elderly man’s voice was muffled by the hand towel he was holding over his nose and mouth to protect himself from the hot, ash-strewn air. He pointed with one hand over the embankment and Phoebe looked in the direction he had indicated. She could see an old yellow sedan at the bottom of the slope, its front crumpled around a huge tree.
‘I went down there, but I couldn’t get any response. Do you think he might be dead?’
They had no way of determining that from where they stood and Phoebe assumed it had been a rhetorical question.
‘Did you see the accident?’
‘No. My wife and I were travelling behind that car but I lost him as he went around the bend. He was driving pretty fast considering the conditions and I guess he lost sight of the road in the smoke. I thought I’d better wait to show you where the car was—it’s not easy to see.’
He was right. The thick smoke was obscuring everything, limiting visibility to less than a hundred metres and, coming from the direction they travelled, they could easily have missed the wrecked car.
‘Do you have any idea who’s in the car?’
‘No. Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘Can we get going now, do you think?’
Phoebe could hear a slight tremor in the old man’s voice. He’d done the right thing, what his conscience had demanded of him, and now understandably he was getting nervous about the approaching fire. Phoebe was nervous, too.
‘Of course. Thanks for your help.’
He hurried to his car, still clutching
