‘Yes, but…’ Alistair was frowning.
‘Or would you prefer to give the anaesthetic while I do the manipulation? You’re probably stronger, but I’m game.’
‘Hey,’ Don said, startled. ‘Game? You make it sound like it’s a Girl’s Own adventure.’
‘Of course it is,’ she told him. ‘Like lighting a fire by rubbing sticks. Only manipulating shoulders is much quicker. Have you eaten anything in the last few hours?’
‘Not since lunchtime,’ Don told them.
‘Well, then.’ Sarah turned to Alistair. ‘Do we have what we need? Can we start? Now?’
‘It’d mean he wouldn’t have to fly out.’ Alistair was staring at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted Martian antennae. ‘The locals hate the flight to Cairns. To go there for every simple operation…’
‘You should have another doctor here.’
‘Oh, right. With a district population of less than two thousand and no big town facilities? You try attracting another doctor.’
‘And yet you came?’
‘I’m different,’ he said shortly. ‘I love it.’
She gazed at him thoughtfully. Grant had derided him so much—his country hick brother who was never going to amount to anything. But he was amounting to something. Of course he was. Who was more important? she thought suddenly. The high-earning powerful neurosurgeon in a big city hospital, or the doctor who’d made a decision to earn a tenth the amount but care intensely for a tiny community like this?
‘He’s another one who came by choice,’ Don said. ‘Like me. I love the place. Unlike our representative of the police force.’
‘The locals don’t get on with Barry?’ she asked, and Don gave a derisory snort as though the thought was clearly ridiculous.
‘He’s been moved sideways against his will,’ Alistair told her, sounding unwilling to go further. But Don was only too ready to fill in the details.
‘Barry was given the choice of coming here or leaving the police force,’ Don said, his dislike sounding in every word. ‘He was involved in a high-speed police chase a couple of years back, just outside Cairns. Two twelve-year-olds in a stolen car. It was dead clear they were kids—for heaven’s sake, their heads hardly reached the top of the seat. But Barry pulled out all stops, even firing warning shots. He shot out the tyres, the kids crashed and they were killed.’
Don hesitated, and Sarah could see he was trying to balance his dislike with justice, but obviously he failed.
‘I know sometimes it’s a hard call for the police—whether they chase or pull out,’ he said slowly. ‘But what made it worse was Barry’s attitude. Some reporter gave him a few drinks after the trial and Barry’s on record as saying scum like that deserve everything they get.’
‘Oh, no.’
‘No’s right,’ the publican told her. ‘Especially as the kids came from the most appallingly underprivileged homes. They never had a chance. Anyway, Barry managed to avoid being sacked, but he was demoted and moved to where he was least likely to do media damage. So Dolphin Cove got him. He hates being here and we’d prefer no police at all. He gives the locals a hard time. I’ve got a couple of alcoholics I cope with—when they get drunk on my patch I pick ’em up and take them home. But Barry enjoys tossing them into jail. They’re fined, and who suffers from that? Their wives and kids—who go without anyway. And kids petrol-sniffing… Instead of giving them a clout on the ear and a lecture, Barry sends ’em to Cairns. To juvenile detention. They come back little criminals in the making. But meanwhile…’ He touched his arm and grimaced. ‘You’re sure you can do this?’
Sarah nodded. She looked at Alistair. ‘And you?’
He nodded back. He looked bemused, she thought. Out of his depth. Which was good. He’d hurt her so much. It was good to have the boot on the other foot for a change, even if it was for such a minor instance. ‘If you’re sure,’ he told her. ‘And if Don trusts a stranger.’
‘She’s no stranger,’ Don said soundly. ‘She’s got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen in a woman. Or in a man, either, for that matter. She looks a friend to me. So I’ll lie back and think of England and let you two do your worst.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE publican’s arm was harder to fix than they’d thought, though Alistair had the equipment—‘In an emergency I call in the Flying Doctor for help, and I have a fully equipped theatre with all the drugs in case there’s someone here to help me.’
He made everything ready as Sarah did a careful examination and took a history. To give an anaesthetic without doing both was stupid.
And that was where she found problems.
The man was seriously overweight. She listened to his chest and then quietly signalled to Alistair that she wanted to see him outside.
‘I need advice,’ she told him. ‘That chest almost sounds asthmatic. It’s scaring me. My anaesthetics is basic. I don’t want him dying of a dislocated shoulder.’
‘Do you want to call it off?’ Alistair asked, but she shook her head and turned to the nurse.
‘Claire, can you set up a phone link with the duty anaesthetist in Cairns?’
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