to death—literally to death in some cases—sniffing petrol, chroming, drag racing, killing themselves for excitement.’
The smile had faded and his now sombre tone told her he’d experienced the anger and frustration medical staff inevitably felt at the senseless loss of young lives.
‘And when’s this rodeo?’
‘Weekend after next. That’s why the house is deserted. Whoever’s off duty is out at Wygera, organising things there—not so much for the rodeo as for the competition for a design for the swimming pool. Entries have to be in by today and the staff available are out there registering them and sorting them into categories. All the locals are involved. I’m on call for the emergency service. Did you know we have both a plane and a helicopter based—?’
The phone interrupted his explanation, and as he walked out of the room to speak to the caller, Kate opened her suitcase and stared at the contents neatly packed inside. But her mind wasn’t seeing T-shirts and underwear, it was seeing young indigenous Australians, so bored they killed themselves with paint or petrol fumes.
You’re here to trace your mother’s life, not save the world. But the image remained until Hamish materialised in the doorway.
‘Look,’ he said, brushing the rebellious hair back from his forehead. ‘I hate to ask this when you’ve just arrived, but would you mind doing an emergency flight with me? There are fifteen kids from a birthday party throwing up over at the hospital so the staff there have their hands full.’
Kate closed her suitcase.
‘Take me to your aircraft,’ she said.
‘When you’ve put something sensible on your feet. Nice as purple flowery sandals might be, they won’t give much protection to your ankles if we have to be lowered to the patient.’
‘Are you criticising my footwear?’ she said lightly, embarrassed that he’d even noticed what she was wearing on her feet. Embarrassed by the frivolous flowers.
She opened her case again and dug into the bottom of it to find her sensible walking boots. The rest of her outfit was eminently practical. Chocolate brown calf-length pants, and a paler brown T-shirt with just one purple flower decorating the shoulder. But a woman couldn’t be sensible right down to her toes—especially not when these delicious sandals had called to her from a shop window in Townsville the day before.
Pulling off the sandals, she sat down on the bed to put on her boots, uncomfortably aware that Hamish hadn’t answered her.
Uncomfortably aware of Hamish.
‘You don’t have to wait—just tell me where to go. Is it to the airport? I passed that on the way in.’
‘Regular clinic flights leave from the airport. And retrievals leave from there if the aircraft is being used. But today it’s the chopper.’
He didn’t move from the doorway and Kate was pleased when she finally had her boots laced tightly and was ready to leave.
She followed him through the house, out the back door and into a beautiful, scented garden. She glanced around, trying to identify the source of the perfume that lingered in the air, but Hamish was striding on, unaffected by the beauty. Too used to it, she guessed.
‘We’ve a helipad behind the hospital to save double transferring of patients,’ Hamish explained. ‘The service has two helicopter pilots and one of them, Mike Poulos, is also a paramedic, so we can do rescue flights with just him and a doctor, but when he’s off duty and Rex is flying, we take two medical staff.’
‘Is it a traffic accident?’ Kate was glad she’d been running every morning. Keeping up with Hamish’s long strides meant she had to trot along beside him.
‘Apparently not.’
It was such a strange response she glanced towards the man who’d made it and saw him frowning at his thoughts.
‘It was a weird call and, now I think about it, maybe you shouldn’t come,’ he added.
‘I’m coming. Weird what way? Domestic situation?’
‘No, just weird. The caller said there was an injured man in Cabbage Palm Gorge and gave a GPS reading. You know about satellite global positioning systems?’
‘I’ve heard of it but, generally speaking, street names are more useful in Melbourne. Corner of Collins and Swanson kind of thing.’
A glimmer of a smile chased the worry from his face, but not for long.
‘Because it’s a gorge, we might have to be lowered from the chopper.’
‘Been there and done that, though not, admittedly, into a gorge. But I have been lowered onto an oil-rig in Bass Strait in a gale, and that’s not a lot of fun, believe me.’
They’d reached the helicopter, and the conversation stopped while Hamish introduced Rex, a middle-aged man with a bald head and luxuriant moustache, then they clambered into the overalls he handed them.
‘It’s three-quarters of an hour to the head of the gorge, but until we’re over it and get the right GPS reading, we won’t know where the bloke is. I can’t land anywhere in the gorge itself, and going down on the winch without a landing spot marked isn’t an option in that country—too thickly treed. So I’ll land where I can at the top of the gorge and you’ll have to abseil down.’
Rex was talking to Hamish, but glancing warily at Kate from time to time.
‘That’s fine,’ she assured him before Hamish could answer. ‘I’m qualified for that and did a winch-refresher weekend only a month or so ago.’
Taken because she’d thought she’d be going back to the emergency department at St Stephen’s and on roster for rescue missions …
‘We’ll see,’ Hamish objected. ‘I think I should go down first to find the patient. If he’s mobile, we won’t need two people.’
‘No go, Doc!’ Rex told him, hustling them into the cabin, handing Kate some headphones then checking she’d found her seat belt. ‘It’ll be dusk by the time we get there and, though it’s not as deep as Carnarvon or Cobbold Gorge, Cabbage Palm’s no picnic. Even if you find a suitable place to lift him from, I won’t be able to do it tonight. And RRS rules say two staff for overnighters.’
RRS—Remote Rescue Service, Kate worked out. She hadn’t realised when she’d asked the agency for a job at Crocodile Creek that it had such wide-ranging services. She glanced at the man with whom she was about to spend the night. He was frowning again.
‘Do you suffer some kind of knight errantry towards women, that you’re looking so grim?’
Because he wasn’t yet wearing his headphones, she had to yell the question above the noise of the engines. He turned towards her and shrugged, but didn’t reply. Which was fine by her. Helicopters weren’t the best places for casual conversation.
They lifted off the ground and Kate wriggled around so she could see out the window. The hospital was cradled by the curve of a creek—no doubt called Crocodile—to the west, but to the east there must be a view of the blue waters of the cove. She could see the doctors
