‘I thought your wife was a nurse as well?’
‘She is.’ Alister’s smile suggested that Jessica’s qualifications were nowhere up to his expected standard. ‘A very good nurse, but we all need to be computer literate these days, don’t we?’
The plans for new health initiatives seemed to be more suitable for Jessica’s talents. ‘We’re going to do something about prevention rather than cure,’ Alister told her proudly. ‘We’re going to be proactive. I want some clinics running for weight management and smoking cessation. You should be able to manage those.’
‘You might find people here only want to come in to the medical centre when they really need to.’
‘And you think that smoking and obesity aren’t important issues to target?’
‘Of course they are.’
Alister smiled his approval. ‘I’ve got lots of resource material I can give you to browse through. And you’ll have plenty of time. We won’t aim to get things up and running for a few weeks yet.’
Jessica did have plenty of time. She wasn’t required to do any house calls any more. Even more disappointingly, Alister asked for the return of the PRIME kit and the flashing car roof light.
‘Jim was getting past responding to that kind of emergency but it would be silly to have the most qualified medical person sitting at home while someone else got paged, wouldn’t it? And quite frankly…’ Alister smiled ‘…I’m really looking forward to that part of the job. I really enjoyed my stint in A and E. I imagine you get a few good prangs on the roads around here, don’t you?’
‘There’s been a few, I suppose.’ Jessica was trying very hard to hide her dismay.
She wasn’t entirely successful. ‘I may have to call on you for assistance if we get stuck,’ the GP added kindly. ‘I’m sure your training has been useful.’ He looked amused now. ‘I’m not sure about that USAR business Jim was telling me about, though. How likely is that sort of disaster in Silverstream?’
Not likely at all. And now Jessica would have to give up the satisfaction of dealing with any kind of emergency work. She would be left with tasks like tackling the horrible ulcers that had recurred on old Jock Menzie’s feet. Or putting up with the amusement Charlie Yates, the school caretaker, showed when she suggested that stopping his lifelong smoking habit might improve his respiratory problems.
‘Not bloody likely,’ he said.
‘You’ll just have to be more convincing,’ Alister encouraged her. ‘Give him those pamphlets on the effects of smoking on the respiratory and cardiovascular systems.’
‘Charlie is seventy-six,’ Jessica said wearily. ‘He’s been smoking since he was thirteen and worked on a shearers’ gang. He has no family and no incentive to make any radical changes in his lifestyle.’
‘He’s setting a terrible example. All the children at school see him leaning on the back of that shed and smoking. I’ve seen him myself as I’ve driven past!’
‘Well, when he dies, you’ll be able to use it as an example of the harmful effects of nicotine addiction.’ Jessica kept her face straight. ‘Let’s just hope he doesn’t live to be ninety.’
Alister glared at her. ‘I’m not sure I like your attitude,’ he snapped. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well your position here is only temporary.’
Kay Summer laughed when Jessica relayed the conversation. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t try and stop Jim having his occasional gin,’ she said. ‘I imagine he’d say exactly the same thing as Charlie.’ Then her smile faded. ‘Mind you, he needs something. He’s really not very well at the moment. He’s so tired all the time and his angina’s getting worse.’
‘I shouldn’t be getting you to look after Ricky for me. It’s too much.’
Kay patted her hand. ‘We’re only too happy to help, love.’ Her gaze was concerned, however. ‘Ricky doesn’t seem very happy, though, does he? He’s just been sitting on the step all afternoon—rocking.’
Jessica sighed heavily. ‘He’s not happy, Kay. Neither am I. We’re missing Joe and the school in Christchurch. And I feel like I have no friends.’
‘You’ve got me and Jim,’ Kay said. Then she chuckled. ‘Hardly the same as people your own age, though, is it?’
‘I wish Jim was still at the medical centre,’ Jessica said sadly. ‘I doubt that I’m ever going to get on with Alister Stringer. Or Lizzie. I offered to be her midwife and she declined. Said she had a consultant obstetrician in Dunedin she was perfectly happy with, thank you.’
Kay smiled. ‘Let’s hope the baby doesn’t decide to turn up with indecent haste, then.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be around if it does.’ Jessica caught the older woman’s gaze. ‘I’ve decided to leave Silverstream for good, Kay. There’s nothing here for me any more and there’s certainly not enough for Ricky.’
Kay nodded. ‘We’ve been expecting that. We’ll miss you, love, but Jim will be delighted. Especially if you move back to Christchurch. He’s quite convinced that you and that Joe will sort out any problems you’ve got.’
‘Quite right.’ Jim came into the kitchen, leading Ricky by the hand. ‘And you’re not going to do it while you’re sitting a hundred miles apart from each other. Go and see Joe,’ he advised firmly. ‘Talk to him.’
‘I might just do that.’ Jessica smiled.
‘Will you stay for dinner?’ Kay was stirring a pot on the stove. ‘I’ve got a lot of stew here.’
‘Thanks, but no.’ Jim was looking exhausted and Jessica thought they’d had more company than they needed already that day. She picked up Ricky’s box of toy cars. ‘I’ve had enough for today,’ she excused herself. ‘I just want to get home and put my feet up for a while. I might have a long soak in a hot bath. I’ve always found it’s a good place to make decisions.’
‘Excellent thought.’ Jim hugged her. ‘Make sure you make the right ones.’ He ruffled Ricky’s hair. ‘And you make sure you behave yourself, young man. Your mum’s a bit tired today.’
Ricky was silent as they drove home. He waited impatiently as Jessica clicked the front gate shut, then ran inside the house as soon as she opened the front door. His box of toys was thrown aside, scattering its contents, and he knocked the telephone table as he rushed past. The phone fell to the floor with a crash.
‘Come and pick these cars up, Ricky,’ Jessica ordered. ‘Before you put the television on.’
It was too late. The television was already blaring by the time Jessica reached the end of the hall. She picked up the telephone and checked that its dial tone was working. The beeping indicated that the phone was still functioning and that a message had been left on her answering-machine. A wild hope that it might be from Joe made Jessica ignore the sound from the television as she punched in the code to receive the message. The recording had been made within minutes of her leaving the house for the medical centre earlier.
‘Dave Stewart, here, Jessica. We have a code blue activation for USAR personnel and I’m hoping you might be available. There’s been an explosion and partial building collapse in another shopping mall. Dunedin this time, which won’t be too far for you to get to. The mall’s in the Octagon in the central city and we’re using the information centre by the town hall as a rendezvous point. Hope you can make it. Bring your personal protection gear. It’ll be a couple of hours before we get there and if you want any more information before then, try my mobile.’
Jessica found herself scribbling the number down, along with the other details, despite feeling stunned. Another explosion at a city shopping mall? What on earth was going on? And how could she possibly get there? It would be an imposition to ask the Summers to take Ricky again today but Jessica knew they would do all they could to help her. Especially Jim, despite his fatigue. The call was hours old now, however. Would they still need her? Was Joe there?
The noise from the television set penetrated her whirling thoughts. It wasn’t the usual cartoon show Ricky looked forward to. Jessica stepped into the living room as the sound became comprehensi
ble words and she realised that the programme had been interrupted for a breaking news update. Ricky was standing in the middle of the room, his expression blank as he stared at the screen. Jessica sank onto the couch facing the television, instantly riveted by what she was seeing and hearing.
The scenes were horribly reminiscent of the Westgate Mall disaster. Crowds of people and emergency vehicles were surrounding an entrance to a shopping mall that looked relatively unscathed. The reporter covering the update on the emergency was trying to obtain information from an official at the scene command headquarters.
‘And what do you know about the injuries he’s sustained?’
‘We have no information at this stage. He’s alive and they’re working on getting him out as quickly as possible.’
‘Why were rescuers allowed in when the building clearly wasn’t safe to enter?’
‘Situations like this are never completely safe. USAR personnel and their support teams are trained to make assessments. The risks they take are calculated. In this case it’s unfortunate that the stability of the stairwell was not as secure as they thought.’
‘It’s a paramedic from Christchurch that’s been injured, is that correct? A Joe Barlow?’
Jessica gasped. ‘Joe!’
‘I can’t give you that information. Excuse me.’ The official turned to shout at a group of people pressing forward against the barriers. ‘Keep back, all of you!’
An ambulance was backing closer to the mall entrance and Jessica sat and stared in horror as the camera swung to follow the group of rescue workers emerging from the mall. They were carrying a Stokes basket that had a patient in it. The blanket was pulled up enough to obscure the victim’s identity but Jessica recognised several of the USAR team members carrying the stretcher. Fletch was there. And Kelly. They both looked grim and Kelly stooped to say something to their patient as the stretcher was hoisted into the back of the waiting ambulance. Jessica searched the screen looking for Joe. His size would make him easy to distinguish amongst the crowd of people but she already knew the search would be in vain. It had to be Joe on the stretcher. He was injured and she had no idea how badly.
‘Oh…God!’ The realisation that Ricky was standing there watching the same scenes struck Jessica. She grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Had Ricky understood what he was seeing? Could he know that it was Joe who was injured and being rushed to hospital? And what sort of memories could the scenes be stirring up for him of his own ordeal trapped within a collapsed building?
‘It’s OK, Ricky,’ she said calmly. ‘You’re safe, darling.’
Ricky’s brown eyes appeared distant. He uttered only one word. ‘Joe.’
‘Joe’s safe, too,’ Jessica assured him. ‘He’s going to the hospital in Dunedin now and they’ll look after him. It’s not so far away. We’ll go and visit him tomorrow, shall we?’ She stooped to kiss her son. ‘You watch the cartoons for a minute and I’ll go and see what I can arrange.’
Tomorrow was far too long to wait for news. Jessica went back to the phone. She rang Dave’s mobile number but his phone was switched off, which was hardly surprising. She rang the central police station in Dunedin but they were unable or unwilling to help. She rang Dunedin Hospital but was told to call back later when it might be possible to give her some information.
She couldn’t wait that long. Jessica rang the Summers to tell them what was happening. ‘I’m sorry to ask, but could I bring Ricky over for the night? I’d really like to drive down to Dunedin.’ Jessica had to choke back a sob. ‘It’s the only way I’m going to find out whether Joe’s OK.’
‘Of course, dear. You bring him over right now.’
Thank heavens for that. Jessica stooped to rake up the toy cars and put them back in the box. ‘Ricky!’ she called. ‘Find your pyjamas. I’m going to take you over to Aunty Kay for a bit.’
The silence wasn’t unexpected. Neither was the fact that Ricky didn’t appear to help her pack what he would need for an overnight visit. Jessica knew he wouldn’t like her leaving him again. She could only hope he wouldn’t throw a tantrum that would slow her progress for too long. She had to do this. Had to go and see Joe.
With a toothbrush and facecloth stuffed into a bag, along with the cars and nightwear, Jessica raced back to the living room to collect Ricky.
The room was empty.
‘Ricky!’ Jessica went into the kitchen. ‘Where are you?’
The back door was open but the garden was deserted.
‘Ricky!’ Jessica felt an edge of panic that spiralled sharply when she discovered the front gate hanging open. She remembered Ricky’s impatience when she had paused long enough to latch it securely on their return home.
‘Ricky!’ The cry was no more than a horrified whisper. Ricky never went out by himself. He had never run away from home. She had never even worried that he might.
Until now.
CHAPTER TEN
HE’D really done it this time.
Joe had anticipated his own demise when chunks of concrete were raining down on him in the basement car park of Westgate Mall in Christchurch. Now here he was in another mall in another city and the spectre of death was revisiting. And this time it hurt like hell.
He couldn’t breathe. If he couldn’t breathe then he was definitely on the way out. His head hurt, too. He must have given it one hell of a thump for it to hurt this much beneath the protective helmet. He hadn’t knocked himself out, though. He could remember the fall. Hardly a spectacular way to go—a collapsing ceiling would have sparked much more sympathetic press coverage. A trained rescue worker who was stupid enough to test his not inconsiderable weight on a staircase that hadn’t been checked well enough would probably be an embarrassment to USAR management when they filled in whatever paperwork was bound to be generated by a serious accident to one of their members.
He had to breathe, dammit! He had missed his chance to talk to Kelly the other night at the vineyard and he certainly hadn’t been able to bother her when she was so worried about her mother, who was in hospital. Not to ask something as mundane as Jessica’s postal address. The adrenaline rush today of getting to the airport, the flight south and the briefing session had driven away any urge to find out the information because the excitement had been enhanced by the hope that Jessica was also on her way to the callout. They would see each other. Joe had planned to have a word in Dave’s ear and make sure they were assigned as medics to the same team. They would work together and then, when they were stood down for a break, they would have the chance to talk. Really talk. And Joe would her that it didn’t matter a damn if she wanted him as Ricky’s father. As long as she wanted him. Because he didn’t want to live without Jessica. Or Ricky.
Not that he was about to give up just because she hadn’t showed up at the briefing and nobody had heard anything of her whereabouts. Neither was he going to allow this pain to prevent him sucking in enough oxygen to keep his body functioning. No way. Joe edged a gloved right hand towards the most painful area of his chest, under his left elbow. He braced what had to be fractured ribs and forced his lungs to inflate a little further.
The breath was expelled in a harsh groan and then Joe had to try again. He felt like he had been underwater for too long. He was gasping for air, and taking it in felt like a knife being plunged between his ribs. Maybe a sharp end of bone was puncturing his lung. Air would escape into his chest cavity and collapse the lung. Maybe he was developing a tension pneumothorax and the uninjured lung would collapse as well. His cardiac function would deteriorate and he’d be snuffed out well before any assistance could arrive.
What the hell were they doing up there, anyway? Joe had no idea how long he’d been lying at the foot of this staircase. His head still hurt but it was beginning to feel clearer. The bracing on his ribs was helping. Every breath still stabbed before he sucked in enough air but at least he was getting it in. Now that he could be confident he wasn’t going to die immediately it was time to turn his thoug
hts to more long-term survival. To find out how extensive his injuries were and how he could extricate himself from this predicament.
With a supreme effort, Joe pushed himself to a sitting position. The pain in his ribs increased sharply, his head swam and he thought he was going to be sick. He concentrated on his breathing and the dizziness receded. The ringing in his ears subsided and he became aware of the sounds above him.
‘Joe! Joe—can you hear me?’
‘Yeah.’ His response was no more than a groan. Joe pulled his dust mask down and tried again after taking a careful inhalation. ‘I’m here.’
The voices above became louder. More excited. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Kind of.’
‘Can you move?’
Joe considered trying to climb the staircase. He could see the lights above, the criss-crossing movement of more than one headlamp striping the wall. He had fallen the full two flights of the trendy stainless-steel stairs this electronic goods store featured. How had he managed to roll past the right-angle bend? And how on earth could he attempt climbing back up when he didn’t even know how safe it might be?
‘Need some help,’ he called back with difficulty. Joe shook his head, trying to clear it enough to remember the map they had studied at the briefing. The main floor of this shop was in the atrium, which was the way the team had entered the area. This lower floor had to be underground but surely there was some kind of fire escape that could be accessed by crawling rather than climbing.
He could do that. His limbs seemed to be quite functional and the floor should be safe. The explosion here had been much smaller than the one at Westgate. Only three shops had been seriously damaged and they were all on the other side of the atrium. Maybe the handrail and support structure of this staircase had been dodgy anyway. Or maybe it had been damaged by the panicked rush of people trying to escape.
‘Stay where you are, Joe.’ It was Fletch shouting down from above now. ‘Don’t try to move. We’re getting some ropes and gear. We’ll get down to you very soon.’
THE NURSE'S RESCUE Page 15