by Fiona Lowe
Turning right at the oval, she was surprised to see Charlie’s hire car in the car park with the bonnet up. She pulled in and got out. ‘What’s the problem?’
He appeared from behind the bonnet wearing a running singlet and athletic shorts. As much as she tried to keep her gaze fixed on his face, she was powerless to prevent it from raking his body top to toe. It had been a long time since she’d seen him in a virtual state of undress and she couldn’t blame the humidity for the sweep of sweat that broke over her skin. The only thing that spoiled the view was the fact he no longer smiled at her in quite the same open and welcoming way.
‘I got back from running Wild Dog Track and it wouldn’t start. Pretty sure it’s the battery.’
‘I’ve got jumper leads.’
‘Thanks, but I’ve rung the company. They’re sending out another car.’
Their restrained politeness rippled between them, making her ache. She missed the easy camaraderie they’d shared after the accident right up until the kiss. Did he miss it too?
‘The creek’s flooded so they might have trouble getting through. If we can get it started, you can drive to the garage and I can run you home from there.’
He slapped at his exposed body—at the acres and acres of deliciously bronzed skin that strongly tempted her to touch and taste it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s give it a whirl. It sure beats hanging around here in the heat, being eaten alive by mozzies.’
Lauren positioned her car in front of Charlie’s rental then attached the leads to her battery. She handed the opposite ends to Charlie. ‘Red to red and black to black, as Dad always says.’
‘I’m impressed you know how to do this.’
She shrugged. ‘Girls need to know car basics.’
‘These days blokes with luxury cars are hard pressed to find their batteries, let alone know how to use jumper leads.’
‘Lucky this is a basic model, then. Let’s start her up.’ She turned towards her car and stopped. ‘Did you hear something?’
‘Just thunder. Looks like more rain’s on the way.’
‘Just what we don’t need.’
‘Help!’ A strained voice drifted across the oval. ‘Please. Help.’
They turned together and a teenager wearing a Horseshoe Bay Secondary College uniform was running towards them. ‘I’ll get the emergency kit,’ Lauren said.
By the time she’d hefted the pack out of the boot, Charlie was a third of the way across the oval and she had to run to catch up. The girl was straining for breath, her chest heaving and her staccato words of ‘Madeleine’ and ‘mud’ didn’t make a lot of sense. Bent double and panting, she pointed towards the basketball courts.
Charlie was already striding out but Lauren put her hand under the girl’s elbow. ‘You need to come with us,’ she said firmly. ‘You need to show us exactly.’
The girl nodded and half ran, half stumbled across the sodden oval, which yesterday had been sun-baked hard like bricks and today was a clay pan. Charlie had stopped and was glancing left and right, turning back to them, his arms outstretched in a question.
‘Behind...the...toilets,’ the girl panted.
Lauren relayed the instructions in a referee-style call and picked up the pace. As she rounded the corner of the squat, red-brick building Charlie yelled, ‘Stop!’
She teetered on the edge of what looked like a filled-in trench. Some teenage boys stood holding shovels and thirty metres away Charlie was squatting down next to a girl who was chest deep in the mud. Cautiously, Lauren made her way over to them. ‘What happened?’
‘Apparently, Madeleine was walking and she suddenly went down knee deep into the mud. They’ve tried digging her out but it’s only pushed her in deeper. The rain’s turned it into quicksand.’
Lauren took in the average age of the boys—probably fifteen—and said quietly to Charlie, ‘Do you think you might have more success pulling her out?’
‘Let’s hope so. But I’ll need something to brace against.’
‘Boys,’ Lauren called to the muddy crew. ‘Go and rip five palings off the nearest fence.’
‘Mr Grimes will kill us,’ a sandy-haired boy replied.
‘I’ll take full responsibility. Just go.’ She squatted down next to Madeleine. ‘I’m Lauren and you’ve met Charlie. We’re doctors. How are you doing?’
‘Okay,’ she said bravely, ‘but the shovels kept hitting my legs. It feels like I’m being squeezed out of my skin.’
‘How long have you been stuck?’
‘About an hour.’
Lauren exchanged a worried glance with Charlie. Despite the humidity and warmth, Madeleine was wet and encased in mud. Hypothermia was a real risk.
‘Can’t you just pull me out?’ Desperation threaded through the girl’s voice. ‘Please.’
The boys arrived back with the palings and Lauren passed two to Madeleine. ‘Put your arms over them like a noodle in a swimming pool. They’ll help support you.’
Using the extra palings, Charlie braced himself before sliding his arms under Madeleine’s armpits. ‘Okay, ready? One, two, three.’ He hauled—his body taut and his face puce with exertion. Madeleine rose a few precious centimetres, but the mud held a vice-like grip on her and the moment Charlie took a fortifying breath, he lost the gains he’d made. The mud sucked her back down.
‘Stop!’ Lauren yelled, horrified the girl was now in deeper than before.
‘I can’t move my legs,’ Madeleine said, her voice quivering. ‘It feels like they’re stuck under a pipe.’
Lauren squeezed the girl’s shoulder. ‘Hang in there. We’re going to activate plan B.’ Whatever the hell plan B was. How on earth were they going to get her out?
Ideas aren’t your strong suit, Lauren. Jeremy’s scathing voice wormed its unwelcome way into her head. Raindrops the size of twenty-cent coins fell hard and fast, splashing into her eyes. She gazed heavenward.
Are you freaking kidding me?
‘Get an umbrella for Madeleine,’ she called out to no one in particular. One of the teenagers tore off and she became aware of Charlie’s blue gaze fixed on her. He was the trauma surgeon who’d worked in field hospitals around the world. She waited for him to direct the play.
‘What’s your plan B?’ he asked, his voice low and urgent.
The question stunned her—it certainly wasn’t one Jeremy would have asked. Consultation wasn’t something her ex-husband ever bothered with, although she’d been slow to recognise that trait. He would have taken control whether he knew what he was doing or not and forged ahead, shouting instructions left, right and centre.
‘Lauren. Tell me.’
As if you have a clue. The echo of Jeremy’s derisive tone boomed in her head and she tried to bat it away. She spun around, frantically assessing the scene—nothing in the GP handbook had prepared her for this. Fighting panic, she summoned every problem-solving strategy she could muster and ran through the limited options. ‘Pumps.’ The word tumbled out of her mouth.
‘Pumps?’ Understanding broke over his face. ‘Of course.’
Really? But she had no time to think about having got it right. ‘I’ll stay with Madeleine. You ring Dad and tell him we need generators and pumps. He’ll notify the police, the CFA and the SES and bring the ambulance.’
Charlie pulled out his phone. ‘I’m on it.’
Lauren returned to Madeleine. She could see how much effort the teenager was putting into keeping it all together. ‘You’re doing really well. Not everyone would be as calm as you are.’
Maddie shivered violently. ‘One minute I was walking and then it was like someone just grabbed my foot and pulled. At first, Jessica and I thought it was really funny I was stuck in the mud. When I realised I was slipping in deeper and deeper, I stopped laughing.’
And deeper still. The mud had worryingly reached the gir
l’s neck and Lauren saw grey shadows of exhaustion on her face. Trying to stay warm was not only sinking Madeleine deeper but it was consuming precious energy. Lauren rummaged through her bag and found glucose tablets. ‘Eat these for me. They’ll help keep your strength up.’
The boys arrived with golf umbrellas and Lauren’s ears strained for the wail of sirens and the promise of pumps. Come on! Come on! Come on!
‘It hurts so bad.’ Madeleine’s head rested on the wooden paling as if the energy required to hold it up was too much.
‘Listen to that glorious sound, Maddie.’ Charlie’s enthusiastic tone matched his grin and he started singing an old nineteen-seventies pop song. ‘Hang on, help is on its way.’
The stressed and bedraggled teenager smiled back at him with adoration similar to what Shaylee had bestowed upon him. Not for the first time, Lauren wondered why a man who could effortlessly charm women from nine to ninety was still single at thirty-five.
Charlie dropped his head close to Lauren’s and asked softly, ‘How is she?’
‘Exhausted and tachycardic.’
‘It’s the pressure of the mud. It’s like being encased in concrete.’
‘I’m petrified she’s going to slip under.’ Lauren rummaged through her emergency kit, not exactly certain what she was looking for but hoping something would jump out at her. The Guedal airway wasn’t going to be any use if Madeleine sank under the mud. Her fingers touched the eye protection goggles and inspiration struck. ‘Charlie, I need some plastic pipe. Look round. Have the workmen left any?’
Charlie didn’t question her request, he just relayed it to the crowd. People went into action, surging over the area like worker ants.
Lauren was now on her belly, balanced on planks of wood and wondering how she’d somehow avoided treating patients from this position for most of her medical career and yet this was the second time in two weeks that she was lying down on the job. ‘Hang in there, Madeleine. Charlie called your mum and she’s on her way.’
The girl didn’t raise her head from the plank. ‘She’s...gonna...kill...me.’
‘No. The moment you’re out, she’s going to hug you so tightly the mud will seem like a picnic.’
‘I’m so-o-o-o tired. I just wanna sleep.’
‘Madeleine! Stay awake!’ Lauren commanded like a drill sergeant.
The girl startled. ‘O-o-kay.’
‘Here.’ Charlie shoved a length of malleable orange plastic pipe into Lauren’s hand just as the mud breached the tip of Madeleine’s chin. ‘The fireys are here. They’re setting up the pump.’
‘Tell them to work faster.’
Madeleine’s eyes widened and grew frantic. ‘I’m scared.’
‘It’s okay, I’ve got a plan.’ Lauren sounded far more confident than she felt. ‘Your job’s to keep being brave and calm, okay? It’s really important.’
‘’Kay,’ Madeleine said softly—the utter seriousness of the situation now very real.
‘These goggles will protect your eyes from the mud.’ Lauren fitted them in place. ‘And if we need it, you’re going to breathe through this tube. It’s just like snorkelling, okay? And I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’
Charlie held coiled rope in his hand that a SES volunteer had given him. ‘I’m going to sling this rope under you, Madeleine, to stop you slipping any further.’
The girl could barely nod.
The generator finally fired into life. Usually Lauren hated the monotonous chug-chug-chug sound because it destroyed the tranquillity of bush camping, but right now it not only sounded like music, it was a life-saving promise. Rex Dalton and Charlie inserted hoses into the mud next to Madeleine’s legs to draw the water away.
A film of sludge edged up onto Madeleine’s bottom lip. The pumps had arrived ten minutes too late.
‘Here.’ Lauren quickly inserted the tube into the girl’s mouth. ‘Just watch me and concentrate on breathing, okay?’
As the mud continued to rise, Madeleine’s frightened gaze fixed on Lauren’s mouth like it was a lifeline. ‘Breathe in...’ Lauren said, enunciating each word, ‘and out. In...and out... In...and out.’ Please don’t panic. Please don’t inhale mud.
She wanted to look at Charlie and the fireman, to send her anxiety telepathically, and get some reassurance from them that they were going to win this battle. Save this teenager from a mud coffin. But her job was to keep Madeleine focused on surviving. On breathing. On believing that this group of adults knew what they were doing.
Dear God, please let this work. The crowd fell silent and all Lauren could hear was her own voice against the background chug-chug-chug of the generator and the splash of brown, muddy water as it hit the already drenched ground.
‘We’re winning!’
The jubilation in Charlie’s voice vibrated through her, instilling hope. ‘At least I won’t have to peg your nose,’ Lauren said encouragingly to Madeleine.
The teenager blinked rapidly behind the googles and Lauren knew that if she could talk she’d be shrieking, No way!
‘Hang in there, Maddie,’ Charlie reassured. ‘The mud’s going down.’
When the sludge had receded from the girl’s top lip and back under her chin, Lauren removed the pipe. Madeleine coughed. ‘Here, drink this.’ She held a water bottle to the girl’s lips.
‘This hurts worse than before,’ Madeleine groaned. ‘It feels like bricks on my body.’
‘That’s because the water’s being pumped out,’ Charlie explained patiently. ‘In a minute, we’re going to try and lift one of your legs free. We’ll try not to hurt you but I can’t promise that it won’t. Sorry.’
‘Just do it,’ Madeleine said stoically.
‘You know some women pay a lot of money to have a mud bath,’ Charlie teased, trying to distract Madeleine as he and Rex dug carefully around her legs.
‘I’m never going near mud again.’
Charlie and Rex twisted and pulled at Madeleine’s legs and Lauren kept up a patter of reassuring banter, trying not to flinch when Madeleine gripped her hands tightly. Her broken arm ached but it was nothing compared to what the girl was experiencing. Time slowed down and expanded. Lauren’s rain-soaked clothes stuck to her skin and she felt a shiver race up her spine before settling in her teeth. Hurry up.
Charlie was bending over, up to his elbows in mud. ‘Okay, Maddie, we’re going to try and lift your legs now. If you can help, do it on three. One, two, three.’
Two mud-covered legs finally broke the surface and a cheer went up. Then Rex and Charlie hauled Madeleine onto planks of wood and moved her away from the quicksand trench. ‘I’m as filthy as she is so I’ll carry her to the ambulance.’ Charlie hoisted the teenager in a fireman’s lift and as he carried her, he looked like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
After completing a full examination of her patient, Lauren was satisfied that, apart from dehydration and exhaustion, Madeleine was uninjured. Using half a packet of wipes, she cleaned an area on the girl’s arm and inserted an IV. ‘Once you’ve had a shower, something to eat and a sleep, you’ll feel as good as new.’
‘Thank you both for being there,’ Madeleine said gratefully. ‘Sorry your cast got all muddy.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Charlie said. ‘That’s easily fixed.’
Lauren glanced at her mud caked arm in surprise. ‘It’s been itching like crazy so at least I’ll get to scratch before the new one goes on.’
Ian ushered Madeleine’s mother into the ambulance and Charlie and Lauren clambered out, back into the drizzle. The SES and CFA had packed up and the guys gave a wave as they drove away. ‘Thank goodness that’s over,’ Lauren said, sucking in her first deep breath in over an hour. Instead of fresh, clear air, she got nostrils full of the foulest stench. ‘Oh, my God, Charlie. You stink.’
‘Speak for yourself. You don’t exactly sme
ll like a rose.’
‘There’s no way either of us are getting into my car like this,’ she said as the chill of wet and muddy clothes set in. ‘Come on.’
Trying to keep warm, she set off in a gentle jog, testing her ribs. They didn’t bite and she picked up the pace. She quickly covered the six hundred metres down the road and around the corner to her cottage. Charlie easily kept up with her, only ducking past in the last fifty metres. As she entered the front garden, a blast of water hit her and she shrieked, shielding her arm. ‘Cast!’
Charlie just laughed and sent more water from the garden hose towards her. ‘It’s water-resistant and it’s being replaced. I’m just helping you get cleaned up so you don’t track mud into the house.’
‘Helping me? You’re muddier than me.’ She made a play for the nozzle but Charlie was taller and easily held it out of her reach. Normally, she would have gone for a low tackle, gripping him around his knees and bringing him down before seizing control, but she wasn’t risking her healing arm. No, she had to be strategic. Distract him then disarm him. How? Every time she bantered with him, he shot back a smart reply that came with another blast of water from the hose.
As she ducked another spray, her legs moved slowly, constricted and tangled in wet material. Glancing down, she realised with horror that her summer dress was plastered against her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The now sheer material stretched across her legs and belly, highlighting every bulge and imperfection. Her body had responded to the cold and her bra was doing nothing to hide her round, erect nipples. She was fully dressed yet virtually naked. Fan-bloody-tastic.
The spray of water eased and she looked up to find Charlie’s hand slack on the nozzle. He was staring at her, his eyes dark with approval and desire. She seized her chance. Scooping up a length of hose, she ran in circles. Water hit her again but it soon petered out.
‘Hey!’ Charlie said indignantly.
She laughed, holding the clamped hose tightly in her hand until she had the length of it whipped around his knees. She pulled hard and he went down fast, the nozzle falling out of his hand. Grabbing the nozzle, she pressed the lever and sprayed him. Rivulets of mud poured off his body. Momentarily preoccupied by the sight of emerging tanned skin and soaked running gear that outlined him in all his glory, he caught her by surprise.