Bushfire Bride

by Marion Lennox

  Her confident tone must have broken through. The girl hiccuped on a sob and then tried to talk.

  ‘He’s…he’s got a cold. I asked Dr McInnes for antibiotics but he wouldn’t give me any. Then this morning he was so stuffed up and the radio said we might be evacuated so I wrapped him up really well and started packing, but then I came back to his crib and he was…he was all rigid. Then when I picked him up he went sort of limp.’

  Rachel had reached the emergency room now. She hadn’t stopped-Katy had stumbled along beside her as she’d taken Connor inside. Now she had him on the examination table and was attacking the crazy layette, peeling it away like an unwanted skin. A really thick skin. Bootees, jacket, nightgown…

  The baby’s body was so hot.

  ‘When you found him, did you put him straight in the car?’ She was turning to the sink where Elly was already running water, but she was still questioning the frightened child by her side. The girl needed comfort but the need to establish a time frame was more urgent than comfort.

  ‘What?’

  ‘How long’s he been fitting?’ she asked directly. ‘When did you phone?’

  ‘I phoned as soon as I saw him. I picked him up and he was really odd and I was so scared I just called.’ The girl hiccuped on a sob.

  ‘The call came through eight minutes ago,’ Elly told her. ‘I rang you straight away.’

  ‘How long had you left him in the cot? Could he have been fitting for a while before you found him?’

  ‘No.’ The girl was trying desperately to focus, sensing it was important. ‘Just for a moment.’ The last of the baby’s clothes fell away to reveal a tiny limp body. ‘Just two minutes at most. I wrapped him and put him down and went to get his carry-cot and then he was like this.’

  So he’d been fitting for probably no more than ten minutes. But ten minutes convulsing still meant a risk of brain damage. They had to get him cool.

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  It was Hugo. He’d entered unseen behind them, taking in the scene before him as he strode into the room.

  ‘Convulsion,’ Rachel said shortly, without turning. She’d lifted the baby to the sink and shoved her elbow in to check the temperature, but Elly knew her stuff. The water had the chill taken off but that was all. It was cool to the touch. Rachel lowered the little one right in, up to his neck. The remains of his clothing and all.

  ‘Sponge water over his head,’ she told Elly. ‘Hugo, I need diazepam.’

  He didn’t question her need. ‘Coming,’ he replied, and disappeared.

  ‘Come on.’ The baby lay unresponding in her hands.

  Please…

  It was a silent prayer, said over and over in her years working in Emergency. Sometimes it worked. Let this be one of those times. Please… ‘Come on, Connor.’

  And, as if on cue, she felt a tremor run through the little body. Another. The baby stiffened. Arched.

  Was it more of the same? A further convulsion? The eyes were still unfocused.

  ‘I need the diazapam.’

  ‘It’s here.’ Hugo was back with her. Rachel lifted the baby’s slippery little body for a moment as Hugo carefully administered the drug.

  Their heads bent together over the tiny child. Elly had stepped back to give Hugo room to manoeuvre. He discarded the packing, then started scooping water over the little head.

  Come on. Come on.

  They were willing this thing together.

  And it worked. Connor’s body gave a long, long shudder-and his little eyes opened. Connor stared up at the strangers above, his little mouth dropped open, his chin wobbled-and he gave a feeble, feeble wail.

  It was the sweetest sound. Rachel let her breath out-how long had she been holding it? Almost since she’d seen the baby. She looked up at Hugo and saw her joy reflected in his eyes.

  ‘He’s back.’

  ‘We have success,’ Hugo said softly. ‘Well done, you.’

  ‘Lucky me,’ Rachel whispered. Hugo was continuing to scoop water over the tiny, fuzzy head but the wail was building strength as young Connor realised the indignity of his position. To have this outcome was a gift. A blessing. She looked over her shoulder at the young mother. Katy was quietly sobbing, mascara running in two ugly lines down her cheeks. ‘Will you hold him in the water, Katy?’ she said softly. ‘He sounds like he wants his mother.’

  ‘I can’t…’ The girl choked on a sob. ‘He shouldn’t be sick. I wanted an antibiotic but Dr McInnes wouldn’t give it to me. He wouldn’t…’ She sank down on a chair and put her head in her hands and Rachel signalled to Elly to take her place with the baby. With a questioning look at Hugo-and an answering nod-she stooped and took the girl’s hands in hers, pulling them away from her tear-drenched eyes and forcing her to look at her.

  ‘Katy, antibiotics wouldn’t have helped. Connor’s cold will get better all by itself. It’s a combination of fever and this heat that has caused the fitting.’

  ‘The baby book said keep him warm when he has a cold,’ Katy said defiantly. ‘It said it. I read…’ She sniffed and tried a glare that didn’t come off. ‘I read everything.’

  ‘You don’t have someone who can give you advice?’ Rachel frowned. ‘Is there a baby clinic in town?’ In the city there were clinics specifically set up for very young mothers who didn’t have the support that an older woman might be capable of finding for herself.

  ‘No.’

  ‘There’s not the staff available for a baby clinic,’ Hugo said grimly from behind her. Connor’s cries were escalating and he needed to raise his voice to be heard. ‘I do my best but we need another doctor.’ He hesitated. Then added, ‘What about you? How do you feel about staying in town and helping set a baby clinic up? Plus the rest.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind,’ Rachel said before she could help herself, and suddenly she was looking at Hugo and he was looking back at her.

  With unspoken thoughts…

  But this wasn’t the time-or the place.

  ‘We need to move on,’ Hugo said, and there was real reluctance in his voice. ‘I’m sorry but we need to move fast. The fire’s broken through the firebreak.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘That we evacuate,’ Hugo told her. ‘Now.’

  ‘My baby…’ Katy sobbed, and Hugo looked down at the thrashing, screaming infant and grinned.

  ‘You know, Katy, I reckon your baby might be the least of our problems. We’ll dress him in a nappy and nothing else. There’s shade down at the beach. If he gets hot then you take him into the shallows. In fact, sitting in the shallows seems a fine idea for everyone. It’s your job to keep Connor cool, Katy, while we look after everyone else.’

  Later Rachel could only remember the next few hours as chaos. Ordered chaos, but chaos for all that. But the township had been gearing for this event for two days now and when they moved they moved fast.

  Firefighting became a lower priority. Once the firebreaks had been breached everyone moved into protection mode. All firefighters were pulled out of the hills-it was pointless and dangerous to stay there. Every able-bodied person was assigned a job. Volunteers went from house to house, ensuring people had left, checking that everything that could be done had been done, then the town was left to fend for itself.

  Sam Nieve was in his element. He was the elderly man with the heart condition Rachel had sent home from the fire front. Now he was in charge of what he termed the home guard. He’d taken his role very seriously-he had lists of houses with every occupant, and by the time Rachel and Hugo reached the beach, Rachel accompanying Kim’s stretcher and Hugo supervising the other two seriously ill hospital inmates, he was set up at a makeshift desk, crossing off the name of every town inhabitant.

  He’d even set up planking so that every person who arrived at the beach was forced to walk past his desk.

  ‘This way I know who’s still in their houses,’ he told Hugo, and there was no mistaking the pride in the man’s voice. ‘There’s only three
I’m still worried about. Miss Baxter, who’s got a gammy leg and won’t leave because she loves her garden. Les Harding, who’s worried about his crazy feral cats. And Sue-Ellen Lesley. I’ve sent a couple of teams to bring in Miss Baxter and Les and as many of his cats as they can catch. There’s only Sue-Ellen left to worry about.’

  ‘You didn’t send a team to fetch her in?’ Hugo asked. The hospital stretchers were being set up far down the beach. The idea was that if the fire grew to firestorm status then people could back into the shallows. Every blanket in the town had been collected and was already lying sodden, waiting to cover a needy head.

  Kim’s stretcher had already been taken down. In a moment Rachel would go down and readjust the drips that the girl still needed, but Hugo had stopped by Sam’s desk and so had Rachel. She saw the concern etched on Hugo’s face and was immediately worried.

  ‘Sue-Ellen won’t come if a team of people arrive,’ Sam said, casting an uncertain glance up at Hugo. ‘I tried to tell her the danger but she slammed the door in my face.’

  ‘Have you seen her today?’ Hugo asked shortly, and Sam shook his head.

  ‘Not since yesterday. Gary Lewis went up there last night but she wouldn’t let him in either. He’s been on the radio, worrying about her, but there’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘How did she seem?’

  ‘Erratic. Jumpy. Angry.’ The two men were looking at each other and their worry was mirrored in each other’s eyes.

  ‘Problem?’ Rachel asked, and Hugo nodded.

  ‘Sue-Ellen has schizophrenia. She’s normally good but something like this can throw her. I saw her last week and she was coping well but…’

  ‘I asked if she was taking her pills,’ Sam said. ‘She told me to go to hell.’

  ‘She’d say that even if she was taking them.’ Hugo had turned and was staring up into the hills. As if he could see anything. The idea was ludicrous. The smoke was whirling around their faces and visibility was practically zero. The fire trucks had parked on the sand and were surrounding the temporary township in a ring-fire trucks in a semi-circle with the sea at their backs. There was safety here. But not for Sue-Ellen. ‘You know she hates interference.’

  ‘I was a mate of her dad’s,’ Sam said heavily. ‘I know she stops taking her pills from time to time and I know it used to scare her old man.’

  ‘Where is she?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Out the back of the town,’ Hugo said. ‘She has five acres.’

  ‘Of overgrown bush.’ Sam shook his head. ‘I’m not sending anyone else out there. Not now. If she won’t come, she won’t.’

  ‘She might come for me.’

  ‘Yeah, and you’ll put your head in a noose because of a bloody schizo…’

  But Hugo’s face had set in anger. ‘Sue-Ellen’s a great woman.’ He looked at Rachel as if he was seeking her approval. By the look on Sam’s face he knew he wouldn’t get approval from him. ‘She used to play with the state orchestra before she became ill.’

  ‘And now she sits up there with her damned goats, getting madder and madder,’ Sam muttered, but Hugo shook his head.

  ‘She runs angora goats. She spins and weaves and plays…’

  ‘And talks to herself.’

  ‘I’m wasting time.’ Hugo hesitated. ‘I’m the only person she trusts.’

  ‘Where are her people?’ Rachel asked, dismayed.

  ‘Her father died five years back. She went out for a while with Gary Lewis, one of the local firemen, but she fretted that her medication was making her stupid. She made Gary leave her be, and since then she doesn’t let anyone else close.’

  ‘You can’t get up there.’

  ‘There’s still time.’ They turned to look northward but, of course, there was nothing. An impenetrable layer of smoke. The wind was pushing ash through the air. Rachel could taste it. She opened her mouth to speak and a fine film of ash landed on her tongue. Instead of speaking, she ended up coughing.

  ‘There’s surgical masks,’ Hugo said shortly. ‘Get one on. You need to be fit. Rachel, I want everyone here wearing them. Can you…?’

  ‘Can I what?’ But she knew already what he was going to ask.

  ‘Can you take over? I need to go.’

  ‘There’s Toby.’ She stared at him helplessly. Myra had collected Toby when the order for evacuation had come and now Toby was splashing happily in the shallows with his mates from school. To them this was still a game. Long may that last. ‘Hugo, let me go.’ She placed a hand on his arm, suddenly urgent with anxiety. ‘I don’t have anyone. I can go.’

  ‘You have a husband.’

  ‘Who doesn’t need me.’ There, she’d said it, and even as she said it she acknowledged it was the truth. Dottie was right. ‘But Toby needs you.’

  ‘You don’t know the way. And Sue-Ellen doesn’t trust you. There’s no one else Sue-Ellen will come with. I’ll be all right. There are dams in her home paddock. We’ll make it in time.’

  ‘Risk your life for a schizo…’ Sam was bristling in indignation.

  ‘She’s not a schizo,’ Hugo said wearily. ‘She’s a fine musician and she’s a lovely person and she’s my patient. I should have gone out there myself last night.’ He stared helplessly at Rachel. ‘I need to go. Can you cover for me here?’

  Their eyes met. He knew what he was asking, she thought. He knew.

  But he had to go. She knew this man well enough even after such a short time to understand that his need was absolute. Toby had an aunt. Toby had a town full of caring people.

  The unknown Sue-Ellen had no one. Except Hugo.

  ‘Of course you need to go,’ she whispered, and watched his face change. ‘I understand. Go, then, but go fast and only go on the understanding that you’ll come back safe. Promise me?’

  ‘I…’

  ‘Promise?’ She reached out and grasped his hands, her voice suddenly urgent. She met his eyes and hers locked with them and held. ‘Hugo, you must.’

  He stared down at her for a long moment and his gaze fell to their clasped hands. His mouth twisted into an expression she couldn’t begin to understand.

  ‘I promise,’ he said, and he pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the lips. It was a fast and brutal kiss, a kiss born of fear and of want and of pure adrenalin. Then he was pushing her away, his eyes bleak.

  ‘Take care of Toby,’ he said as he turned and ran into the smoke. ‘Keep the town safe for me until I come back.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘HE’S got time,’ Sam said uneasily. He was watching Rachel, watching the stricken look in her eyes. He didn’t understand all of what was going on here but he understood enough. ‘The fire’s coming through fast but there’s no hint of firestorm yet. If he’s sensible…if the wind stays at its current force…’

  Only, of course, it didn’t.

  Ten minutes after Hugo had left, the wind strengthened from strong to gale force, ripping across the crowded beach with a force that was terrifying. The blast of hot air before the fire was almost overpowering. Rachel was stooped over a stretcher. Bridget McLeod had turned a hundred the week before. The heat was making her badly dehydrated and Rachel was setting up a saline drip. As the searing wind blasted across the beach, the woman pushed her away.

  ‘There’s others need you more. Leave me be.’

  ‘There’s no need to be noble,’ Rachel told her, trying not to sound panicky behind her mask. ‘We’re organised for this.’

  She finished what she was doing and straightened, trying to see through the swirling smoke. But the townsfolk were prepared. A heat like this couldn’t last. The gale-force wind would blast through with frightening force but, because of the beach, they could survive. After the initial fire front, firefighting operations could begin again.

  But for now… The little populace were hauling blankets over their heads, following orders that had been drilled into this fire-prone town since their childhood. Those who couldn’t walk were being carried into the shallows.
/>   ‘Toby.’ Rachel turned to find Myra at her side. Myra had Toby in her arms with blankets wedged between them.

  ‘There’s nothing more you can do, lass. Stay with us during the worst,’ Myra said, and there was no choice. Two firefighters had hold of Bridget’s stretcher and were carrying her into the shallows, the old lady already covered with a soaking blanket. The rest of the stretchers were lined up where the waves broke lightly over patients’ feet. Every patient had an allocated carer, each with sodden blankets.

  Toby was whimpering with fear.

  The noise from the fire was almost deafening.

  ‘Take care of Toby,’ Hugo had said.

  Hugo.

  Oh, God, Hugo…

  She couldn’t think of him, now. She mustn’t.

  The people of this tiny town were huddled in the shallows. She could scarcely breathe. There was nothing to do except survive.

  Somewhere out there was Hugo.

  ‘If I survive, so must you,’ she whispered to herself as she dropped to her knees in the shallows. Toby crawled from Myra’s arms to hers and clung. They had their blankets right over their heads, a sodden canopy to stop the shower of burning ash falling directly onto them. The fire was a roaring inferno. Despite the pall of smoke she could sense the flames-a wall of fire bursting down from the mountains. The air was being sucked up. The oxygen. It was so hard to breathe…

  ‘I want my daddy,’ Toby whimpered, and Rachel held him close and whispered into his hair.

  ‘So do I,’ she murmured. ‘So do I. But Daddy’s gone to see a patient. He’ll be back soon. Please…’

  ‘Sue-Ellen?’ Hugo was out of the car, holding woollen wadding over his face to augment his mask as he raced toward the burning house. Vision was down to almost nothing-the fire was all around him. The trees overhead were roaring with flames.

  It had caught. The back of the house had caught.

  On this side of the house at least there was a little shelter. The house itself was stopping the worst of the blast. So far.

  Hugo was coughing, retching. Yelling. Thinking fast. Maybe she’d gone to the dam. Maybe. It was the obvious place.