SOPHIE buckled a sleeping Max into his car seat and shut
the door. She looked up at the leaden sky and thought, How
appropriate! Still, at least the inclement weather had
held off until now.
Getting away had been just what she had needed. The stress
of the last few days had taken its toll. Watching John
slip in and out of consciousness had been very worrying.
Worse was witnessing his frustration at being unable to
communicate properly during his waking moments. For such
an articulate man, being robbed of his speech had been the
worst insult.
She had gratefully accepted her mother-in-law's invitation
to get away to the holiday house for a couple of days.
John's condition had stabilised and now they were back
from Europe she had been relieved from her bedside vigil.
Max had needed this time away, too. He had been clingy and
upset since his great-grandfather had been taken ill, and
dividing herself between her son and John had been
exhausting. He had needed reassurance and she had been
able to give him that these last two days when it had been
just the two of them.
And then there was Daniel. His plane had touched down
yesterday and Sophie had felt too wrung out and
emotionally shot to deal with all their personal baggage
as well. She was going to have to face him soon but the
lingering memory of the last time they'd seen each other
and the shame and loathing it always aroused didn't make
her in any hurry.
She threw her small bag into the boot of her car and let
her hand linger on the bright yellow paintwork as she shut
it. She loved her Beetle. Michael had bought it for her
for their first anniversary.
Michael. Sophie felt the familiar rush of mixed feelings
rise like a tidal wave inside. The acute sense of loss and
grief had started to dissipate but it occasionally still
threatened to overwhelm her. She made a conscious effort
to concentrate on the pink flower on her dashboard as she
buckled up. She felt the wave ebb and sighed gratefully.
Not for the first time, she wondered how different her
life would be now if Michael hadn't become a paraplegic
and she had been emotionally free to marry the man she had
truly loved, instead of settling for his brother. Guilt
and pity and platonic love and long-standing friendship
had been a strong catalyst and she'd been...happy.
But with Daniel back on the scene, he would be a constant
reminder of a tumultuous part of her life. There was bound
to be a resurfacing of all the hurt and guilt and anger
that had made their previously carefree relationship a
minefield of recriminations.
She reversed out of the garage into the steadily falling
rain and thanked the gods for the divine weather of the
last two days. Max loved visiting the holiday home. But,
then, so did she. Set high on a hill overlooking the
beckoning Pacific, a short drive from Noosa, who wouldn't?
They'd had a ball, building sandcastles on the beach and
swimming in the luxurious pool. She had seen the worry in
her son's eyes ease and the incessant questions about John
slow to a trickle as he'd realised that his world hadn't
changed too much.
Of course, visiting his great-grandfather briefly at St
Jude's on their way to the coast had been very beneficial
in this process. Max had been able to see for himself that
John wasn't dead, that they hadn't been lying to him.
Sophie's eyes had welled with tears as Max had planted a
kiss on John's cheek and said, "I wuv you, G.G." She'd
noticed tears shining in the old man's eyes, too and she
had swallowed hard and looked away, battling to regain her
composure. John didn't need his support structures falling
apart. That's why this break had been so important. To
regroup. But now it was time to go home.
She looked down at the sleeveless white vest she had
thrown on after whipping off her bikini top down on the
secluded beach. Her denim cut-off shorts were damp from
having climbed into them while she'd still been wet from
the ocean. There wouldn't be much call for her to wear
this outfit for a while.
It was amazing that in just two days the sun had coaxed
her slender arms and long legs to turn a lovely shade of
caramel brown. It emphasised her dark blue eyes and the
natural caramel streaks in her blonde hair.
The car crawled down the winding dirt driveway as the rain
and the encroaching dusk reduced visibility. The surface
was a little slippery too and Sophie was grateful when the
road flattened out. She rounded the last bend before the
gate and slammed her brakes on hard, sliding to a halt.
A ute blocked the road at a crazy angle, the driver's door
wide open. Sophie recognised the vehicle immediately as
belonging to Charlie, Sally's husband. The couple had kept
house for the Mondays for two decades and Charlie had been
responsible for the magnificence of the gardens, both here
and at Arabella, the Monday family mansion in Brisbane.
Sophie was momentarily puzzled. The car didn't appear to
be damaged so an accident seemed unlikely despite the
atrocious driving conditions. A breakdown maybe?
But...where was Charlie?
And then she saw him through the gloom. A figure lying on
the ground, face up, near a rear wheel.
"Oh, my God," she whispered as her nursing instincts urged
her body to action. She glanced at Max, who was still
sleeping soundly. She grabbed her mobile, praying for
decent coverage, and flung her door open. She went
directly to her boot, pulled out the first-aid kit and
bolted to Charlie's side.
The rain drenched her in seconds. It didn't matter. Only
Charlie mattered.
"Charlie! Charlie!" she called, as she knelt in the mud
and shook him. She ignored the tiny hard rocks that dug
into her knees like needles. She grabbed the torch from
the first-aid kit and shone it in his face.
"Damn," she swore, as the gravity of the situation became
apparent.
It was obvious Charlie had had a massive allergic reaction
to something. He'd seemed perfectly fine ten minutes ago
when she had waved him good bye, so it had to be
anaphylactic shock. Bees. She remembered he was allergic
to bees.
His face had swollen dramatically, his eyes puffed to the
point of being shut. His face looked grotesque. Ogre-like.
The skin was shiny, stretched beyond its normal
elasticity. He was flushed and had huge red welts covering
his body.
"Charlie!" she called again as she ground her fist into
his sternum, hoping to gain some response. He was
unconscious. She felt his carotid pulse and was relieved
to find he had one but unsurprised by its weak, erratic
beat. He was fading. Fast.
Sophie heard the distinctive raspy noise of obstructed
breathing. She prised his mouth open and inspected his
large swollen tongue. Soon it would totally occlude his
airway.
She dialled triple zero. "Yes, I need an ambulance," she
said, raising her voice to be heard above the rain which
was bucketing down, plastering her caramel blonde hair to
her head and her clothes to her body.
Sophie gave the details to the ambulance call-taker while
monitoring Charlie's pulse and breathing. As she talked
she was thinking. Adrenaline. Didn't Charlie usually carry
the lifesaving drug?
She looked around and noticed for the first time the
contents of a small toiletry bag strewn on the ground
around Charlie. Had he been trying to get to his vital
injection when he'd lost consciousness?
She nearly cheered out loud as she shone the torch on the
Adrenipen, which had rolled out of Charlie's reach just
under the car. It was aptly named. Looking like an
ordinary pen, inside the barrel a cartridge of adrenaline
replaced ink. The nib was a fine needle. It was a simple
single-use unit that anyone could be taught to use, even a
child.
She reached over him, extracting it and checking it was
ready to go. Still talking to the ambulance call-taker,
Sophie plunged the pen into his upper arm muscle and
depressed the button on the end to deliver the entire
contents into his system.
Sophie was relieved to feel Charlie's pulse strengthen but
dismayed to hear that the inclement weather had stretched
the ambulance service to its limit. Paramedics were being
despatched but due to their relative isolation the ETA was
twenty minutes. Charlie didn't have twenty minutes.
Just then a car engine and a set of headlights intruded
into her frantic thoughts. Sophie could have cried she was
that grateful. She watched the man get out of his car, the
heavy rain obscuring his face, and waved him over.
"What happened?" he asked, kneeling beside her. Sophie
turned to explain and stopped, the words dying on her
lips. "Daniel?" she shouted above the rain, drips of water
hanging off her sodden fringe.
"Sophie?"
They stared at each other. Years of love, hate, anger,
friendship, guilt, bitterness and...yearning filled the
space between them.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you were
with John? He's OK, isn't he?'Alarm raised her voice even
further. He should be with John.
"He's fine. I came to talk to you. But," he said, looking
down at Charlie, "it can wait." They clearly had an
emergency on their hands. He had to concentrate on
that. "What's happened to Charlie?"
Sophie made room for Daniel to assess their patient.
Relief to have an intensive care paramedic by her side
flooded through her. She could put all the other issues
aside if he could. Charlie would die unless they did
something.
"Allergic reaction?" 'I'm assuming it was a bee," she
confirmed. "How long ago?" 'Not sure. He was ten minutes
ahead of me and I've been here close to ten minutes.
Depends when he was bitten. Twenty minutes tops."
"He's lucky you came along." 'He's had a hit of adrenaline
but he needs more." 'And some hydrocortisone and an
antihistamine," he agreed, switching to clinical mode.
"Oxygen would be handy, too." 'He's barely breathing and
cyanosed,'Daniel observed as Sophie noticed the blue tinge
starting to stain Charlie's lips.
"Ambulance is still fifteen minutes away,'she said, using
the torchlight to consult her watch.
Daniel had never wanted his trauma kit more. Here, on the
roadside in the pouring rain with no equipment, no drugs
and no shelter, there didn't seem much hope. But he did
have a fully qualified emergency nurse by his side, which
was an asset he knew you couldn't put a value on.
He had to think of her like that. As a nurse. An asset. A
card he held to help save Charlie's life. Because if he
thought of her as Sophie, his Sophie — the girl he'd
taught to climb trees, to ride a bike and where to kick a
guy who wouldn't take no for an answer — he would be of no
use to Charlie.
He shook his head, flinging water droplets into the air
that joined the others belting down from the sky. Damn the
rain! Damn the bad visibility. And damn Sophie. Damn her
for still being as beautiful as she was in his dreams.
Daniel put his head right down to Charlie's mouth,
concerned that the laboured breathing they were both so
attuned to, despite the noise of the rain, had stopped. It
had!
"He's stopped breathing." 'Damn it, Charlie! Don't do this
to us.'Sophie gave their patient a shake. She pulled a
resus mask out of her first-aid kit and fitted it over
Charlie's nose and mouth.
"I don't think you're going to be able to oxygenate him
that way," said Daniel, adjusting Charlie's neck for her
so she could hold the mask in place properly. "His airway
is totally obstructed."
"I know," she admitted, "but maybe we can get some
through. You watch his chest."
Sophie blew into the port at the top of the rubber mask
that formed a mouthpiece. She repeated the exercise a few
times.
"No chest movement," said Daniel. "It's no good, we'll
have to trachy him."
"What?" Sophie stared at him like he'd just suggested they
put a gun to Charlie's head and shoot him. "Are you crazy?
How? What with? We can hardly see each other, let alone
perform an operation on his neck!"
"It's the only way, Sophie, trust me," he said, running to
his car.
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