LITMIR.BIZ

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What did he want? she thought grimly. Proof of medical qualifications?

      ‘You’re the pregnant lady who was driving the Kia?’

      ‘That’s me.’ She smiled down at Suzy and tried again to force lightness into her voice. ‘So there’s me, there’s my bulge and there’s Suzy. We’d appreciate it if you could get us out as soon as possible. Please.’

      ‘We’ll do our best.’ There were sounds of an argument outside the bus but she couldn’t make out exactly what was being said. A few voices, mixed.

      ‘Miss?’ It was another voice. Lower. Deeper.

      Different.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘I’m Greg Nunn from the fire brigade.’

      That was good news.

      ‘We hoped the fire brigade would come,’ Emma said, speaking to Suzy as much as to the voice outside. ‘If we have a fire engine, then we think that anything’s possible. We’re very pleased to hear from you, Mr Nunn. Suzy and I were hoping we might get rescued by the fire brigade—and here you are.’

      Only they weren’t quite close enough. ‘We can’t come in,’ Greg told her. ‘No one can until the bus is secure. This bus isn’t too stable.’

      Her smile faded a bit. Not too stable…

      ‘We know that,’ she said in some asperity. ‘What are you going to do about it?’

      ‘Can you lift the little girl out?’

      ‘I told you, I can’t. First, we’re right down at the front of the bus and I’m not very good at climbing and lifting. Second, I’m holding a tracheostomy tube in place.’

      ‘Can you come out yourself?’

      He had to be joking.

      ‘No,’ she said flatly.

      ‘If she’s holding a tracheostomy tube in place, she can’t,’ the first voice said. The doctor?

      ‘Who are you?’ she asked—and it was suddenly absurdly important that she knew. He had a doctor’s bag. He had to be a doctor.

      She could really use a doctor right now.

      ‘I’m Devlin O’Halloran,’ he told her. ‘Dr O’Halloran.’

      She froze.

      Things were swinging away from her again. The sensation of dizziness she’d fought ever since her car had been struck came sweeping back, and for a horrible moment she thought she might pass out.

      Devlin O’Halloran.

      Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke?

      Corey. Devlin. Of course.

      It wasn’t a joke.

      ‘I can’t come on board,’ he told her, and his voice sounded strained to breaking point. ‘We can’t put extra weight inside. We’re working to secure the bus now.’

      ‘That’s good,’ she managed, but her tone must have changed.

      ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he demanded, then, as an aside, added, ‘Damn, I’m going in.’

      ‘You go in and the whole thing goes down the cliff,’ she heard someone say. ‘It doesn’t need any more weight. Get real, Doc. We’re working as hard as we can.’

      Forget the O’Halloran bit, she decided. Her brain was working on so many levels it was threatening to implode from overuse.

      She couldn’t think about the O’Halloran thing. She didn’t want to look around the bus—she mustn’t. She had to keep positive—keep hopeful—so that she could remain smiling down at Suzy as if she really believed things were fine.

      ‘What’s happening out there?’ she called.

      This was surreal. She was kneeling by Suzy it was as if they were in a cave and the rest of the world didn’t exist. She could hear the sea below them, the waves crashing against the cliffs.

      It was a normal sunny day. There were shafts of sunlight piercing the shattered windows. Fifteen minutes ago this had been a glorious morning.

      If she looked downwards she could see the sea through the smashed windows. This was wild country and the wind was rising. The sea here was a maelstrom of white foam against the cliffs. Waiting…

      ‘We’re attaching cables to the bus,’ someone called. ‘To get you steady.’

      ‘That’s a good idea.’

      ‘But we don’t have enough cable,’ someone else called. ‘We’ve sent for some from the town. We need steel cables to attach to the trees, and the only trees strong enough are along the cliff a bit.’

      ‘But we’ve hooked a rope on the fire-engine,’ someone else called. ‘That should help.’

      ‘Not enough to let Doc down into the bus,’ someone else called. ‘The road surface isn’t stable enough. But we’re working fast.’

      ‘Work faster,’ she said faintly. ‘We like the idea of the fire-engine but Suzy and I are running out of things to talk about.’

      It took half an hour. Half an hour while Suzy’s throat swelled even more, and it became more and more difficult to keep the plastic tubing right where it had to be. There was bleeding into the wound and a couple of times her breathing faltered.

      Emma lifted her a little, cradling on her knees so her head was slightly elevated. She watched her like a hawk, and as her breathing faltered she moved, adjusted, adjusted…

      Somehow she kept her breathing.

      She must be in such pain. The child lay limply in Emma’s arms and stared up at Emma her as if the link to this strange lady above her was the only thing between her and death.

      Which wasn’t so far from the truth, Emma thought, as the minutes dragged on.

      The ballpoint casing couldn’t last for ever.

      Hurry.

      But finally the cable arrived. She heard shouts, barked orders as the men and women outside finally had something to do.

      And then…

      ‘She’s secure. We’re coming on board.’

      ‘Don’t wait for an invitation,’ she called, and she knew that her voice was starting to wobble. ‘Come on in. And bring morphine.’

      ‘We’re coming now.’

      Two of them came on board. The doctor—Devlin?—and a middle-aged lady in khaki overalls with an ambulance insignia.

      They crawled into the bus the same way Emma had come in. She cradled Suzy and watched them come—but only with her peripheral vision. She was still looking down at Suzy, aware that the eye contact she had with the little girl had assumed immense importance.

      ‘They’re coming, Suzy,’ Emma whispered. ‘The cavalry. Dr Devlin O’Halloran and friend.’ She glanced up at the approaching figure—a big man in a loose pullover and jeans. Someone had given him leather work gloves. He had a thatch of deep black hair, wavy, sort of flopping over his eyes as if he was in need of a good haircut. He looked so like…

      No. He didn’t look like anyone, she told herself fiercely. No one she could think of right now.

      ‘I guess this must be your local doctor,’ she told Suzy. ‘Do you know him?’

      But Suzy’s eyes were blank. Glazing a little. Shock and pain and blood loss were all taking their toll.

      ‘Have you brought fluids and morphine?’ she demanded. That was what she needed most.

      ‘We have.’

      Dev

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