underneath the collapsed stones. The lashing rain glinted on a million drops in the beams of the light, and the river looked very full; it was obvious that the bridge had been swept away.
Kerry’s eyes widened in horror as the enormity of the situation hit her. ‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed, scrambling out of the car. ‘How on earth will we get her out without equipment?’
Denovan opened the car tailgate and lifted out the blankets. ‘We’ll do it somehow,’ he said confidently. ‘You’d be surprised what a few strong men can do.’ He gave her a quick grin of encouragement. ‘You keep the lady calm and assess her condition and I’ll help these men to lift that rubble.’
Kerry turned to a woman on the edge of the little crowd. ‘Have you any idea who’s under all that rubble?’ she asked.
‘She’s Sirie Patel. She runs the Post Office and shop on the corner, poor woman. She never stops working—if it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have a village shop.’
Kerry pushed her way through to the stricken woman, forcing herself into professional mode and forgetting her own shock that it was her friend Sirie who was hurt. She didn’t deserve this, giving so much of her life to the community, allowing those who were hard up to pay her ‘next time’, lending a ready ear to listen to the woes of any of her customers. It wasn’t fair.
In her next life, thought Kerry grimly as she packed the blankets as best she could around Sirie in the howling wind and stinging rain, she would come back as something less stressful than a GP trying to calm a terrified woman trapped under a bridge wall with water gushing over her. Perhaps she’d have a career as a lion tamer or a high-flying trapeze artist!
She pushed a folded blanket gently behind Sirie’s head, all the time talking to her, reassuring her that she was being looked after. Kerry knew the psychological importance of making sure the victim was aware that she wasn’t alone but in safe and capable hands.
‘It’s all right, Sirie, love, we’re here to help you now,’ shouted Kerry above the noise of the rushing river. ‘Try and stay calm. Here, hold my hand and grip it tightly. If you keep as still as possible, there’s going to be no danger.’
Oh, how she hoped that was true! The river was so very close and fast, the roar of it filling their ears. She had a horrible vision that if Sirie were to slip into it when they released her, she could be swept down into the torrent. It was a steep hill, and even though it was raining and dark, the ribbon of lights along the road at the bottom of the valley could be seen clearly, twinkling many feet below.
Kerry looked across at Denovan lying on his stomach close to Sirie as he tried to see where her legs were trapped, and if the two large slabs of stone were actually compressing the limbs. She admitted to herself that she hadn’t expected a man like Denovan to hurl himself into the situation as he had—to be so hands-on. He’d surprised her, but after the way he’d lost his cool with her earlier, she wasn’t about to become his biggest fan. However, she admitted grudgingly, she was very grateful that he was there, and revealing himself to be so competent.
He scrambled up and crouched near to Kerry, his eyes looking searchingly at the victim’s face. ‘How is Sirie?’ he asked. ‘Bearing up?’
‘Very shocked. She’s in considerable pain, and her pulse is quite thready—of course I don’t know what her sats are or her BP. I’ve morphine in my bag so perhaps you’d dig it out. Any sign of outside help yet?’
‘I’ve rung for an air ambulance, seeing nothing else can get through here at the moment,’ said Denovan, rummaging through Kerry’s bag to find the morphine. ‘The reception was incredibly bad, but I think they’ve got the gist of it. It sounded like a ten-minute ETA.’
Sirie’s grip on Kerry’s hand was fierce. ‘Will they be long getting me out?’ she whispered, screwing her eyes up. ‘I don’t know how long I can stand this …’
‘It’s all right, Sirie, you’re going to feel more comfortable very soon. Dr O’Mara’s just going to inject you with something that’ll make you feel much easier.’ Sirie’s eyes fluttered open. ‘What about my girls?’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got to pick them up from their Brownie meeting.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll make sure that they’re looked after. One of the mothers will take them to her house,’ Kerry assured her. Thank heavens for a small, close-knit community, she thought. They did look out for each other here.
Denovan tested the syringe he was holding, then smiled down at Sirie. ‘Hang in there. Ten mils of this magic stuff will help you to relax. In fact, you’ll feel on top of the world, as if you’ve had two double whiskies …’
Sirie’s face flickered into a frail, brave smile. ‘I’m teetotal, Doctor,’ she whispered. ‘I never touch the stuff!’
‘Well, now you’re about to find out what you’re missing,’ he joked. He turned to Kerry, his voice low enough so that Sirie couldn’t hear him but audible to Kerry above the noise of the voices of the men and the howling wind. ‘We’re nearly there now. Keep your fingers crossed.’
Kerry bit her lip, watching the last stones being inched away from Sirie’s legs, praying that the muscles in the legs wouldn’t be badly crushed. Whatever damage Sirie had suffered, it was imperative that she was hospitalised as soon as possible.
She watched the men grunting and groaning as they tried to lever the stones up without slipping in the thick mud around the site. Denovan and two other men had placed the stretcher on the ground as near to the bridge as possible and were waiting to pull the victim out as soon as they dared. It was a tense few minutes and Kerry kept up a low flow of conversation with Sirie, distracting her from the shouting and noise of falling rubble that was going on around her.
At last, with infinite care, Sirie was lifted away from the broken bridge and placed as gently as possibly on the stretcher. Kerry and Denovan bent over her to examine the damage that had been done to her legs. One lay awkwardly, bent at a strange angle with multiple contusions and a large gash down the shin bone.
‘We might have guessed Sirie wouldn’t get away without any injury,’ said Denovan, straightening up. ‘That left leg’s almost certainly broken, from the way it’s positioned. It’s taken the brunt of the fallen wall, but I don’t see a protruding bone, so hopefully it’s not a compound fracture.’
Kerry squeezed Sirie’s hand comfortingly, and Sirie’s large, scared eyes looked from one doctor to the other. ‘Am I going to have to have an operation?’ she asked in a quavery voice.
‘Until you’ve had X-rays we won’t know for sure. First thing we need to get you to hospital.’ Denovan squatted down next to the frightened woman and smiled kindly at her. ‘You’ve been absolutely great—really brave. Just hang on a little longer.’
Kerry was amazed at how sensitive Denovan could be, what a contrast to the impatient doctor of an hour or two ago. He seemed to have another, softer side to him that he’d hidden well when she’d first met him—perhaps he was just very good at acting!
He was looking at the raging river a few feet away from them. ‘Perhaps we’ll move Sirie nearer the car first and then strap her leg.’
Kerry followed his glance and swallowed hard. Was it her imagination, or did the water seem higher than it had been? It looked as if the river would burst its banks any second and completely cover the road.
‘OK, Doc, but let’s do it before the whole damn things goes,’ urged one of the men. ‘Hopefully the helicopter will be here soon. It’ll land on the field at the top of the village.’ They slid the stretcher into the back of the estate car, although it wouldn’t go in completely, and Kerry bound the affected leg above the site of the fracture to the splint—just securing it enough to stop it from being bounced around. Four men, including Denovan, supported the stretcher as Kerry drove very slowly back through the village to The Larches. As she left the scene, she heard a sudden commotion behind her—a roar of water, the cracking of trees.
‘What’s