I was convinced that had Magnus known of my sailing accident, he would have refused to bring me. I would have refused to bring me. I knew how close I already was to cracking wide open. I didn’t know what to do about it, but I knew I couldn’t rely on myself, and it was that knowledge that really petrified me.
Magnus had been keeping one eye on his watch and the radar screen. ‘Very soon Charlie’ll pick up the first islet in the Valla group.’
I nodded tensely. Harriet Ryan was rolling so violently each time I was sure we would go over. I recognized this feeling, this noise, and the inevitable.
‘Och, away! Doing a wee reel!’ He needed both arms and to stamp in his heels to keep us seated. ‘At such moments,’ he gasped, but calmly, ‘I remember with deep affection the self-righting apparatus up top and the thought that immediately we roll over, within thirteen seconds the great air-bag’ll inflate itself and roll us the right way up.’ He bent his face close to mine and looked into my eyes in an extraordinary way. Then he said, ‘Obviously, you’d no self-righting apparatus aboard on the night Helge Ulvik fished you out of the English Channel.’
For a few seconds I couldn’t answer. I just stared at him and recognized what was so extraordinary about the look in his eyes. It was one I had seen so often, if never before in his face. I had seen it in Doug’s, and in my parents’ and brother’s faces. It was the look I always tied up mentally with the thought of going home. It used to linger in my mind at night at school, particularly when I was pre-teenage and thought of the holidays and going home and how wonderful it would be and even if the holidays were not always so wonderful, it didn’t matter because I was home. Home was a place where I belonged and inhabited by people who belonged to me and I to them. Sometimes we liked each other, sometimes we didn’t like each other at all, sometimes there were months, or as now years, when we didn’t see each other, and technically no longer had an official home. None of that made any difference. Our home was a place we carried around, not outside as a snail, but inside our heads. And when we met again at an airport, or railway station, or stepping out of a taxi amongst a crowd of strangers, we didn’t have to smile or say anything. We just looked at each other and knew we were home.
‘No,’ I said at last.
He didn’t say more for some minutes. Then he told me to hang on with both hands and dig in my heels and wait while he had a word with Wally. ‘You’ll be all right here.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.
I didn’t feel all right, or even a little better. I just felt different and slightly numbed. I watched him staggering to the wheelhouse and after an interval back. He sat down again. ‘This is the form. Once we get alongside, initially, they’ll put Harry, Bert, and myself aboard Miranda Nova. We think you should stay here until I’ve seen the injured and specifically the woman. If possible, we don’t want to shift any off this evening, as I explained earlier, but she mayn’t be able to wait. Miranda Nova thinks she can get her engines going again in a few hours, so should then make Thessa harbour by morning. But this ‒’ we rolled wildly again, ‘isn’t ideal weather for a Caesar, and if she needs one, her best, if not only chance, is to get her back to Thessa, stat. So we think there’s no point in wasting time putting you aboard if you have to come back, and if she’s got to go back, you’ll have to be here with her. I’ll settle this with you over the RT from Miranda Nova. Right?’
My numbness was increasing. ‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ He frowned at me then turned abruptly to the radar. ‘Getting her now, Charlie?’
‘Aye.’ Charlie reached for the crackling RT receiver. ‘And here.’
Tom and Bert had disappeared with their hoods up. Harry, still in his tweed cap, dodged between the coxswain and Charlie. The man’s voice coming through the RT spoke strongly-accented English as slowly and clearly as Harry had forecast, and Charlie gave the coxswain’s instructions with the same measured clarity.
Tom returned and came over to us. He was soaking wet. ‘Bert first, then you, then Harry, Doctor. No need to move till Wally’s got her alongside.’ He smiled on me. ‘Pleasure of your company a little longer, eh, Nurse? I’ll be back.’
Magnus watched him squeeze back into the crowded wheel-house. ‘Can you follow what’s happening?’
‘I heard the man say Miranda Nova can just move herself and Charlie telling her to get her head on to the wind. Will we do the same to get up against her?’
He nodded. ‘With both head on, and moving slowly, it can cut right down on the side roll. Naturally, that’s important, particularly if lowering someone strapped to a stretcher. That’s bound to take us a few runs before we’re in the right position, because the weight of wind and sea’ll force us bodily apart. Wally’ll manage it. He’s an expert at his job. May take him up to twenty or more runs, but he’ll do it and hold Harriet Ryan in the right position as long as necessary. Like this.’ He flattened his hands, kept the left moving fractionally forward, moved the right up and down and each time drawing nearer the left until both hands were moving forward at the same rate and almost touching. ‘This is when they’ll put us aboard.’
I had to ask the question I had not dared think. ‘How?’
‘Climb. Her deck’s too high to jump. She’ll put down rope or cane fenders for us. Probably cane.’
Bert was back. Both he and Harry had first-aid certificates. ‘I’ll take your bag, Doctor, seeing I’m a bit more used to patching on than you. If I don’t see you aboard Miranda Nova, Nurse, cheerio for now!’
‘Cheerio, Bert. Good luck.’
He winked, jerked up a thumb and swayed out.
It took the lifeboat eighteen runs before Wally Ferguson was satisfied with her position and then with tremendous skill, despite the fury of wind and sea, he held her steady. It was during those seemingly interminable runs, that for the first time I looked properly at the crew’s faces. In every one there was a good-humoured, non-aggressive independence and that I’d seen in the faces of the local fishermen. Then I noticed something else. Although earlier the crew had treated me as a fragile flower, onwards from the moment we reached Miranda Nova they treated me with the instinctive trust of men who had learnt from infancy to rely on the toughness and common-sense of women in a tight spot. The combination of their attitude and Magnus’s considered trust in my professional reliability, jolted my training into taking me over. Whenever and wherever that happened, I turned into a nursing machine. The process took longer than usual on that occasion, but thanks to all those men, eventually it happened.
Tom on deck lit the first flares. Magnus watched at one porthole. ‘Now our searchlights ‒ there she is! See her lights, Charlotte? Wait till we’re lifted again! Incredible how well those flares light the whole area ‒ see? There goes a rocket ‒ and another ‒ with the lines. Can you see?’
Training had taught me it was wiser not to look at certain things.‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘Going now?’
‘Just about.’ He tied his hood, and very briefly put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Sorry you’ve to wait.’
‘Good luck.’
‘And to you.’
I couldn’t watch him go, either. I slid up close to Charlie’s chair, and stared at the back of his fair head. He was asking about Miranda Nova’s fenders.
‘Our fenders are being lowered, Harriet Rianne. You should see our fenders ‒ now.’
Charlie jerked a thumb at the starboard portholes. ‘Watch there, Nurse,’ he muttered.
I touched his shoulder to show I would. I didn’t. I kept my eyes closed while the three men climbed from our deck up the side of the larger ship while both vessels bobbed like crazy corks on a sea maddened by a mad wind. I didn’t see the brilliance of the flares, the piercing searchlights or even, for those moments, hear the noise or feel the movement. I did something I had not done for over two years and thought never to do again, but I was too frightened even to feel ashamed. I prayed.
‘First crewman now aboard Miranda Nova. Also, the Doctor. Also, secon
d crewman. Thank you, Harriet Riainne.’ Charlie’s thumb went up again as I opened my wet eyes. I touched his shoulder again.
More talk between the two ships. Bill coming and going from the wheelhouse. Then Tom. Then, after a lifetime that was actually about twenty minutes: ‘The Doctor to speak, Harriet Rianne.’
Charlie spoke first to Magnus, then held the receiver for me and I used his pad and thick pencil for the notes. Magnus’s voice came over the RT with the lilt and intonations caricatured by the wind. Tara. 3, plus 2. Got that?’
‘Yes.’ I repeated the figures of the woman’s pregnancies and miscarriages.
‘Concealed abdominal haemorrhage, now stopped. Shock, plus, plus. Foetal heart audible, good. Transverse lie possibly result of maternal fall. For hospitalization, stat. Coming down to lifeboat sedated, plus, plus. Harry’ll bring additional notes and remain. Got that?’ And then, more quickly, ‘Bert and I are staying. One seaman, multiple fractures right leg. Second seaman, query fractured skull, certain fractures lower ribs both sides. Conditions of both serious, not dangerous. Right? Good. Charlie, please.’ For a minute they dealt with the technical side of transferring the sick woman, then Magnus added, ‘You’ll tell Wally it’s my opinion that the only chance of saving this woman’s and her unborn bairn’s lives, is to get her to Thessa as fast as he can.’
‘Aye, aye, Doctor.’
Bill had been listening. His head vanished and I expected another interminable wait, but within a few minutes the cabin floor was awash with the sea streaming off Tom and Bill and then Harry. They lashed to the port bunk the stretcher to which the unconscious woman was strapped. She was at first invisible beneath the waterproof wrappings and as I eased her face clear I nearly fell on her when the lifeboat suddenly gathered speed. If I had had the nerve there wouldn’t have been time for a final glance of Miranda Nova. The young woman’s colour, pulse, and blood-pressure were very poor. The baby’s heart was amazingly good.
I found I could balance best kneeling beside her bunk. After checking all I could without moving her at all, I sat back on my heels to read the notes Harry had waiting. ‘Previous obstetric complex,’ wrote Magnus. ‘2 sons. First (4), a breech. Second (2), high forceps required. (Husband not sure why). Two miscarriages ‒ husband thinks both at approx. 6 months, can’t give precise dates. (Not sure why). General health good. Health of sons good. (Both in Lisbon).’ Then came the more detailed medical account and a signed list of drugs to be used at my own discretion. Finally, on a spare sheet, was the kind of private note to me that doctors and nurses exchange with those they like and trust. ‘C. If you can get her to a theatre, blood, drip et al. before she goes into labour, I think she’ll do. Looks strong. Try and avoid labour starting up if you can ‒ not your fault if you can’t. Sorry to leave you with this. M.’
I put his note in my pocket, the rest in my medical bag and hitched into position the stethoscope round my neck. Harry crouched beside me and held steady the blood-pressure machine. I had just finished that check when a lurch flung us both backwards. He picked me up. ‘Not hurt, Nurse?’
‘Not at all. You? Good.’ I hung on to the stretcher and felt her cold, damp, forehead. ‘Harry, she must have another injection. Can you hold me steady this time?’
‘You let it to me, Nurse,’ he said then and again and again. All the return voyage he was my shadow, support, spare trained hands. From time to time, Tom or Bill loomed, swayed, silently, anxiously, and Charlie cast worried glances over his shoulder. Harry told me Wally had the lifeboat full out as on the run out, but he was making her move more. ‘Any man can get more out of her engines than she’s got, it’s him.’ He watched me. Then, ‘Still hear the bairn?’
‘Clearly. Good heart. Tough baby, this one.’ I watched the girl’s pale grey, black eyelashed and black-browed face. ‘I wish to God she would surface just enough to know. Would help.’
‘So it would ‒ watch it, miss!’ Again he picked me up. ‘Lifting lively, she is.’
I held to the stretcher with one hand and had my other on the woman’s pulse. ‘Can we possibly lash her stretcher to have her tilted on her head?’
Tom’s help was needed to lash the heavy wooden box containing self-igniting tea, coffee and soups, into place as improvised foot bed-blocks. Tom said it was a shame we’d no time for some soup. ‘Quite nice, it is. Hot.’ He stood back, swaying. ‘That’s better, Nurse?’
I nodded taking the pulse. ‘Yes. Her heart likes it. Thanks.’
‘Not long now.’
It seemed it. It seemed I had never had any other existence but in that drunkenly rolling cabin, half-deafened by the engines, wind, and sea. Then the uproar was split by the furious crackling of the RT. ‘Passing the northern light,’ said Harry.
Charlie interrupted his conversation with a coastguard, ‘Ambulance on its way.’
Before Harriet Ryan was berthed the crew had unlashed the stretcher. I followed the procession on deck and saw with a relief I had never previously known, the twirling blue light of the waiting ambulance, glistening through the spray-drenched darkness. Mr Black had come with the ambulance and on our return drive the klaxon and the sirens of our police escort, rivalled the wind. Half an hour later Mr Black delivered a healthy baby girl by Caesarian section.
Much later that night, he told me about the operation. ‘Mother needed five pints on the table, she’s now on her seventh and a continuous drip. Dreadful mess inside. Buggered up one of the suckers and nearly did for a second. Infant didn’t seem to mind. Nice little thing with a nice round Caesar head. Mother’s round. I’d another look at her before nipping out for my festive ten minutes ‒ Mr Fraser’s running the shop ‒ as I was saying, mother seems rather bucked to have a daughter. She’s not too well, of course, but I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t do quite nicely. Mark you, as I’ve just been telling Mr Fraser, according to every obstetrical text book he or I’ll have read, she should’ve died when she had that fall on her old man’s vessel. But once a woman knows she’s born a healthy, wanted child ‒ she takes a lot of killing. She’ll do. Yes, just coffee, thanks.’ He raised his cup to me. ‘Great satisfaction to all you weren’t too late for the party. By the look everyone’s enjoying making up for lost time. Had you forgotten it was on? Not surprised ‒ but a surprise in truth, eh?’
‘Very much so. I ‒ I suppose you haven’t yet heard if Harriet Ryan’s reached Miranda Nova again?’
‘She has. I’d a chat with the coastguards a short while back. In their official terminology the lifeboat is now standing by to render assistance as necessary. I sent a message to both ships giving the conditions of mother and child and wishing good luck to all and a safe return to harbour. Covers it, don’t you think?’
I said, ‘Yes.’
Chapter Twelve
It was mid-morning before the gale had blown itself out. When I went over to the hospital at noon to say goodbye to Mrs Brown and Rod, the sky, sea and island had taken on a translucent stillness and the huddled carpets of birds on the rocks were only just beginning to break up. It was about that time that Miranda Nova’s partially repaired engines started moving her towards Thessa.
‘At a crawl but under her own steam with the lifeboat as escort. A nice restful sail for them all,’ said Mrs Brown, ‘and I daresay Mr Moray’ll welcome the rest for his patients and himself, poor man. Both satisfactory from his last message, comfortable in their temporary splints and out of shock. Better for them to sail in gently on their own ship, than be wooshed off in a chopper. Choppers are invaluable in emergencies when there’s not too much wind and the range is right, but the urgency is now over, and unnecessary moving could produce more shock. Very satisfactory news of the mother and child. Of course, mother’s a little poorly still, but one would expect that. Child’s grand. And you enjoyed your party? How nice!’ She walked with me to her door. ‘I won’t delay you as I know you’ve to visit Haralda and I expect you’ve packing to finish. And I’m due in Mr Fraser’s office very shortly! Always something!
’ We shook hands. ‘It’s been great fun having you with us for this short spell. Many thanks for your work and the best of luck in your future career. If you ever return to Thessa for a holiday, do come and see us! Goodbye, and a safe crossing tonight!’
Sister Haralda paused outside the closed door of Rod’s side ward. ‘Only a few minutes, Nurse Anthony. He’s doing quite nicely but tires very easily.’
Rod’s fading tan was yellowish against the white cranial cap, but his hair was growing again at the temples. It looked much darker. His face looked ill and thinner, but no longer strained and unhappy. He held my hand when I sat on his locker and said he felt very much as if at the end of an almighty hangover. ‘I’m glad they’ve let you in. I’ve been feeling bloody guilty about you ‒’
‘That’s nonsense ‒’
‘Isn’t, and we both know it. I didn’t start off intending to use you, but that’s how it worked out.’
‘So what? Didn’t hurt me, and as my mum would say, if you did use me you did so very nicely.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Mum raise you to be a nice girl?’
‘She’s never dared admit it, but I’m afraid that’s the horrible truth.’
‘Know something, Charlotte? I think she did a bloody good job. Ever forgive me?’
I smiled. ‘Not for that. Tell me about you.’
‘You mean ‒ and Jenny?’ He went on to talk of her. He was sensible, and though he tried to hide it, obviously hopeful. On her advice he was going back to Sussex to convalesce, and she had promised to visit him there on her next holiday. ‘Then we’ll sort things out. The medics ‒ she ‒ my boss ‒ have all insisted I must postpone serious thought until I’ve a head of hair and am once again the lad I’ve always known and loved. The company’ve been exceedingly decent. They’ll transport me from door to door, once I’m let out of here.’ Sister’s head had come round the door. ‘Must she go, Sister?’
In Storm and In Calm Page 20
