The Elusive Consultant

by Carol Marinelli

He didn’t ask if they could come, he didn’t need to.

  Tessa was in charge and technically should stay but, given Jane’s neck and Kim’s pregnancy, they weren’t exactly inundated with options as to who should go out on the rescue.

  Pulling off her shoes and top, Tessa didn’t even feel a hint of embarrassment as she flashed rather too much creamy bust encased in a violet bra to her colleagues. They’d all seen worse.

  ‘Jane, let the supervisor know—she’s already sending two staff down. She’ll come and oversee the department while I’m out.’

  Jane nodded, or at least as much as she could with her wry neck.

  In no time Tessa had pulled on her waterproof jacket and boots, and the paramedics helped her quickly load on her rucksack. Max, who had stripped off practically in the corridor, was already in the ambulance, flicking on the sirens to clear the road.

  ‘Come on, guys,’ he ordered as they piled in, Tessa pulling on a large red hard hat. She handed one of the same to Max who took it with barely a word of thanks, his mind already with his patient.

  ‘’Struth.’ Ryan grinned, pulling out of the ambulance bay at breakneck speed. ‘You wouldn’t want to be married to him, Tessa. No chance of an extra coat of lipstick with him waiting in the driveway.’

  At least Max had the grace to blush.

  The roads were like glass, and even Max, who was straining at the bit to get there, didn’t moan when Ryan took the bends relatively slowly. Another accident was the last thing they needed right now.

  ‘How old?’ Tessa asked.

  ‘Around eleven—that’s basically all we’ve got. He’s fallen about ten metres, landed on a ledge halfway down Burney’s lookout. Have you been there?’

  Tessa shook her head but no one noticed. They were all shouting about the sirens. ‘Too near the edge for me.’

  ‘What time’s the tide due in?’ Max asked, looking down at his heavy watch and fiddling with what seemed an inordinate number of dials.

  ‘Five-o-nine,’ Ryan shouted, and Tessa, who had no more need for a sports watch than a size-eight dress, felt a little left out as Jim and Max programmed the contraptions on their wrists, her battered but much-loved fob watch obviously superseded.

  ‘We’ve got back-up coming,’ Jim shouted, relaying the crackling messages on the two-way radio, ‘but they’re well behind us. Most of the ambulances are with the RTA and a couple of fire trucks are coming from a nursing home.’

  ‘There’s a fire in a nursing home?’ Tessa was aghast, frantically imagining the scene at Emergency if a home full of geriatrics suddenly started descending on them.

  ‘The roof blew off, love.’ Jim grinned. ‘They’ll be needing an extra mug of cocoa tonight.’

  Burney’s lookout was a small picnic area at the end of a long sandy track. The ambulance bumped along, its wheels swerving erratically in the soft, wet conditions, intermittently whirring as the vehicle threatened to get bogged down. ‘We’ll have to leave it here.’

  As soon as the back of the ambulance opened, the full atrocity of the conditions hit Tessa. Rain lashed her face and the wind whipped her dark hair over her eyes, literally knocking the breath out of her. Running was a near impossible feat and she struggled with the weight of her backpack as the wind pushed her backwards.

  ‘I can see him!’ Ryan was lying on the small-decked area, his large frame a solid reassuring figure, his words almost drowned out by the raging storm.

  ‘Rope,’ Max said, unceremoniously lashing a safety rope first around Tessa and then himself, securing them to the rather fragile-looking wooden fence. And for once Tessa didn’t even think about holding her stomach in, her concern solely for the little boy, lying metres down on a ledge.

  ‘He’s moving.’ Max was lying prostate next to Ryan, craning his neck for a better view, making futile attempts to call to the boy. His words were lost the second they left his lips. ‘His legs are broken, but I definitely saw movement in his arm. I’m going down.’

  ‘Hold on a sec, Doc.’ Ryan shook his head. ‘We need to assess things first.’

  ‘What’s to assess?’ Max snapped. ‘He’s not going to walk up himself—look at his legs. And he’s in no state to strap on a harness.’

  ‘There’s no trees nearby for one thing, so there’s nothing stable to secure a rope to,’ Ryan said, not remotely fazed by Max’s agitation, too used to drama to risk a team with a hasty decision. ‘And this fence isn’t going to hold anything for long. We need to wait for back-up.’

  ‘We could use the ambulance.’ Max said urgently. ‘That will hold us.’

  But Ryan shook his head. ‘That’s what I was trying before—we can’t get it in close enough.’ Max was the doctor, theoretically in charge, but Ryan was a paramedic, used to rescue situations, used to battling appalling conditions, and Max respected that. ‘If anyone goes down now, it will have to be you,’ Ryan said to a nodding Max. ‘Jim and I are too heavy for you lot to pull up, especially with a kid.’ His words were delivered so calmly, so steadily that for a second Tessa relaxed. Ryan had it all under control, he was used to this type of emergency.

  But just as Tessa felt her heart rate steady somewhat, felt the situation was coming under control, every last piece of order was shredded as a huge angry wave rolled in, its surf cascading over the edge, literally knocking Tessa from her feet. Such was its force Tessa was sure she would be swept away, the wooden boards slipping under her fingers as she fought to grab on, her boots slipping, offering no grip. She was sure the rope that the fence that was holding them would give way at any second.

  A strong hand was holding her then, pulling her to her feet as the surf dashed angrily back, a tiny pause to gain their collective breaths as Max held her tight.

  ‘You all right?’

  Tessa could only nod, real fear clutching her now. She chewed her lip with nerves as Ryan lay back down, peering into the swirling froth of surf.

  ‘He’s still there,’ Ryan shouted. ‘The ledge is acting as a buffer.’

  ‘For how long, though? Ryan, we’ve got to go down now!’ Max was pulling on a harness, and Jim helped him secure it as Ryan pulled himself up. Tessa pulled the hard metal stretcher over but Ryan shook his head.

  ‘There’s no time for that. Just put the second harness on him and a hard collar if there’s time, then I’m pulling you up. If that tide comes up any higher or you can’t free him, I’m pulling you up anyway— got it?’

  Max nodded, his face pale against the red hard hat, his mouth clamped firmly shut as Ryan shouted his orders over the wind.

  ‘Come up backwards and keep your rucksack on— it will act as a shield against the cliff. Just wrap your arms around the kid and we’ll haul you up.’ He was checking the clips, pulling the straps tight. ‘Tessa, you lie down and watch him. Jim and I are going to take the strain. You shout the orders and shout them loud.’ One final quick check and Ryan nodded his consent that it was time to move. ‘It’s going to hurt, mate.’

  ‘Be careful.’ Her teeth were chattering, her fear palpable. As Max leant back, took the first tentative step off the edge, tears coursed unnoticed down her cheeks. How she wanted to call him back, tell him it was too much to risk, too dangerous, but she knew deep down it would be useless. Max was going and there wasn’t a single thing she could do.

  The child wasn’t moving now, his body lying awkwardly like a limp rag doll, his legs horribly distorted. But more alarming, from her precarious position Tessa could see the rise of the tide—even the smaller waves were dangerously lapping over the edge of the ledge, each breaking wave threatening to engulf the boy, to carry him out to the clutches of the ocean, away from any hope of survival.

  Max was working his way down, his haste to get there tempered by the slippery rock and the engulfing wind and rain that made each movement a feat in itself. Shale was falling down the face of the cliff, each step resulting in a cascade of rock crashing into the ocean below.

  ‘Wait!’ Tessa’s shout was urgent. The rope, t
he one thread of safety, was causing problems of it own, loosening the softened edges. She watched as Max paused, a storm of shale littering his helmet, his head lowering as it battered him, his arms too occupied with clinging on to act as a shield. Tessa watched helplessly as the hat, his only protection, slipped off, swirling as it fell into the murky depths, bobbing up and down in the angry surf.

  ‘Max is bleeding,’ Tessa shouted. ‘He’s lost his hat.’

  ‘Pull him up.’

  Tessa signalled their decision, but Max couldn’t see her as his eyes were filled with blood, but as he felt the haul of the rope Tessa ignored Max’s frantically shaking head, watching with a mixture of dread and relief as the paramedics hauled him up the cliff face, sensing his reluctance yet knowing there had been no choice.

  No choice at all.

  ‘I was nearly there,’ Max yelled, almost sobbing with frustration as he lay muddied and breathless, thumping his fist into the ground as Ryan pulled off the harness.

  ‘You’ve got a head wound.’ Ryan was pushing a large wad against his forehead which was immediately soaked with the red of Max’s blood.

  ‘Bandage it up, let me have another go. I was almost there!’ But his words were futile and everyone knew it. The rain and blood would render the bandage useless in seconds, and Max’s face wasn’t pale now, it was chalky white with a grey tinge around his lips as he battled with nausea and throbbing pain.

  ‘We’ll just have to wait for back-up.’ Ryan’s voice was sombre. ‘It won’t be much longer.’ How hollow his words sounded, when all present knew that time wasn’t on their side. Max’s effort had been their one and only chance.

  Unless...

  ‘I’ll go.’ Tessa’s words were delivered through chattering teeth, but her eyes were serious.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous—’ Max started, but Ryan looked up from the bandage he was applying and Tessa nodded, confirming her decision.

  ‘I’m going down.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TESSA wasn’t heroic.

  Heroic people rushed in with no thought for themselves, no doubt or wavering.

  Tessa wavered.

  ‘No way.’ Max was struggling to stand. ‘No way!’ he yelled.

  ‘I’m on a rope,’ Tessa was shouting as Ryan strapped her in. ‘They’ll pull me up.’ They would, too. Ryan and Jim would never let her fall—she knew that. This wasn’t a foolhardy, futile attempt, or she wouldn’t have volunteered.

  But Max was having none of it. ‘I’m in charge here.’

  ‘Since when did you pull rank?’ Tessa was shouting. ‘I’ve trained for this! You went down, Max. Why’s it so different for me?’

  Her question went unanswered. She saw the defeat in his face as he watched her step back. It reminded her of relatives left in the interview room, utter helplessness mixed with fear. She knew that feeling—after all, the same panic had engulfed her when Max had gone down.

  * * *

  What goes up must come down. Or was it what goes down must come up?

  Tessa had always thought her life would flash before her eyes, a horrible slow-motion version of all the mistakes she had made, all the ghastly first dates, the fashion faux pas, the first kiss that had ended in tears, rowing with her mum, kissing Max...

  Unfortunately nothing so inviting gripped her as Tessa made the achingly treacherous journey down the cliff face. Instead, she struggled to remember a basic law of physics.

  And if necessary, rewrite it. Tessa was definitely coming up!

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  She chanted it in her mind, focussing only on her feet as she leant back into the harness, her legs like lead, the adrenaline pumping through her veins no match against the harsh elements, her wringing-wet clothes, her already fatigued muscles. Slowly, slowly Tessa inched her way down the cliff, slipping every now and then but righting herself. She was trained for this. Trips out with the chopper had been followed up with lectures and practicals, but plastic walls were no match for reality. Practice harness’s in safe warm gyms nothing like the damp cold leather that cut into her thighs, the rope cutting into her hands, the spray of the surf forcing the breath out of her lungs. But there was an end in sight, the ledge inching closer, looming towards her with surprising speed, the feel of relatively solid ground so welcome that for an instant Tessa closed her eyes in relief.

  Only for an instant.

  He was breathing. That was the first thought that registered as the small boy came into her focus and Tessa crawled towards him.

  Unconscious—that was her second thought.

  The ledge that had protected him and saved him from the clutches of the ocean was protecting Tessa now, too. A jagged elevation providing a wave break, giving her room to work. Grappling at the equipment on her belt, she freed the cervical collar, but she could feel the tug of the rope on her waist and looking up, she saw Max frantically beckoning to warn her he was going to pull her up.

  The collar was vital but, Tessa registered, useless if it meant she couldn’t get him up and, forgoing the usual basic first-aid procedure, Tessa fumbled with the harness, clipping it into place with numb, frozen fingers. Pulling the innate body against her, she strapped him in just as she felt the rope grow taut.

  One winch and she saw the reason behind Max’s decision. The tide had risen even further; lapping around the ledge now, filling the small area she had only just left.

  Two winches into the lift she remembered Ryan’s ominous warning.

  It’s going to hurt, mate.

  It hurt like hell. Buffeted against the rock, Tessa felt every jagged bump as she shielded the limp body as best she could. There had been no time for assessment, no time for anything. The spray was stinging now, filling her nostrils, making each breath painful, but an air of calmness was over her now she knew she was safe, knew she was nearly there.

  But as relieved as she was, as blissfully grateful as Tessa felt, as solid arms pulled her up, she was feminine enough to feel a tinge of indignity as Ryan hauled her harness up over the edge, giving any passing ships and undoubted glimpse of her violet underwear.

  Not that anyone noticed.

  Lying stranded on the beautiful ground, Tessa struggled to catch her breath, coughing in violent, painful spasms. With salt water filling her nose, her eyes, her mouth, it was all she could do to lie there as they hastily unstrapped her patient from the harness, rushing him off to the relative safety of the ambulance, to the shiny equipment and oxygen cylinders he so desperately needed.

  Tessa hadn’t expected a fanfare, pats on the back or rounds of applause when she’d surfaced. She’d known that the patient had to take priority, but some recognition of her efforts wouldn’t have hurt. It was slightly deflating to have to trudge back to the ambulance in the biting rain. Slipping in practically unnoticed, she sat on the seat, watching as they worked on the innate body of their patient.

  Her patient.

  ‘How’s he doing?’

  Her question went unanswered for a full twenty seconds as Max intubated him, slipping a plastic tube into his airway, then taping it securely in place. She felt him relax. With the airway secure, he could now deal with Tessa.

  ‘Wrap a blanket around yourself,’ Max shot at her without looking up.

  Something in his voice told Tessa not to argue. Pulling the scratchy white blanket with fingers that wouldn’t obey, the numbness was replaced by pain as her circulation returned with a vengeance. A bandage had been hastily tied around Max’s head—very hastily, it would appear! It looked more like a bandanna, and his left eye was already starting to close over.

  ‘How is he, Max?’ Tessa heard more than felt her teeth chattering violently. Desperately she struggled to keep her voice normal, to belie the dizziness, the nausea that was starting to engulf her, the full realisation of what had taken place only just starting to surface.

  ‘We need to get him to the hospital. What’s the ETA, Ryan?’

  ‘Fifteen minutes if we ste
p on it.’

  ‘Put your foot down and make it ten,’ Max said tersely, his obvious desire to get there confirming the precariousness of the child’s situation. ‘Let the hospital know. Near drowning, multiple fractures, head injury. Tell them to have the paediatrician and ortho waiting...’ His eyes caught Tessa’s and she waited, for what she didn’t know.

  A half-smile, a nod of appreciation, some acknowledgment at least, but the anger blazing from his eyes floored even Tessa for a moment.

  ‘You’d have done the same, Max,’ Tessa argued, without obvious provocation, his angry silence speaking volumes.

  ‘You ignored a direct order,’ Max retorted, refusing to give an inch.

  ‘Oh, and you’re such a stickler for the rules.’

  Max was staring at the monitor now, his finger resting on the child’s neck, gently assessing the child’s body, but still Tessa braced herself. Max could do ten things at once, and delivering a short sharp lecture wouldn’t break his concentration for a second.

  ‘I got him up, didn’t I?’ Tessa argued to her unresponsive audience. Jim gave an apologetic shrug, refusing to get involved. ‘And with no harm done. I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re fine.’ Lifting his arm, Max gripped the flask of Haemaecel and squeezed it hard. ‘Run through the blood, Jim—this kid needs it.’

  ‘You’re fine?’ he repeated. Two conversations were going on at once and Tessa knew from the angry shift in his voice that she was the recipient of the last two words. ‘You could have been killed down there, you’re covered in bruises and you’ve swallowed half the ocean, but at least you’re “fine.”’

  ‘How dare you?’ Despite her chattering teeth, Tessa managed to put some force into her voice, her words coming out in a strange staccato. ‘How dare you have a go at me for doing exactly the same as you? I was doing my job, Max. I’m trained for this.’

  ‘Ten minutes in a gym does not constitute—’ He was in full swing now. Connecting the blood, Max stood up, holding the bag high so the precious liquid flowed more quickly into the pale limp body, one white tense hand holding the rack above him as the ambulance hurtled through the streets.