She did know, however, that the added weight of her clothes would slow her down and eventually drag her under. With some difficulty, she wriggled out of her cargo pants. Her bare legs felt much lighter. Perhaps she would be able to do this.
Swimming with strong, regular strokes to discourage any sharks that might be on the hunt for easy prey, Jade began the long journey back to shore.
She had no idea how long it took her. Perhaps an hour, perhaps more. In that dark water, time telescoped into infinity and the distance seemed endless. Despite her earlier intentions of showing strength, there were times when she flailed in the water, howling as she endured agonising cramp in her feet, and other times when she floated on her back, panting hard, her quivering muscles simply unable to continue without rest.
When she eventually felt sand under her feet, she tried but failed to stand up. Inch by excruciating inch, she managed to drag herself out of the water and onto dry land before she finally passed out.
39
‘She’s coming round. Theunis, come over here, quick! She’s coming round.’
Voices pierced Jade’s head, dragging her back to consciousness.
Footsteps, running over the sand towards her.
A man’s voice. ‘Are you hurt?’
She lifted her head up from the edge of the towel that somebody must have placed underneath it, realising that the rest of the towel was wrapped around her. Her skin felt sandy and her cold, wet hair flopped over her face in thick rats’ tails. In the dim light cast by a weak torch, she saw two people squatting in front of her—or rather, two pairs of shoes. They were Crocs. Pink and beige. One pair smaller, one larger.
With arms that felt utterly leaden, she pushed herself a little further up and looked into the concerned faces of her would-be rescuers.
‘What happened to you?’ the woman asked.
‘I fell out of a boat,’ Jade said.
‘And they didn’t stop for you!’
‘Are you sure you can move all your limbs? Nothing is broken?’ This question from the man.
‘Theunis, can’t you see she’s exhausted? And probably suffering from exposure. She could have drowned out there.’ The woman bent down and grasped one of Jade’s hands in both of hers. Her skin felt very warm. ‘You need to lie down, dear. Just lie there quietly until the ambulance arrives.’
‘No, honestly, I’m fine. I don’t need an ambulance.’ Pulling away from the woman, Jade tried to stand up, but her legs were as limp as soft spaghetti and she would have fallen right back down onto the sand if Theunis hadn’t grabbed her first.
‘We’ve already called them. And you do need to go to hospital. Come on. Rest here while you wait.’ He lowered her carefully back down and checked his watch, while the lady wrapped the towel around her again. ‘Should be here any minute, I think. I’m going to go up to the road and look out for them.’
Jade clutched the towel hard. Under her sodden T-shirt, she was shuddering with cold and her skin was tightly pimpled with gooseflesh.
‘I’m so sorry, love, but we didn’t have any other clothes in the car. All we had was the towel,’ the lady said apologetically.
‘That’s OK.’ She forced the words out through chattering teeth.
‘Theunis, look, they’re here.’
Bright headlights accompanied by a red flashing light swung off the main road and headed down towards the parking lot, stopping next to the car that Jade guessed belonged to the couple who had found her. Carrying a powerful torch, the paramedic walked briskly down the concrete steps to the beach, with Theunis excitedly explaining how he and his wife had found her.
A minute later, the paramedic was crouched down beside her, placing his kit bag carefully on the sand before balancing the torch on it. ‘Hello there. How are you …?’
Upon hearing his voice, Jade looked up in surprise. It was the man who’d arrived at the scene after David’s shooting; the one who’d told Pillay that she had saved his life.
He recognised her too, and looked her over in blank amazement.
‘Are you having a run of bad luck?’ he asked after a short pause.
‘You could say that,’ Jade said.
The paramedic raised an eyebrow, then nodded. ‘I could, I suppose.’
‘She fell off a boat,’ Theunis said, shifting from foot to foot in his khaki Crocs. ‘They didn’t even stop for her.’
‘Fell off a boat,’ the paramedic echoed. Jade thought she could detect a hint of irony in his tone.
‘Do you need us for anything else?’ Theunis asked. ‘Because we’ve got to get back to the children …’
‘Go right ahead,’ the paramedic said. Jade managed to unclench her teeth long enough to utter a heartfelt thanks to the couple who’d found her. Her shivers were starting to reduce as she warmed up. She wriggled off the beach towel, which the paramedic replaced with a blanket, and passed the towel back to her rescuers. Theunis shook the sand off it, and then they turned away and made their way back to their car.
The medic took her pulse, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm, inflated it and peered down at the reading.
‘How long were you in the water for?’
‘A couple of hours, I think.’
‘Do you know how you got this cut on your left wrist?’
‘From wire.’
The paramedic’s eyebrow arched upwards once more.
‘I can walk,’ Jade said. ‘I’m OK, really. This isn’t a medical emergency. I was just exhausted from having to swim so far. I need to rest a bit longer, and I need a sugary drink.’
‘Mild exposure would be my guess. But if you can walk, then come up to the ambulance with me.’
Once again, Jade struggled to her feet. Her spaghetti-legs weren’t working much better than they had before, but this time at least they felt al dente, rather than completely overcooked. Leaning heavily on the paramedic’s arm, she made her way carefully up the beach.
The paramedic opened the door of the ambulance. ‘Get in the back.’
‘I said I’m fine.’
‘Just get in the back and sit on the bench. There’s a heater running in there.’
Warm air suffused the small space. Jade climbed in and sat gratefully down on the bench. The paramedic disappeared briefly and returned with a bottle of Energade and a Bar One.
‘Emergency medical supplies,’ he said, with a smile.
‘Thank you.’
‘Your friend, the Indian guy, he made it to the hospital. He went straight into surgery. I can’t be one hundred per cent sure, but I think he’ll come through it OK. He seems like a strong guy.’
‘He is. Thanks for getting him there alive.’
Jade downed half the bottle in one go. She bit into the Bar One, feeling thick chocolate crush under her teeth, then softer toffee. Sugar. Energy. Exactly what she needed. Her body screamed for more.
‘I don’t know what to do with you,’ the paramedic said. ‘I don’t know what you’re involved with. I’d ask you, but I guess you won’t tell me.’
Her mouth crammed with chocolate, Jade could only shrug in response.
‘I’m scared if I let you go, the next call-out I get will be to take you to the morgue.’
Jade blinked, swallowed her mouthful and looked into his concerned brown eyes.
‘There won’t be another call-out,’ she promised.
‘You know, for your own sake, I should take you to casualty and book you in. Get them to put you under sedation for the night.’
‘You could do that,’ Jade agreed. ‘But if you do, there’s a good chance I won’t be alive by morning. And nor will my friend.’
‘A hospital is a secure place …’
‘Are you willing to bet two of your patients’ lives on that? Given that we were ambushed earlier today by a man wearing a perfectly authentic Metro Police uniform.’
Sitting in the warmth, Jade was starting to feel strength seeping back into her limbs. She wasn’t back to normal, not near
ly. But halfway there, perhaps. She took another swig of Energade to try and speed things up.
The paramedic tightened his lips. He glanced down at Jade’s bare legs and feet. His gaze moved over the damp T-shirt clinging to her body and her wet, sandy hair, and he sighed.
He climbed out of the rear doors and went round to the front of the ambulance. Jade heard him using the radio to call into headquarters.
‘False alarm,’ he said. ‘The patient didn’t need any medical attention after all. I’m going to head back to base now.’
He came back round to where Jade was sitting.
‘I’m going back to the hospital to wait for another call-out. If you want to ride along, you can. It’s illegal, of course. If anyone asks, I’ll deny you were ever in my vehicle.’ He spread his arms in a gesture that eloquently conveyed the fact that this wasn’t the only illegal activity going on that night in Richards Bay.
‘Thanks,’ Jade said.
The paramedic didn’t reply; he just slammed the back doors. Seconds later, the ambulance started up and drove away.
The journey to the hospital took ten minutes and, by the time they got there, Jade’s T-shirt was almost dry and the back of the ambulance was starting to feel like a sauna. She felt the vehicle rock as it negotiated the two speed bumps just before the turnoff to the hospital. A left turn took them through the main gate. A few metres more and then the ambulance stopped.
What to do now?
She didn’t want to be seen climbing out of the back of the vehicle, because that would get the paramedic into trouble. But she also didn’t want to waste any more time. Another problem was her bare legs. She would have to beg, borrow or steal a pair of trousers, and she was sure she could do that somewhere in Richards Bay General Hospital. The problem would be getting into the hospital looking like she did now.
The rattle of the ambulance’s back doors opening made her jump. The paramedic tossed a plastic bag inside.
‘This is the best I can do for you,’ he said. ‘When you hear me knock on the side of the ambulance, it’s safe to climb out.’
Jade looked inside the bag and found a pair of black Lycra three-quarter-length gym pants.
‘Thanks,’ she said, surprised.
‘Couldn’t find any shoes.’
‘No problem. I’ll be OK without shoes.’
Last year, Jade had managed to grab a woman in the act of fleeing a crime scene. The lady had been stunned during the struggle, but as an added precaution, Jade had removed her court shoes and thrown them out of reach.
After the incident, Jade had realised that she herself could also have been effectively immobilised that way. It didn’t make sense to her, when she thought about it. As tough and fit as she had conditioned herself to be, if you took away her running shoes, she couldn’t have outpaced a toddler. This was no good.
So she’d started jogging without shoes. The first few outings had been little more than tentative limps down the rough road from her cottage. Gradually, her feet had toughened up. She wasn’t quite at the stage where she could run her full cross-country route barefoot, but she was almost there.
Shoes were not a problem. The lack of a weapon was a more serious issue.
‘Do you have a spare knife, by any chance?’ she asked the paramedic. She saw him shake his head in reflexive denial.
‘Are you sure?’ she said again.
This time, he thought about it.
‘I can’t give you one of my knives,’ he said. ‘Too risky. It’s standard issue from the company I work for. But I can give you something with a blade. It’s not much, but better than nothing. Nobody will miss it—it was a freebie. They handed out hundreds of them as gifts, and this one’s been lying here for years.’
Leaning into the back of the ambulance, he rummaged around in one of the lockers and then handed Jade a small penknife.
It was so tiny it could have fitted into a Christmas cracker. A miniature oval-shaped handle with a blue and white logo, and a shiny, slender two-and-a-half-inch blade.
It was practically a toy. It couldn’t have sliced the tenderest, most perfectly cooked piece of fillet, never mind pierced human skin. It was useless for anything except perhaps cutting through a thin length of fabric.
If Jade was attacked, the best she could hope for would be that her assailant died of laughter when he saw her defence weapon.
‘I appreciate it,’ she said.
The paramedic closed the ambulance door and Jade wriggled into the Lycra pants. She pushed the knife into the waistband. A while later, she heard a knock on the side of the ambulance.
She scrambled out. The car park was empty and the paramedic was standing a few paces away with his back towards her.
Jade’s number one rule for getting anywhere without being stopped was simply to move purposefully. In a business-like, but not aggressive, way; as if she knew exactly where she was going and was in rather a hurry to get there.
That attitude had certainly given her access to quite a few places where she would otherwise have been denied entry. The fast walk also helped, of course.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and headed into the hospital building. One way or another, she was going to see if she could get to David.
Visiting hours were long over. With a shock, she saw that the clock on the wall was ticking its way towards eleven P.M. Where had the night gone? It was slipping away like sand through her fingers and, with every hour that passed, her chances of catching up with the criminals were growing smaller.
A uniformed receptionist was at the front desk, head bent over a magazine. A nurse was standing beside her, looking through a pile of files. To Jade’s surprise, they didn’t so much as give her a second glance. It was as if the women hadn’t even noticed her at all.
Puzzled, because it wasn’t usually so easy, Jade continued through the foyer and into the main corridor of the hospital.
She realised what had caused the foyer staff’s inattention when she saw a small group of casually dressed people walking down the corridor in the direction of the exit doors. They were wearing name tags and carrying gift bags with the logo of a drug company emblazoned on the front.
There had been a function or launch of some kind at the hospital, and guests—the last of a larger gathering, perhaps—were now leaving. One or two of them cast curious glances at Jade’s bare feet, but most of them had their sights firmly set on getting home.
Glancing at the signs above her, Jade turned in the direction of the ICU. More of the departing crowd passed her. Some casually dressed, some smartly dressed, only a few in uniform.
And then a well-groomed brunette wearing a cream-coloured skirt and jacket called out a name she recognised.
‘Dr Abrahams!’
Abrahams?
The hospital chairman; the man who might be able to tell her more about her mother?
Jade stopped and looked.
The brunette click-clacked her way towards a group of business-suited men further down the corridor. She was carrying a briefcase in one hand and, in the other, a white A4-sized envelope with the logo of the same pharmaceutical company on the top right-hand corner.
A drugs rep, then.
And the tall, silver-haired man who stopped, turned and greeted her warmly—he must be the same Dr Abrahams the receptionist had told her about. The retired doctor who was now the chairman of the hospital board, and the person that Mrs Koekemoer had said knew the secret about where her mother was buried.
Although the receptionist had said she would pass on Jade’s details to him, the doctor obviously hadn’t bothered to contact her and probably never would. This might be the only chance she had to learn more about Elise de Jong.
The rep hadn’t lingered. She was already walking away. Dr Abrahams, now holding the envelope she had given him and engrossed in conversation with one of the other suits, was making his way towards the exit.
‘Dr Abrahams,’ she said quietly, as he reached her.
&n
bsp; Once again, the silver-haired man stopped. He didn’t look nearly as pleased to see Jade as he had when he saw the drugs rep. He looked down his hooked nose at her, the same way a bird of prey atop a crag might consider a rabbit that it wasn’t too interested in eating. His demeanour made Jade remember everything she had ever heard about famous surgeons and their egos.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m Jade de Jong. I left a message for you a couple of days ago.’
‘Jade …’ His frown deepened when he noticed her messy hair and bare feet. Suddenly, Jade wondered whether the receptionist had given him the message at all.
‘My mother died in this hospital, a long time ago. I’m down here on holiday and I thought I’d try to find out more about her. I never knew her, you see. I was a baby at the time.’
Now Dr Abrahams was staring at her with an expression on his face that suggested she might benefit from a day or two in the psychiatric ward. A couple of his business-suited colleagues were giving her the same look. She even heard one of them chuckle.
‘I’m afraid that really is impossible. Our records don’t even go back that far. If she’d died in the last five years or so, we could have pulled something out for you. But beyond that, no. I’m sorry, but you’re asking for something that cannot be done.’
The doctor pushed back his jacket sleeve with a neatly manicured finger and checked the time on his gold Rolex, making the gesture sweepingly obvious.
Jade stood her ground.
‘Mrs Koekemoer said you would know something.’
‘The old maternity ward head? You’ve spoken to her?’
‘Yes. Just this morning, in fact.’
The chairman shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. This function ran late and I need to be on my way now. I don’t know what information I could provide that Koekemoer couldn’t.’
‘Nor do I. But she said you’d remember.’
Abrahams gave an impatient sigh.
The Fallen Page 20
