Alison Roberts - A Mother for His Family

A fishing boat had reached the boys now and they were being pulled aboard. Another boat was riding the crest of a wave into the lagoon and Sarah could hear shouting from the shore. Islanders were gathering and some were running into the water. They would find the child with such numbers searching but it could well be too late by then. Sarah dragged in as much air as she could and went under the water again.

She didn’t swim forward this time. She stayed in one spot and turned slowly, scanning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, concentrating on areas that were obscured by the tendrils of sea plants.

And there she was. The little girl was floating just above the coral, looking for all the world as though she was peacefully asleep except that her eyes were wide open. Sarah’s heart lurched painfully enough to compete with the agony of lungs screaming for air but the surge of adrenaline was enough to propel her towards the small body. It was no real effort to take hold of the limp form and drag it towards the surface. Please, God, she cried silently, don’t let me be too late.

It wasn’t possible to do more than try a couple of breaths while she was in the water but somehow Sarah summoned the energy to swim rapidly to shore, towing the child under one arm. The villagers fell silent as she ran through the shallows and they stepped back when she laid the girl on the damp sand, opened her airway and felt for a pulse. A woman wailed—a high keening sound that conveyed the very clear message that they knew it was too late.

But it wasn’t. Sarah could feel a faint carotid pulse. She covered the girl’s mouth and nose with her own and transferred a breath. And then another. Her fingers searched the small neck for a pulse again and were rewarded with a stronger beat. And then the limp form of the child twitched. A dark tangle of eyelashes fluttered and her mouth opened. Sarah turned her onto her side at the gagging sound she made and then held the little girl as her body convulsed, expelling the astonishing amount of water that had been swallowed, until the vomiting gave way to a distressed crying.

Sarah had never been happier to hear the sound of a miserable child. She rocked the girl in her arms, knowing that she had tears on her face and a stupidly wide grin as she looked up to find someone better able to give comfort.

There was more than comfort to be found. Both Sarah and the children were whisked back to the village to be fussed over in an atmosphere of having been part of a miracle. Once the small girl was wrapped in a blanket and happily asleep in her mother’s arms, Sarah became the total focus of the islanders’ attention. She could understand very little of what was being said but it was obvious she had made friends for life on this island.

An hour later, with wreaths of flowers crowding her neck, a pile of gifts at her feet and an array of food and drink she couldn’t possibly have coped with, Sarah was relieved to see a new arrival at the village. Somebody had contacted Nasoya, from the dive centre at the resort, and he had come with a boat to collect her. There was no way she could have managed the return swim, quite apart from the pile of gifts. The rescue had been physically exhausting and the emotional aftermath had left her simply wanting to curl up and sleep.

Nasoya wasn’t the only arrival, however. Just behind him came two figures that Sarah had certainly not expected to see.

‘News travels fast in these parts,’ Ben told her. ‘How does it feel to be a heroine?’

Sarah extracted herself from Tori’s hug. ‘Tiring.’ She smiled. ‘Can you check on little Milika? She seems OK but she came very close to drowning and she may well have some fluid in her lungs.’

‘That’s what I’m here for.’ Ben held up the kit he was carrying. ‘I just wanted to check that you were all right first.’

‘I’m fine,’ Sarah assured them both. ‘All I need is a quiet spot in the sun to rest.’

A short time later the boat sped back to the resort island over a calm sea that gave no hint of the kind of horror it had engendered only a short time ago. Sarah sat quietly, still exhausted but very happy. Ben had examined Milika thoroughly and pronounced her none the worse for her ordeal.

‘It was a dry drowning, thank goodness. First hint of cold water gave her laryngeal spasm. I doubt that even a drop got into her lungs. She must have swallowed a fair bit, though.’

‘She did. I’ve never seen such a small child throw up such a large quantity of fluid.’

‘All she needs now is a good rest. As you do.’ Ben’s glance had only been that of a concerned physician, so why did it feel like so much more? ‘Are you sure you don’t need a check-up?’

Sarah turned away, flushing with something rather more than embarrassment. ‘I’m sure. I’ll spend the afternoon resting and I’ll be absolutely fine.’

When they arrived back at the resort’s landing jetty, Tori helped to gather up the gifts, which included a traditional grass skirt.

‘I can just see you in this,’ she told Sarah. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

‘You’ll be able to wear it tonight,’ Ben added.

Sarah turned at his confident tone. ‘Why?’

‘Didn’t you hear all the planning going on around you? There’s going to be a huge party to celebrate. There’ll be two or three villages involved by the time all the friends and relatives get the news.’

‘I can’t go to something like that,’ Sarah protested. ‘It’s their celebration.’

‘They’re doing it to honour you,’ Ben said. His dark eyes caught and held Sarah’s. ‘You saved the life of a child, Sarah. They’re doing this to thank you.’

‘But—’

‘They’ve already killed a pig,’ Tori put in. She shuddered. ‘I saw them choosing the fattest one they could find and then leading it away.’

‘They’ll roast the pig,’ Ben said. ‘But most of the food will be cooked in a traditional underground oven. A lovo. It’s an experience not everyone gets.’

‘But—’

‘I’ll come and collect you at seven o’clock.’ Ben was still holding Sarah’s gaze.

‘You’re coming, too?’ Suddenly, the invitation was much less daunting.

‘Of course.’ Ben’s smile looked almost smug. ‘I’ve been delegated to accompany you so, please, don’t embarrass me by refusing to come.’

Tori aimed a gentle kick at Sarah’s ankle. ‘Sharks,’ she murmured.

Ben looked nonplussed. ‘You don’t have to worry about sharks,’ he said. ‘There’ll be a lot of boats going over.’ His grin was disarming. ‘We don’t expect you to swim.’

‘Am I invited?’ Tori asked.

‘Of course.’ But Ben was still watching Sarah. ‘It won’t be much of a party without a guest of honour, though. How ’bout it, Sarah?’

‘Were you serious? About me wearing the grass skirt?’

‘It’s up to you. You’re an honorary member of that village for the rest of your life and they’ll be dressed up. They’d be very proud if you did wear it.’

Ben’s gaze suggested he would be proud as well and Sarah found herself nodding.

‘OK, then. We’ll see you at seven o’clock.’

* * *

‘You’re not really going to wear it, are you?’ Tori eyed the wrap-around skirt dubiously. ‘It’s awfully see-through when you move.’

‘I’ll wear something underneath.’ The deep sleep Sarah had had for several hours that afternoon had revived her completely. Now showered, with her hair washed and gleaming softly as she brushed it dry in the sun, she was ready for the new experience that the evening promised to offer. Not only ready, she was going to embrace it completely. ‘I’ll wear it over that red skirt I’ve got.’

The mid-calf-length, soft muslin skirt was perfect. Cut in flared panels, it fitted closely around Sarah’s hips and widened to drape in folds that did nothing to interfere with the fall of the dried grass of the island skirt she fastened on top. The flash of colour that showed when she moved was pleasing and Sarah chose a simple white halter-neck top to go with it.