Alison Roberts - Australia - Handsome Heroes

‘That’s still no reason for you to be involved.’

‘Dammit, Gina, he’s my son.’

She thought about that while a mile—maybe two—disappeared under their wheels.

‘Yes, Cal, he is,’ she said at last. ‘But you need to think of the whole picture. CJ’s happy thinking Paul is his daddy. Are you sure you want to change that?’ She hesitated. ‘And I don’t want to upset what’s between you and Emily.’

‘There’s nothing between me and Emily.’

She sighed. ‘Of course there’s not.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘There’s nothing between you and anyone.’

‘You and I—’

‘Were lovers,’ she said flatly. ‘But we weren’t committed.’

‘Because you ran.’

‘I had no choice and you know it. Don’t play the abandoned lover on me, Cal. You know you don’t need me emotionally. You never have and you never will. And CJ…’

‘What about CJ?’ He was practically glowering.

‘If you acknowledge him now, then you need to do commitment. There’s no way you can say proudly you’re his daddy and then not see him again.’

‘You think that’s what I want?’

‘I don’t know what you want. Do you?’

No answer.

Cal needed to concentrate now. They were approaching a rocky outcrop and the road was no longer clear. The country was growing rougher.

Kids were drag racing here? Gina thought, flinching inside at what lay ahead.

‘Little fools,’ Cal muttered, and she knew that his thoughts had veered back to what lay ahead as well.

‘Locals, do you think?’

‘Nothing surer,’ he said grimly. ‘There is a settlement just inland from here. Many of the local indigenous people are tribal—they live as they’ve lived for thousands of years. But the ones in the settlements…’

He broke off and concentrated on another corner. But then he started again.

‘They’re so disadvantaged,’ he said savagely, and all at once his hands were white on the steering-wheel. His voice was passionate. ‘Loss of their culture has left them in no man’s land. There’s nothing for them to look forward to, nothing for them to hold to. And they’re self-destructing because of it.’

‘I know,’ she whispered.

‘Yeah,’ he said roughly. ‘I remember that you do. When you were in Townsville you had such plans. You seemed to care so much. But off you went, back home to be a cardiologist.’

‘That’s not fair.’

But he wasn’t listening. ‘You know, your breakfast group disintegrated as soon as you left. The medics were stretched as far as they could go already. There was no funding and no enthusiasm for taking it forward.’

‘You’re blaming me that it ended?’

‘You never should have started it.’

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have,’ she said through gritted teeth.

It had been a small enough thing that she’d done. She’d taken a group of teenage girls—some pregnant, all in danger of being pregnant—and she’d invited them for breakfast. They’d met in a local café down by the river twice a week. Boys had been excluded. They’d swum, they’d eaten the huge breakfast Gina had managed to scrounge from local businesses—a breakfast of things the kids hardly saw for the rest of the week, such as milk and meat and fresh fruit. Then they’d played with cosmetics and beauty products, also provided by the businesses Gina had badgered. She’d worked really hard to keep their interest, inviting guests such as hairstylists, models, cosmeticians—anyone the girls would have thought cool.

She’d also sneaked in the odd gynaecologist and dietician and welfare support person, all selected for their cool factor as well as for the advice they’d been able to give.

The girls had thought it was wonderful—an exclusive club for twelve-to sixteen-year-olds. It had been working brilliantly, Gina thought. Too brilliantly. Only Gina knew what a pang it had cost her to walk away.

But she hadn’t been alone in her enthusiasm. ‘You had a boys’ group,’ she said softly. ‘Did you walk away, too?’

‘I moved up here.’

‘You mean you did walk away.’ She bit her lip. ‘Cal, I had an excuse. I was going home to care for Paul. What about you?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘No,’ she whispered. She stared out into the darkness, thinking of what she and Cal had started. What they could have achieved if they’d stayed together.

Maybe Cal was right. Don’t get involved.

‘These kids in the crash,’she said tentatively into the silence.

‘I know who’ll they’ll be,’ he told her. ‘The younger teenagers on the settlement up here are bored stupid.’

‘So bored they kill themselves?’

‘They drive ancient cars. Wrecks. They get them going any way they can, and they drive like maniacs. This won’t be pretty.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘I think we both know it.’

It wasn’t the least bit pretty.

They rounded the last bend and knew at once what they were in for. Two cars had smashed into each other, with no last-minute swerve to lessen the impact. The vehicles were compacted, a grotesque accordion of twisted metal.

They’d have been playing chicken, Gina thought dully. She’d seen this happen before. Two carloads of kids driving straight at each other, each driver daring each other to be the last to swerve.

No one had swerved.

The first ambulance was already there and more cars were pulling up beside it. People were clutching each other, staring in horror as they stumbled out of their cars to face the crash. Bad news travelled fast. Parents would have been wrenched out of their quiet evening and were now staring at tragedy.

Two dead? There were two shrouded bundles by the roadside. A young policeman was trying fruitlessly to keep people back. Voices were already keening their sorrow, wailing distress and disbelief.

‘Cal!’ The older of the two paramedics who’d come with the first ambulance was running over to meet then. ‘There are two still trapped in one of the cars and I’m scared we’re losing them. And there’s a kid on the roadside with major breathing problems. Plus the rest.’

‘You take the breathing,’ Cal told Gina. ‘I’ll take the car.’

He was bracing himself. Gina could see it. His eyes were withdrawing into the place he kept his pain. He’d do his job with efficiency and skill, and he’d care while he worked, but he’d not let himself become involved.

‘I’ll do whatever needs doing,’ she said, in a voice that wasn’t too steady. ‘But maybe I’ll feel pain along the way.’

‘And I won’t?’

‘Who knows?’ She was hauling on protective gear with speed. ‘I knew this job once, and I thought I knew you. But we’ve come a long way. How thick have you grown your armour now, Cal?’

She didn’t wait for an answer.

It was a night to forget.

Gina worked with skills she’d almost forgotten, but her skills returned because if they didn’t then kids died.

The girl with breathing problems appeared to have fractured ribs, with a possible punctured lung. She was Gina’s first priority. Gina set up oxygen and manoeuvred her into a position where she seemed to be a good colour with normal oxygen saturation. She left her with the younger paramedic—Frank—and moved on to the next priority.

There were fractured limbs, deep lacerations, shock…That was bad enough, but Cal had allocated himself the true horror. Two kids still trapped.

One of them died under his hands five minutes after they arrived.

There was a moment’s appalled silence—a moment where she glanced across and saw Cal’s shoulders slump in defeat and despair—and then they all had to keep working.