Marion Lennox - From Christmas To Forever?

To come home for Christmas …

She wasn’t going home for Christmas. She was staying in Wombat Valley. The thought was enough to steady her.

If she fainted then she’d fall and they’d send her back to Sydney in a body bag and her mother would have her fabulous funeral …

Not. Not, not, not.

‘I’ve been bitten by a snake,’ she muttered, with as much strength and dignity as she could muster. Which wasn’t actually very much at all. She still had her head between her knees and she daren’t move. ‘It was brown with stripes and it bit my ankle. And I know it’s a hell of a time to tell you, but I need to say … I’m also a Type One diabetic. So I’m not sure whether this is a hypo or snake bite but, if I fall, don’t let my mother bury me in pink. Promise.’

‘I promise,’ Hugo said and then a yellow-suited figure was beside her, and her only objection was that he was blocking her view of Hugo.

It sort of seemed important that she see Hugo.

‘She has a snake bite on her ankle,’ Hugo was saying urgently. ‘And she needs glucose. Probable hypo. Get the cradle back down here as fast as you can, and bring glucagon. While we wait, I have a pressure bandage here in the cabin. If you can swing her closer we’ll get her leg immobilised.’

‘You’re supposed to be on holiday,’ Polly managed while Yellow Suit figured out how to manoeuvre her closer to Hugo.

‘Like that’s going to happen now,’ Hugo said grimly. ‘Let’s get the hired help safe and worry about holidays later.’

FROM THERE THINGS moved fast. The team on the road was reassuringly professional. Polly was strapped into the cradle, her leg firmly wrapped, then she was lifted up the cliff with an abseiler at either end of the cradle.

She was hardly bumped, but she felt shaky and sick. If she was in an emergency situation she’d be no help at all.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed, for Hugo had climbed up after her and he was leaning over the stretcher, his lean, strong face creased in concern. ‘What a wuss. I didn’t mean …’

‘To be confronted by two guys about to fall down a cliff. To need to climb down and secure the truck and save them. To bring them lifesaving equipment and get bitten by a snake doing it. I don’t blame you for apologising, Dr Hargreaves. Wuss doesn’t begin to describe it.’

‘I should …’

‘Shut up,’ he said, quite kindly. ‘Polly, the snake … you said it had stripes.’

‘Brown with faint stripes.’

‘Great for noticing.’

‘It bit me,’ she said with dignity. ‘I always take notice of things that bite me.’

‘Excellent. Okay, sweetheart, we have a plan …’

‘I’m not your sweetheart!’ She said it with vehemence and she saw his brows rise in surprise—and also humour.

‘No. Inappropriate. Sexist. Apologies. Okay, Dr Hargreaves, we have a plan. We’re taking you to the Wombat Valley Hospital—it’s only a mile down the road. There we’ll fill you up with antivenin. The snake you describe is either a tiger or a brown …’

‘Tiger’s worse.’

‘We have antivenin for both. You’re reacting well with glucose. I think the faintness was a combination—the adrenaline went out of the situation just as the snake hit and the shock was enough to send you over the edge.’

‘I did not go over the edge!’

‘I do need to get my language right,’ he said and grinned. ‘No, Dr Hargreaves, you did not go over the edge, for which I’m profoundly grateful. And now we’ll get the antivenin in …’

‘Which one?’

‘I have a test kit at the hospital and I’ve already taken a swab.’

‘And if it’s a rare … I don’t know … zebra python with no known antivenin …?’

‘Then I’ll eat my hat.’ And then he took her hand and held, and he smiled down at her and his smile …

It sort of did funny things to her. She’d been feeling woozy before. Now she was feeling even woozier.

‘We need to move,’ he said, still holding her hand strongly. ‘We’ll take you to the hospital now, but once we have the antivenin on board we’ll transfer you to Sydney. We’ve already called in the medical transfer chopper. Horace has cracked ribs. Marg’s demanding specialists. I’m more than happy that he be transferred, and I’m imagining that you’ll be better in Sydney as well. You have cuts and bruises all over you, plus a load of snake venom. You can recover in Sydney and then spend Christmas with your family.’

Silence.

He was still holding her hand. She should let it go, she thought absently. She should push herself up to standing, put her hands on her hips and let him have it.

She was no more capable of doing such a thing than flying, but she gripped his hand so tightly her cuts screamed in protest. She’d bleed on him, she thought absently, but what was a little gore when what she had to say was so important?

‘I am not going back to Sydney,’ she hissed and she saw his brow snap down in surprise.

‘Polly …’

‘Don’t Polly me. If you think I’ve come all this way … if you think I’ve crawled down cliffs and ruined a perfectly good dress and scratched my hands and hurt my bum and then been bitten by a vicious, lethal snake you don’t even know the name of yet … if you think I’m going to go through all that and still get to spend Christmas in Sydney …’

‘You don’t want to?’ he asked cautiously and she stared at him as if he had a kangaroo loose in his top paddock.

‘In your dreams. I accepted a job in Wombat Valley and that’s where I’m staying. You do have antivenin?’

‘I … yes.’

‘And competent staff to watch my vital signs for the next twenty-four hours?’

‘Yes, but …’

‘But nothing,’ she snapped. ‘You employed me, Dr Denver, and now you’re stuck with me. Send Horace wherever you like, but I’m staying here.’

The transfer to the hospital was swift and efficient. Joe, his nurse administrator, was pre-warned and had the test kit and antivenin ready. Joe was more than capable of setting up an IV line. Wishing he was two doctors and not one, Hugo left Polly in Joe’s care while he organised an X-ray of Horace’s chest. He needed to make sure a rib wasn’t about to pierce a lung.

The X-ray showed three cracked ribs, one that looked unstable. It hadn’t punctured his lung, though, and Horace’s breathing seemed secure. If he was kept immobile, he could be taken to Sydney.

‘You’re not sending Dr Hargreaves with him?’ Mary, his second-in-command nurse, demanded as he left Horace with the paramedics and headed for Polly.

He’d been torn … Polly, Horace, Polly, Horace …

Joe would have called him if there was a change. Still, his strides were lengthening.

‘She won’t go,’ he told Mary. ‘She wants to stay.’

‘Oh, Hugo.’ Mary was in her sixties, a grandma, and a bit weepy at the best of times. Now her kindly eyes filled with tears. ‘You’ll be looking after her instead of going to the beach. Of all the unfair things …’

‘It’s not unfair. It’s just unfortunate. She can hardly take over my duties now. She’ll need to be watched for twenty-four hours for reaction to the bite as well as reaction to the antivenin. The last thing we need is anaphylactic shock and it’ll take days for the venom to clear her system completely. Meanwhile, have you seen her hands? Mary, she slid down a nylon cord to bring me equipment. She was scratched climbing to secure the truck. She was bitten because …’

‘Because she didn’t have sensible shoes on,’ Mary said with asperity. The nurse was struggling to keep up but speed wasn’t interfering with indignation. ‘Did you see her shoes? Sergeant Myer picked them up on the roadside and brought them in. A more ridiculous pair of shoes for a country doctor to be wearing …’