Anne Fraser - Doctor on the Red Carpet

‘Okay.’ The words ‘Good luck’ hovered on her lips, but she bit them back. Somehow she didn’t think Kendrick would need it. Instead she made her way over to the base of the cliff and behind a toughened plexiglass screen. He’d certainly thought of everything.

From the bottom, the cliff looked even higher. Kendrick was right. If he didn’t manage to get out of the falling car in time, or if his parachute failed, she doubted she’d be able to do much to help him. There was a very real possibility he could be killed. Her blood ran cold. But he was a professional. This was what he was trained to do.

After a tense hour and a half they were ready. The car rolled over the lip of the cliff and into space. An explosion splintered the sky, sending sparks of dazzling yellow and orange outwards and sizzling towards the canyon floor. A collective gasp went up from the onlookers, but still the cameras kept on rolling. After what seemed like an eternity, but could only have been a second or two, a figure clambered out of the rear window and launched itself away from the falling car. Elizabeth couldn’t have pulled her eyes away even if she’d wanted to. There were a few heart-stopping seconds as the figure fell, hurtling towards the ground, and there was no sign of Kendrick’s parachute opening. Elizabeth tensed, positive that the sound of the car crashing to the ground was going to be followed by the thud of his body. Only when his parachute whooshed open did she realise she’d been holding her breath. Kendrick landed lightly on his feet, several metres away from the burning wreck and only a short distance from her.

He sketched a bow as everyone applauded.

Relieved that for this scene at least her services hadn’t been needed, Elizabeth crossed over to Kendrick, who was divesting himself of his parachute.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

He turned glinting eyes on her. She could tell that he’d got a kick out of what he’d just done.

‘Perfect,’ he said.

‘That was crazy,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why you let Philip talk you into doing it. No film is worth dying for.’

His eyes narrowed and he frowned at her. ‘Relax, Doc,’ he said.

Although his tone was light, there was an undercurrent of steel in his words. ‘I have no intention of getting myself—or anyone else on my team—killed. We spend a lot of time discussing and planning the stunts beforehand to eliminate as much risk as possible. Then we deal with what’s left. It’s what stuntmen and women do. If you don’t like it, perhaps this isn’t the job for you.’

He looked over the top of her head. ‘Hey, Josh, Immy. What d’you think? Did Philip get the shot he needed?’

He walked away, leaving Elizabeth feeling dismissed.

Who was he to tell her what job did or didn’t suit her? But she had to admit he was right. Her job wasn’t to worry about Kendrick or to tell the film producers what they could or couldn’t do. Her job was to keep them alive long enough to get them to hospital should anything happen.

Filming over for the day, Elizabeth knew that this was the time that the cast and crew would be most likely to look for her should they require a medical opinion. She took a ride on the first truck heading back to the camp and, sure enough, she was kept busy until dinnertime, seeing members of the crew who had sore throats or sunburn. Nothing too serious and nothing that required more than some painkillers or advice.

When she was certain there were no more patients, she locked up. If anyone needed her out of hours, they knew where to find her.

She let herself back into her trailer and picked up the photo from the bedside table.

Charlie was staring into the camera, a small smile on her face. It had been taken just before she’d lost control of her neck muscles, but even then they had been deteriorating, giving her a lopsided look. But to Elizabeth her daughter looked beautiful.

Elizabeth started to unpack. On top of her clothes was Charlie’s favourite soft toy, the ear lightly chewed and missing an eye. A crushing pain squeezed Elizabeth’s chest as memories rushed back. Her daughter’s little face looking up at her with incomprehension that Mummy wasn’t able to help, the feel of her child’s tiny frame in her arms as Charlie lost more and more weight. The last time she had held Charlie, knowing that she was slipping away and there was nothing, nothing anyone could do and that no amount of love or denial could stop her from dying. And then later the small white casket being lowered into the ground, the disbelief that she would have to live out the rest of her life without her daughter.

Elizabeth brought the soft toy to her face and inhaled the still lingering scent of her daughter.

In the weeks following Charlie’s funeral Elizabeth had been almost unable to function. She’d wandered around the small house, alone and aching to touch her child. Just once more.

The nights were the worst. She’d find herself curled up in her daughter’s bed, soaking the pillow with her tears. But eventually she’d known she had to do something. When she’d seen this job advertised it had seemed perfect. No chance of coming into contact with children, a limited contract that would give her breathing space to decide what to do with the rest of her life, and an environment where people knew nothing of her past and were unlikely to be interested.

As soon as she’d been offered the job and accepted, she’d put her terraced cottage on the market. With a bit of luck it would be sold before she had finished here. With Charlie gone, Elizabeth couldn’t bear to live in the home that had once held such happiness. She didn’t know if she could even ever set foot inside it again.

Her throat ached as she remembered sitting on the floor of Charlie’s bedroom, tears pouring down her face as she’d packed away Charlie’s clothes and toys. She hadn’t been able to pack away the soft toy. Together with the photo, it was all she had brought with her to remind her of her darling daughter. Not that she needed anything to remind her of Charlie. Every second of Charlie’s too-short life was burned into her soul. She kissed the photo one more time before replacing it on her bedside table.

Although so far her day had been mostly straightforward and the work nothing compared to caring for a severely disabled child twenty-four hours a day, Elizabeth was tired. But for once it was a nice tiredness. She had been able to forget for a few hours. The thought sent another shot of pain through her. Not that she wanted to or could forget her baby. Despite Charlie’s disabilities Elizabeth would have given everything she had to have her daughter back.

But that wasn’t to be. She had somehow to make some sort of life for herself, even if at the moment she didn’t know what that could be.

THE weather over the next couple of days continued to be hot. The nights were thankfully cooler but still Elizabeth found it difficult to sleep. When she did it was to dream of Charlie.

She was getting to know some the cast and crew. Everyone was friendly and good company. Somehow she was always aware of Kendrick even when she wasn’t in attendance for one of his stunts. Often she’d see him walking around the set, joking with the cast and crew or occasionally outside his trailer, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Whenever she walked past him, he seemed to know she was there, even with his hat tipped forward, covering his eyes.

Kendrick wasn’t the only stuntperson on set. There was Imogen, who doubled up for Tara, the female star of the film, and Josh, an older man who helped Kendrick with some of the stunts. Gossip on the set had it that Josh had been a rally driver before getting into stunt work and he took the lead in most of the stunts involving high-speed chases. Elizabeth was sure that there was an element of competition between him and Kendrick. As far as she could see, they were always trying to outdo each other in terms of who could do the most difficult stunt.