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‘Conner? When has he ever put his life on the line for anyone? He won’t help her. He won’t help my baby.’ Her eyes suddenly wild with terror, Jayne developed superhuman strength, wrenched herself from the hold of the two men and hurled herself towards the edge of the quay once again.
The two men quickly grabbed her and she wriggled and pulled, struggling to free herself. ‘Get the coastguard, anyone—Oh, God, no, no.’ She collapsed, sobbing and Flora slid her arms round her, this time keeping her body between Jayne and the quay.
‘Jayne, you’re no help to Lily if you fall in, too. Leave it to Conner. You have to trust Conner.’
‘Who in their right mind would trust Conner MacNeil?’
‘I would,’ Flora said simply, and realised that it was true. ‘I’d trust him with my life.’
‘Then you’re obviously infatuated with him,’ Jayne shrieked, ‘like every other woman who comes close to him.’ But she sagged against Flora, her energy depleted by the extravagant surge of emotion.
Infatuated?
Dismissing the accusation swiftly, Flora stared at the surface of the water but there was no movement and a couple of tourists standing next to her started to murmur dire predictions. She turned and glared at them just as there was a sound from the water and Conner surfaced, the limp, lifeless body of the child in his arms. He sucked in air and then hauled himself onto the concrete steps with one hand, his other arm holding the child protectively against his chest.
Lily lay still, her soaked dress darkened by blood, her hair streaked with it.
Flora felt panic, jagged and dangerous. Oh no, please no.
There were no signs of life. None.
Next to her Jayne started to moan like a creature tormented and then the sound stopped as she slid to the concrete in a faint.
‘Leave her,’ Conner ordered, climbing the steps out of the water, the body of the child still in his arms. Lily’s head hung backwards and her skin was a dull grey colour. ‘Someone else can look after her and at the moment she’s better off out of it. Get me a towel, Flora. With the blood and the water, I can’t see what we’re dealing with here.’
A towel?
Feeling sick and shaky, Flora scanned the crowd and focused on two tourists who were loaded down with beach items. ‘Give me your towel.’ Without waiting for their permission, she yanked the towel out of the bag, spilling buckets and spades over the quay. Then she was on her knees beside Conner.
Lily lay pale and lifeless, her tiny body still, like a puppet that had been dropped. Blood spurted like a fountain from a wound on her leg.
‘It’s an artery.’ With a soft curse Conner pressed down hard. ‘I’m guessing she gashed it on the propeller as she fell. She’s lucky the engine wasn’t on.’ He increased the pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding. ‘She’s stopped breathing.’
Flora almost stopped breathing, too. Panic pressed in on her and without Connor’s abrupt commands she would have shrivelled up and sobbed, just as Jayne had. Perhaps he realised that she was on the verge of falling apart because he lifted his head and glared at her, his blue eyes fierce with determination.
‘Press here! I need to start CPR. Flora, move!’
She stared at him for a moment, so stunned by the enormity of what was happening she couldn’t respond.
‘Pull yourself together!’ His tone was sharp. ‘If we’re to stand any chance here, I need some help, and you’re the only person who knows what they’re doing. Everyone else is just gawping.’
Flora felt suddenly dizzy. She’d never seen so much blood in her life. She’d never worked in A and E and all the first-aid courses she’d attended had been theoretical. She didn’t know what she was doing.
And then she realised that he did. Conner knew exactly what he was doing and she knelt down beside him.
‘Tell me what you want me to do.’
‘Press here. Like that. That’s it—good.’ He put her hands on the wound, showed her just how hard he wanted her to press, and then shifted slightly so that he could focus on the child’s breathing. With one hand on her forehead and the other under her chin, he gently tilted Lily’s head back and covered her mouth with his, creating a seal. He breathed gently, watching as the child’s chest rose.
Then he lifted his mouth and watched as Lily’s chest fell as the air came out. ‘Flora, get a tourniquet on that leg. She’s losing blood by the bucketload.’
‘A tourniquet?’ Flora turned to the nearest tourist. ‘Get me a bandage or a tie, something—anything—I can wind around her leg.’
The man simply stared at her, but his wife moved swiftly, jerking the tie from the neck of a businessman who had been waiting to take the ferry.
Flora didn’t dare release the pressure on Lily’s leg. ‘If I let go to tie it, she’s going to bleed.’ Feeling horribly ignorant, she sent Conner a helpless glance. ‘I haven’t done this before. Do I put it directly over the wound?’
‘Above the wound. You need a stick or something to twist it tight. Tie it and leave a gap and tie it again.’
Flora swiftly did as he instructed. The towel was soaked in blood and her fingers were slippery with it and shaking.
‘The bleeding’s not stopping Conner,’ she muttered, and he glanced across at her, his expression hard.
‘You need to tighten it. More pressure. Get a stick.’
She glanced at the uneven surface of the quay. ‘There’s no stick!’
‘Then use something else!’ He glared at the group of tourists standing nearest to them. ‘Find a stick of some sort! A kid’s spade, a cricket stump—anything we can use.’
‘The blood is everywhere.’ Flora tried to twist the tie tighter but the bleeding was relentless and she felt a sob build in her throat. It just seemed hopeless. Completely hopeless. ‘She’s four years old, Conner.’ She was ready to give up but Conner placed the heel of his hand over the child’s sternum.
‘She’s hypovolaemic. She needs fluid and she needs it fast.’ He pushed down. ‘Where the hell is the air ambulance?’
Someone thrust a stick into Flora’s hand and she looked at it with relief. Perhaps now she could stop the bleeding. ‘Do I push it under the tie and twist?’
‘On top.’ Conner stopped chest compressions and bent to give another rescue breath. ‘Between the two knots. Twist. Make a note of the time—we can’t leave it on for more than ten minutes. But if we’re not out of here in ten minutes, it will be too late anyway.’
He covered Lily’s mouth with his again and Flora followed his instructions, placing the stick between the first and second knots and twisting until it tightened.
‘The air ambulance has just landed on the beach,’ Jim, the ferryman, was by her shoulder, his voice surprisingly steady. ‘What can I do, Flora?’
‘I don’t know. Keep the crowd away, I suppose. How’s Jayne?’
‘Out cold. Might be the best thing. Someone’s looking after her—a nurse from the mainland on a day trip.’
Conner returned to chest compressions. ‘Jim—get over to the paramedics. I want oxygen and plasma expander. And get them to radio the hospital and warn them. She’s going to need whole blood or packed cells when she arrives. I want her in the air in the next few minutes. We don’t have time to play around here.’
‘Will do.’ Without argument, Jim disappeared to do as Conner had instructed and Flora lifted the edge of the towel.
‘The bleeding’s stopped.’ She felt weak with relief and Conner nodded.
‘Good. We’ll release it and check it in about ten minutes. If the bleeding doesn’t start again we can leave it loose, but don’t take it off—we might need it again.’ He bent his head to give Lily another life-saving breath and Flora saw the paramedics sprinting along the quay towards them.
‘They’re here, Conner.’
Conner wasn’t listening. His attention was focused on the child. ‘Come on, baby girl,’ he murmured softly, ‘breathe for me.’ His eyes were on her chest and Flora watched him, wondering. Had he seen something? Had he felt a change in her condition?
‘Do you think she—?’
And at that moment Lily gave a choking cough and vomited weakly.
‘Oh, thank God,’ Flora breathed, and Conner turned the child’s head gently and cleared her airway.
‘There’s a good girl. You’re going to be all right now, sweetheart.’
He spoke so softly that Flora doubted that anyone else had heard his words of comfort and she felt a lump block her throat as she watched him with the child.
So he was capable of kindness, then. It was there, deep inside him, just as she’d always suspected.
But then he lifted his head and his eyes were hard as ever. ‘Get some blankets, dry towels, coats—something to warm her up,’ he ordered, and then looked at the paramedics. ‘Give her some oxygen. I want to get a line in and give her a bolus of fluid and then we’re out of here.’
‘How much fluid do you want?’
Conner wiped his forearm across his brow, but he kept one hand on the child’s arm. Offering reassurance. ‘What’s her weight? How old is she? We can estimate—’
‘I know her weight exactly,’ Flora said. ‘I saw her in clinic last week. She’s 16 kilograms. Do you want a calculator so that you can work out the fluid?’
‘Start with 160 mils of colloid and then I’ll reassess. I don’t want to hang around here.’ Conner released Lily’s hand and started looking for a vein, while one of the paramedics sorted out the fluid and the other gave Lily some oxygen.
The child was breathing steadily now, her chest rising and falling as Conner worked. Occasionally her eyes fluttered open and then drifted closed again.
‘She’s got no veins,’ Conner muttered, carefully examining Lily’s arms. ‘Get me an intraosseous needle. I’m not wasting time looking for non-existent veins. We need to get her to hospital. We’ve messed around here long enough.’
The paramedic dropped to his knees beside Conner, all the necessary equipment to hand. ‘You want an intraosseous needle?’
‘Actually, just give me a blue cannula. She might just have a vein I can use here.’ Conner stroked the skin on the child’s arm, focused. ‘One go—if it fails, we’ll get her in the air and I’ll insert an intraosseous needle on the way.’
Flora leaned forward and closed her fingers around the child’s arm, squeezing gently and murmuring words of reassurance. Lily was drifting in and out of consciousness and didn’t seem aware of what was going on.
There was a commotion next to them but Conner didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t look up or hesitate. Instead, he applied himself to the task with total concentration, slid the needle into the vein and then gave a grunt of satisfaction. ‘I’m in—good. That makes things easier. Let’s flush it and tape it—I don’t want to lose this line.’
The paramedic leaned towards him with tape but just at that moment Jayne launched herself at Conner and tried to drag him away. ‘What are you doing to my baby?’ Her face was as white as swan’s feathers, her eyes glazed with despair. ‘Let me get to her—I need to hold her—Get him away from her.’
‘Jayne, not now.’ Flora quickly slid an arm round her shoulders and pulled her out of the way so that the paramedic and Conner could finish what they’d started.
‘But she’s dead,’ Jayne moaned, and Flora shook her head.
‘She’s not dead, Jayne,’ she said firmly. ‘She’s breathing.’
‘Not dead?’ Relief diluted the pain in Jayne’s eyes but then panic rose again as she saw Conner bending over her child. ‘What’s he doing to her? Oh, God, there’s blood everywhere.’
‘Lily cut herself very badly,’ Flora began, but Jayne began to scream.
‘Get him away from her! Get him away from my baby! I don’t trust him!’
‘You should trust him. He’s the reason the bairn’s breathing now.’ It was Jim who spoke, his weatherbeaten face finally showing signs of strain. Gently but firmly he drew Jayne away from Flora. ‘Flora, you help Dr MacNeil. Jayne, you’re staying with me. And you’d better remember that Conner MacNeil is the reason Lily is alive right now. I know you’re upset, and rightly so, but you need to get a hold. The man is working miracles.’
Conner straightened, conferred with the paramedics and together he and the crew transferred Lily’s tiny form onto the stretcher. Then he wiped his blood-streaked hands down his soaked shorts. His handsome face was still damp with sea water and the expression in his ice-blue eyes cold and detached as he finally looked at Jayne. ‘We’re taking her to hospital.’
Jayne crumpled. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ Tears poured down her cheeks as she looked from him to Lily’s still form. ‘Can I come with you? Please?’
Conner took a towel that a tourist tentatively offered him. ‘That depends on whether you’re likely to assault me during the flight.’ He wiped his hands properly, watching as Jayne breathed in and out and lifted a hand to her chest.
‘I—I really am sorry.’
‘No, you need to understand.’ Conner handed the towel back, his voice brutally harsh. ‘This isn’t over. If she arrests during the flight, I’ll be resuscitating her. Can you cope with that? Because if you can’t, you’re staying on the ground.’
Jayne flinched but for some reason his lack of sympathy seemed to help her pull herself together and find some dignity. ‘I understand. Of course. And that’s fine. I’m just grateful that you …’ She swallowed and nodded. ‘Do everything,’ she whispered. ‘Everything. I just—I just want to be near her. And with her when we get there. I—Thank you. Thank you so much. Without you …’ Her eyes met Conner’s for a moment and he turned his attention back to Lily.
‘We’re wasting time. Let’s move.’
In a matter of moments the helicopter was in the air and Flora watched as it swooped away from Glenmore towards the mainland.
Suddenly she realised how much her hands were shaking.
She stared down at herself. Her shorts were streaked with blood and Lily’s blood still pooled on the grey concrete of the quay. ‘Someone get a bucket and slosh some water over this,’ she muttered to Jim, and he breathed a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face.
‘I haven’t seen anything like that in all my time on Glenmore.’
‘No. I suppose it was because the quay was so crowded. She must have been knocked off the edge and into the water.’
‘I didn’t mean that.’ Jim stared into the sky, watching as the helicopter shrank to a tiny dot in the distance. ‘I meant Conner MacNeil. He was in the water like an arrow while the rest of us were still working out what had happened. And he just got on with it, didn’t he?’
‘Yes.’ Flora cleared her throat. ‘He did.’
‘Logan says he was in the army.’ Jim pushed his hat back from his forehead and scratched. ‘I reckon if I was fighting in some godforsaken country, I’d feel better knowing he was around to pick up the pieces.’
‘Yes. He was amazing.’
‘He’s not cuddly, of course.’ Jim held up five fingers to a tourist who tentatively asked whether or not the ferry would be running. ‘Five minutes. But in a crisis which do you prefer? Cuddly or competent?’
Flora swallowed, knowing that Jim was right. Conner’s ice-cold assessment of the situation had been a huge part of the reason Lily was still alive. He hadn’t allowed emotion to cloud his judgement, whereas she …
Suddenly Flora felt depression wash over her. The whole situation had been awful and she was experienced enough to know that, despite Conner’s heroic efforts, Lily wasn’t out of danger. ‘I’d better go, Jim. I need to clean up.’
‘And I need to get this ferry to the mainland.’ Jim gave a wry smile and glanced at his watch. ‘It’s the first time the Glenmore ferry has been late since the service started. Nice job, Flora. Well done.’
But Flora knew that her part in the rescue had been minimal.
It had been Conner. All of it. He’d been the one to dive into the water. He’d pulled Lily out. And when she’d been frozen with panic at the sight of Lily’s lifeless form covered in all that blood, he’d worked with ruthless efficiency, showing no emotion but getting the job done. Nothing had distracted him. Not even Lily’s mother. He’d had a task to do and he’d done it.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE COULDN’T relax at home so she went back to the beach with her book and when it was too dark to read she just sat, listening to the hiss of the waves as they rushed forward onto the beach and then retreated.
She wanted to know how Lily was faring, but Conner wasn’t answering his mobile and she didn’t want to bother the hospital staff.
Shrieks of excitement came from the far corner of the beach where a group of teenagers had lit a fire and were having a beach party. Flora watched for a moment, knowing that she was too far away for them to see her. They weren’t supposed to light fires but they always did. This was Glenmore in the summer. She knew that sooner or later Nick Hillier, the policeman, would do one of his evening patrols and if they were still there, he’d move them on. Back home to their parents or the properties they rented for a few weeks every summer.
