City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

CHAPTER NINE

SO ONCE again Maggie got to ride in his seriously sexy little car, but despite her bravado she wasn’t feeling sexy, or brave, or anything other than totally disoriented. She was feeling disconcerted by the way she’d reacted over the last couple of hours. She was feeling…bereft.

Because she wanted this to be different?

For her mind had moved on from drama and was now playing tricks. Max was driving her to the hospital to see how two people they’d helped were faring. That was all that was happening but she was feeling sensation of warm wind in her hair, she was watching Max’s strongly boned hands-surgeon’s hands, she thought-on the steering-wheel, and she was feeling like she was part of a couple again. She felt cared for. She felt like she was a woman beside the man she loved.

The sensation was insidious in its sweetness-and it was a lie.

For Max was being efficient and kind. Nothing else.

But it didn’t stop her soaking it up. True or not, she was holding to the moment, thinking if this was all she had then she’d enjoy every minute of it.

But sadly it was only a short drive. At the hospital Max pulled into his personal parking place-impressive!-and her illusion of togetherness dispersed. It was back to being Maggie on her own.

But still she hesitated before getting out of his car, holding back for just a moment but long enough for him to come round to her side. He was holding the door wide for her, looking at her in concern. Proffering his hands to help tug her unwieldy body upward.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked uneasily. ‘Maggie, this is too much. Shall I take you home again?’

‘I’m fine. It’s just this car’s too low. I need a crane.’ She looked at his hands-thought about how she should refuse his aid. Contact with this man was doing dumb things to her head-and then she thought, no, dumb or not she’d take any contact she could get. She took his hands, he tugged her to her feet and she came too fast.

She was hard against him. Only she wasn’t. Her bump was in the way.

She had to get herself under control. Max was on the other side of her bump, holding on, waiting for her to steady herself. Looking at her in concern.

She steadied. Took a deep breath. Tugged her hands away.

Then… ‘Spike,’ she said.

This was exactly what she needed. Not to look at Max. Not to let him see her need. Spike was on the far side of the car park, accompanied by a couple-a man in paint-spattered overalls and a woman in the uniform of one of the local supermarket chains. They looked about to climb into a battered family sedan.

‘Spike,’ Maggie yelled, and then, as he didn’t respond, she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

Max hadn’t seen Spike, and he hadn’t expected it. He was a whole eighteen inches away from Maggie, and the whistle came close to bursting his eardrums. It was a whistle a farmer might use to call a dog in the next county.

‘It’s Spike,’ Maggie said happily, and headed across the car park.

He followed. Bemused.

‘Where did you learn to whistle like that?’

‘Betty,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Great legacy, huh?’

Maggie had Spike’s attention now. Of course she did. He-and his parents?-stood by their car, immobilised by Maggie’s whistle.

The whole car-park looked immobilised by Maggie’s whistle, but Maggie’s sole attention was on Spike.

The kid still looked pale and subdued, dressed in the nondescript clothes that emergency departments give out after accidents. His spiked hair was sagging at the tips and he looked…smaller? But Max watched his face as he recognised Maggie, and thought this was a kid who’d had a life-or-death situation thrust at him and who’d reacted with courage and honour. It had left its mark.

Like Maggie, sobbing her heart out on his chest. Life’s tragedies were something that affected both them deeply.

‘Spike,’ Maggie said joyfully as she reached him, and she hugged him before he knew what had hit him.

‘I’m C-Colin,’ the kid managed, trying to sound defiant. ‘Not Spike.’

Maggie grinned and turned to Max. ‘He’s Colin,’ she said happily. ‘Our hero’s Colin.’

‘Hero?’ the woman beside Spike said faintly.

‘Hero,’ Maggie said definitely. ‘Is Colin your son?’

‘I… Yes,’ the woman said. ‘And this is his father.’

‘I’m really pleased to meet you,’ Maggie said warmly. ‘We helped at the accident, with your wonderful son.’

‘The hospital called us,’ the man told them, glancing at Spike as if the thought of Colin as wonderful was clearly ludicrous. ‘They said Colin had been in an accident.’

‘We were so scared,’ the woman added. ‘Only then we found out he wasn’t actually in the accident. He’d just seen it and fainted.’

Someone needed to explain, but even as Max thought it, Maggie was on the case. She was like a lioness with a cub, he thought, bemused. Maggie, fierce and loyal and true. He watched the indignation on her face and he thought this was a woman who, once she gave her heart, would give it for ever. Spike had earned her loyalty and she’d repay it a thousand times over.

And he wondered suddenly-out of left field-whether he could find the courage to ask for that commitment to himself.

‘Is that what Colin told you?’ she was demanding, indignation personified. ‘That he’d seen an accident and fainted?’

‘What else is there?’ his father asked.

‘Did he tell you he saved a lady’s life?’

The couple stared. ‘He just said he saw an accident,’ Spike’s mother said. ‘He said he had to give his T-shirt to the doctor and the ambulance guy said he fainted.’

‘Not until he wasn’t needed any more,’ Maggie retorted. ‘Tell them, Max. This is Dr Ashton, by the way. Dr Ashton, tell them about how Colin was just plain wonderful.’

So Max told them, while Spike’s parents looked bemused, and then disbelieving, and finally awed. Spike flushed and looked like he didn’t know where to put himself, but he didn’t have a choice. Like it or not, Maggie hugged him again, and then his mother was lining up for her share.

And suddenly, fiercely, Max was wishing he was somewhere in the middle of that hugging. It was dumb but there it was. Things were shifting inside. A huge hunger he’d ignored for years was suddenly refusing to be ignored.

The abyss of emotional connection seemed suddenly no abyss but something wonderful. Something that if he dared move forward could be his again.

If he dared.

Maybe…maybe that abyss was simply a blockade that had to be battered down. It was a blockade built from fear and loneliness but on the other side…

‘You must be so proud,’ Maggie declared, as Max’s world shifted, while Spike’s mum took over hugging duty.

‘An’ the doctor said they’ll live,’ Colin said, muffled by the closeness of his mother. ‘I asked. But I can’t believe I fainted. Bloody sook.’

‘You didn’t faint until the drama was over,’ Max said firmly, putting his arm round Maggie and holding her against him. Finally taking a hug for himself. The hug felt good. No, it felt excellent. It felt right.

But somehow he had to keep talking to Spike and his parents. Maggie expected it of him, he knew. This was a lady who’d expect a lot of her man.

‘Colin, I fainted for the first time when I was a medical student,’ he told him. ‘It was during the first Caesarean birth I ever attended. The mother was conscious-she told the nurse she thought I was going to faint. She even told her to help me. Colin, you did better than the average medical student. You did what had to be done, and you kept your personal, emotional reaction until afterwards. That took guts.’

And beside him Maggie nestled closer and beamed up at him. He had her approval, he thought, and maybe what he was feeling was corny and clichéd and soppy, but corny or not it felt right.

‘Did he really do that?’ Spike’s father demanded, staring at his son like he’d never seen him before.

‘He was the only one in the crowd with the courage to help,’ Maggie declared, and Max could feel her wanting to hug Spike again. He was doing Spike a favour by holding onto her, but that certainly wasn’t the reason he was holding on. He was holding on for himself alone. ‘Maggie and I are trained medical professionals,’ he said, hugging her tighter to solidify the ‘Maggie and I’ connection. ‘Colin came in cold and did brilliantly.’

‘Hey,’ Spike’s dad said, and his eyes were filling. ‘Hey.’

‘Weren’t nuthin’,’ Spike said.

‘It was everything,’ Max said.

And then, as Spike’s parents showed every sign of bursting into tears, he said farewells for both of them and dragged a reluctant Maggie away. He held onto her all the way to the other side of the car park. He’d drag her further if he could, he thought. There were far too many people around for what he wanted to do; for what he wanted to say.

But it’d have to wait. Maggie wanted to see how Grace and Judith were faring and something told him nothing would ever get in the way of Maggie’s intentions.

But then he paused as he heard her sniff. ‘Maggie?’ He took her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. She sniffed again and glared.

‘I don’t cry,’ she managed. ‘I never cry.’

‘I know that,’ he said, managing to keep a straight face. ‘So why are you not crying now?’

‘I just thought…’ She swiped her eyes angrily with the back of her hand and sniffed again. ‘I watched their faces. His mum and dad’s.’

‘They were very proud.’

‘It’s what I want,’ she said, and she put her hands under the bump that was her baby and tried to smile. ‘You know, I was at the pictures last year. Life was grey. I was just working, just living, for me, for me, for me. William had said if ever I wanted his baby I should go ahead but there was no way I could. How could I ever have a child on my own? Only then I went to the pictures and this mum came out, arguing with her son. It was a silly, soppy picture-a romance-and she’d obviously dragged her kid there against his will. He was giving her such a hard time and she was saying leave it alone, you loved it as much as I did, and he was rolling his eyes at her, and she was saying if he didn’t say something nice about it she’d make him broccoli sandwiches for a week. And he rolled his eyes again-and then he grinned. Then he looked around to make sure no one was noticing that he’d grinned, and I thought, That’s what I want.’

‘You want a teenager?’ he said faintly.

‘Like Spike,’ she said. ‘All contradictions and prickles and lovely underneath.’ She patted her bump with pride. ‘I’m going to refuse to let her get her ears pierced. That’ll be such a fight. My best friend Rachel and I pierced our ears with ice and needles when we were thirteen.’

‘You didn’t!’

‘My mum didn’t even notice,’ she said, with a touch of sadness. ‘She wouldn’t. I didn’t have that kind of a family. But Rachel’s did and she swabbed us with so much disinfectant the sides of our faces were yellow for a week. Then she marched us both off to her family doctor. She and Rachel yelled at each other all the time and I loved it. I so wanted someone to yell at me.’

‘You’re looking forward to yelling?’

‘I am,’ she said, sniffing again but finally managing a watery smile. ‘I’m going to be the yellingest mother.’

‘Maggie…’ Someone pushed past them on the path. If he didn’t get her to himself right now he’d go nuts.

But she wasn’t thinking about him. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, and suddenly, unaccountably, she seemed happy. She tucked her arm into his and tugged him forward. ‘Let’s go find Judith and Grace and make sure what Spike said is true. I’m so in the mood for a happy ending.’

So was he. He had some figuring out to do, but suddenly so was he.

Instead of going into the emergency waiting room and asking through normal channels, because Max worked at the hospital he took her straight into the emergency room itself. He introduced Maggie to Sue-Ellen, the director of the emergency department. Sue-Ellen greeted Maggie with pleasure, eyeing her bump with friendly interest.

What Spike had told them was the truth. Judith was in Theatre, having her arm stitched. She’d been given blood and would be fine. Grace was still being stabilised. ‘That compound fracture of her leg needs work. She’ll need grafts for the skin on her tummy, but every indicator is that we’ll have a good result,’ Sue-Ellen told them. And then, as if unable to contain her curiosity, she said, ‘So you’re the lady Max collided with the weekend of the music festival. We’ve been hearing rumours.’ She grinned at the bump. ‘I’ll assume this isn’t fast work, then, Dr Ashton.’

‘Sue…’

‘Just kidding,’ she said, and gripped Maggie’s hand. ‘Good to meet you, Maggie. But you don’t look like you should be here as a doctor. Midwifery’s that-a-way.’

‘There’s a while to go yet,’ Maggie said, and Sue-Ellen looked at her bump more closely and raised her eyebrows in polite disagreement.

‘Really? I’ve had ladies come in looking smaller than you and leaving with a carry cot not all that many hours later.’

‘Not me,’ Maggie said firmly. ‘Not yet. I’m not sticking round here now. I only wanted to know how Judith and Grace are.’

‘You know, they’re probably better than Judith’s husband,’ Sue-Ellen told her, and motioned through the glass doors to where a young man sat in the waiting room. He was holding a baby-Thomas? Thomas was asleep in his arms. The young father was staring straight ahead, holding the baby like his life depended on it. He looked grey.

‘He came in looking worse than he looks now,’ Sue-Ellen said sympathetically. ‘I think he’ll have lost ten years of his life on the way here.’

‘That’s the downside of loving,’ Max said, flinching as he watched him, and Maggie cast him a look of reproach.

‘Don’t,’ she said softly. ‘You can’t keep thinking like that.’

‘How can you stop?’

‘You’re not cut out to be an emergency physician, then,’ Sue-Ellen said bluntly. ‘Sometimes I wonder how on earth can I go home at night expecting Bill and the kids to still be there. But amazingly they are. You just have to keep faith.’ She smiled and motioned to Maggie’s bump. ‘Like you. There’s a mound of hope if ever I saw it. Good luck with it. Oh, and, Max, Anton’s been looking for you. Have you had your phone turned off? There’s a crisis upstairs.’ She disappeared, leaving them standing by the admissions desk, expecting them to leave.

He’d have to leave. A crisis. Max swore under his breath. Of course. He’d slipped out to see Maggie during a quiet time. He’d called Anton after the accident saying he’d be longer than expected and it had still been quiet, but peace in his department never lasted long.

Anton needed him? He’d have to go. But what should he do with Maggie?

Maggie was looking through the glass doors that led into a waiting room. She’d be wanting to go and hug the young father, he thought. But then the door to the waiting room swung wide and Mary-the neighbour who’d helped at the scene-and a couple of other people arrived. Grandparents?

In moments the young father was surrounded. Others were doing the hugging, and Maggie was looking almost wistful.

‘I need to go home,’ she said, and suddenly he knew she was fighting not to sound forlorn.

He badly didn’t want her to go back to the hotel by herself. Why had he set up his department so he was indispensable? Of all the stupid…

‘If you wait until I’ve checked with my department I might be able to take you,’ he told her, knowing already how doubtful it was that he could. And maybe she heard it in his voice.

‘A cab’s fine.’ She was still looking through the glass. ‘Oh, I wish there was something I could do.’

‘You’ve done enough,’ Max said. In truth he was having trouble pulling his attention away from the little group as well. They’d come so close to the edge…

He’d been over that edge. So had Maggie. Surely as a professional she knew she needed to protect herself.

But was it possible to protect yourself? He thought he’d built armour that was invincible. Only now… Suddenly he didn’t know where that armour was.

‘I’ll just go talk to them before I go,’ Maggie said, and her eyes were glistening again. ‘But thank you, Max. I mean… just intending to visit was great. Even before the accident. It was very nice of you.’

‘I’ll come back to the hotel after work to make sure you’re okay,’ he growled.

‘I’ll be asleep,’ she said, ‘two minutes after I get home. Of course I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.’

‘There is a need.’ The thought of her going back to her hotel alone seemed unbearable. ‘Maggie, have you arranged for anyone to be with when you go into labour?’

‘I don’t need anyone.’

‘You do need-’

‘No. I’ve learned not to.’

‘I could-’

‘No, because you don’t want to,’ she said bluntly. ‘We both know there’s stuff between us that’s messing with your head.’

‘Maybe my mess is getting clearer. Maybe my head is saying loud and clear that I want to help. Maggie, I want to be involved.’

That gave her pause. She gazed up at him for a long moment and then she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, and he thought she was trying to sound firm for both of them. ‘Not after today. I just sobbed on you, naked in the shower, and if that didn’t confuse the issue then I don’t know what would.’ She hesitated but then her voice became more certain. ‘Okay, Max, I’ll be honest here and confess that right now I look at you and my knees turn to water. Now, if that’s not a confession to make you run a mile I don’t know what is. But I’m also thinking that maybe it’s my hormones playing tricks. Would any nine-month pregnant woman be hard-wired to latch onto the first available male and cling? I’ve never been pregnant before. I have no idea what’s hormones and what’s not. I only know that this isn’t the time to find out. And I also suspect you don’t ever want to find out. You see that pain?’

She motioned out to the waiting room where the young father sat in a surge of hugs and tears. ‘That’s what I want to be part of,’ she confessed. ‘That’s why I made the decision to have William’s baby. I want to open myself up for all that again. Hurt, grief, but the joy that goes with it. That’s what I want but I don’t think you do.’ She tried to smile, tried to make him smile with her, but he wasn’t smiling. He glanced out at the little family and saw again the grief that he’d sworn never again to endure.

He turned again to Maggie and he knew he was exposed again, like it or not. But they were standing in the middle of the emergency room. The woman behind the admissions desk could probably hear them-he could practically see her ears flapping. In another part of the hospital patients were waiting for him, and he knew they’d be urgent. How could he talk to her now?

He needed time to sort his head out. He needed time to get the words right.

All he could do now was to address immediate need. Which was to keep her safe.

‘Maggie, I will not let you go back to the hotel,’ he said. ‘Let’s find you a bed here until I can take you home.’

‘Are you kidding?’ she demanded, astounded. ‘I’m not staying in hospital.’

‘If you go into labour…’

‘Then I’ll come back. I’m not stupid.’

‘Look,’ he said, and suddenly he was in no man’s land-no longer sure of anything. Reason had gone out the window. He only knew that this woman had changed his world, and to leave her now seemed physically impossible. ‘Maggie, I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling but I can’t let you go home by yourself.’

‘The reluctant martyr,’ she groaned.

‘What?’

And suddenly she was angry. ‘How do you think this makes me feel-that you’re being dragged into my life by your toenails, kicking and screaming. Butt out.’

‘Maggie, I-’

‘I’ve already confessed how I feel,’ she snapped. ‘How much pride have I lost? There’s only one thing you can say after a confession like that and it’s goodbye.’

‘I don’t want to say…’

‘No, and neither do I,’ she confessed, still furious. ‘But we don’t have a choice. Maybe we can think about things after the birth, after I get some normality back into my life. But not now.’

‘You need help.’

‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘Just cut it out or you’ll have me agreeing with you, and how scary’s that?’

‘It’s not in the least scary.’

‘What, to have me clinging to you?’

‘Maggie…’

‘Stop it,’ she ordered. ‘Max, just cut it out and go back to your life. Please.’

‘Do you really want me to?’

‘Of course I don’t, but it’s the only sensible thing to do.’

‘Do you want to be sensible?’

‘No!’ She was practically yelling at him. Patients were looking at them. Staff were looking at them. Maggie glanced around and suddenly she shrugged and a spark of mischief replaced the anger. Mischief and something more. ‘Of course I don’t want to be sensible, but I do need to go home. But if you’re really intent on following… Maybe I’d better warn you what you’d be in for if you really let me need you. Let’s see me not be sensible.’

And before he knew what she intended-before he could begin to guess-she seized his shoulders, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

And this was a Kiss. It was a seize the day, claim the man, take what you want for there might be no tomorrow kind of kiss, and it possessed him utterly, from the time her hands grasped his shoulders, from the time her lips met his, from the time she melted into him.

For that was what she did. She melted. Her lips were like fire, and the heat she gave him, the strength, the passion, the surety… It took his breath away.

It took him away. His sensible self. The Max who thought things out logically. The Max who thought he was in control.

This was a man and a woman, and between them was a need as primitive as time itself.

He was holding her close and he was falling…falling… For it was no longer Maggie who was doing the kissing. He was kissing her, holding her, taking her to him. Claiming her as his own.

And they were being cheered.

At a subconscious level he heard the cheers and knew he should pull away, only that would mean letting her go, and to let her go was impossible.

He’d never felt such heat. Never felt such fire.

Her mouth was open under his and he felt her tongue start its own sweet exploration. His hands tugged her closer and he kissed her back, demanding as well as giving, taking passion, taking sweetness and heat, taking joy…

The clapping and laughter around them was growing louder. More raucous.

And then there was an apologetic murmur. A hand on his shoulder was tugging him back. There was laughter right beside him, and the hand on his shoulder was insistent. Someone-not Maggie-was determined that he move.

Reluctantly he propelled Maggie away from him, holding her by her shoulders until she was steady. She stood back, looking astonished at her own temerity, while around them patients and staff erupted into applause. The guy at his shoulder was an orderly at the head of a trolley, wanting to get past. The patient on the trolley was laughing, too, but the orderly was inexorably pushing them both aside.

‘Bedrooms are upstairs, mate,’ he said, smiling.

‘It’s young love,’ an old lady on a nearby examination table said.

‘At it like rabbits,’ a kid on a trolley called out, and Max found himself blushing from the toes up.

‘I just rang Anton and told him you were here,’ Sue-Ellen called from behind them, apologetically. ‘He needs you right away.’

And to Max’s astonishment, Maggie grinned at their audience and gave Sue-Ellen a cheery wave.

‘Take him,’ she called. ‘He’s all yours now.’

‘I don’t think I want him,’ Sue-Ellen said, grinning back. ‘He’s looking used.’

‘If he’s second hand I’ll take him,’ the old lady called. ‘He looks like there’s still a bit of life in him yet.’

‘All the same-out of here,’ Sue-Ellen said, laughing. ‘If we can’t deliver your baby, Maggie, you’ll have to leave. We’ve got an influx expected.’

‘Trouble?’ Max asked, fighting hard for composure, and Sue-Ellen’s smile faded.

‘Probably. This power grid problem’s not going away and half the city seems to be affected. The power cuts over the last few days seem to be minor in comparison. You’d think drivers would think no traffic lights means slow down. Try telling that to the moronic driver who caused your accident. We’re hearing there’s accidents all over the place. The only reason we’re not rushed off our feet already is that the traffic’s so gridlocked it’s taking ages getting ambulances to us.’

And it seemed as if the outside world was breaking in from all directions. ‘Max!’ Through the swinging doors burst Anton. ‘Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you. We’ve got a bleeder. Theatre three.’

‘Maggie, if the traffic’s a problem…’ Max started, but Maggie was already backing away.

‘It wasn’t a problem on the way in,’ Maggie said. ‘Even if it is, I’ll just find a café and sit it out until the power comes back on.’

‘I don’t want you-’

‘No,’ she said, giving a firm nod. ‘You don’t. You have work to do and I’m in the way.’

‘Max,’ Anton said, warningly. ‘This can’t wait.’

‘Goodbye Max,’ Maggie said, and tried to smile. She walked away, leaving him staring through the glass doors after her.

‘Max,’ Anton said again, sounding more urgent.

‘I’m coming.’

‘Should I find someone else?’ Anton demanded, watching his face.

‘No. No,’ he repeated, more firmly. ‘She’ll be okay. She has time.’

‘Time until the baby’s due, or time until you go after her?’ Anton said.

He didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. He knew what Maggie wanted. Her body had just told him, and he knew he wanted the same.

How soon could he go to her?

There didn’t seem to be any cabs, so Maggie took a bus, and, as Sue-Ellen had warned, the traffic was a nightmare. Every set of traffic lights was out.

The city was descending into darkness but, weirdly, people were being friendlier than she’d ever known. The lack of traffic lights, the series of mostly minor accidents at uncontrolled intersections meant that traffic was going nowhere. People sat patiently on Maggie’s bus, discussing whether the supermarkets would be open for candles, where they could get long-life milk, ice, something for dinner that didn’t need cooking.

Someone had a tiny keyring pig from a Christmas cracker that oinked every time he shone its nose light. ‘I’m going to do my supermarket shopping by pig,’ he told his fellow passengers as after two hours on the bus everyone gave up waiting and decided the only way anyone was getting anywhere was on foot.

Maggie tried to smile. Normally she’d think this was fun, but too much had happened today and her back was starting to ache. She was still half a mile from her apartment when the bus stopped. Weariness and the shock of the day was taking its toll. She really didn’t want to walk.

There were no cabs. She had no choice.

It was hard to keep herself steady on the pavement. Without streetlights, people were jostling, good-humoured and laughing, but with each step Maggie felt less like laughing. Her back hurt!

This was tiredness, she told herself. Shock. She’d been bending over the two accident victims, not being careful. She’d been swimming before that. She’d done too much.

And… She wanted Max.

Maybe she’d never see Max again.

She deserved not to see Max again, she told herself dismally. She’d kissed him like a…like a hussy.

Ooh. She gave herself a mock hoot of horror. A hussy?

She didn’t feel like a hussy. She felt alone and clumsy and huge, and as she walked steadily onward she was also starting to feel more than a little scared.

A stab of hot pain jabbed at her back and she thought, no, it couldn’t be. Please.

She had to be sensible. If there was a chance she was in labour… No, she was imagining things. She was over three miles from the hospital now-it was impossible to walk back. She’d be okay.

But her back hurt. A lot.

Her feet slowed. What to do?

What would she tell a patient to do?

Call an ambulance.

That was good advice. She was nine months pregnant with bad backache. Calling an ambulance was only sensible.

The decision made, she felt better. She stopped walking and searched in her purse for her phone.

It wasn’t there.

Damn, she could see it, her phone, sitting on the charger on the bedside table in her apartment. She’d left it there when she’d gone swimming and she’d been in too much of a rush when she’d left with Max to think about taking it.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic!

She had no phone here, but she could get to her apartment and phone from there.

She could phone Max?

Or not. What could Max do that an ambulance couldn’t?

She kept walking. She could see the glimmer of the moon over the sea. The sea was where her apartment was. Great. Two minutes’ walk and she’d be there. She’d let herself in, make herself a cup of tea, ring the ambulance and then watch the moonlit sea while she waited.

No power. She wouldn’t be able to make tea.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, she was crying again! She wasn’t a hussy-she was a total wuss.