Authors: Susan Buchanan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romance
Chapter Twenty Three
At seven thirty, Ben had to get up and thumb a lift back to Ballachulish, to get to work in time.
He went via the B&B to freshen up.
His day passed slowly.
The only event of note was the turn for the worse in the weather.
The heavy rain forecast for the night before, was bucketing down now and the wind was gusting wildly. He decided to call his sister.
“Gaby. How you doing?”
“Been better,” she answered.
She sounded depressed and angry.
“What’s up?”
“I can’t go into it right now.”
“So there
is
something up.
You’re not ill are you?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s a relief.
So, what is it?”
“I can’t tell you.
You wouldn’t approve.”
“You haven’t joined a cult have you?” Ben joked
“No.”
“Weightwatchers?”
“Ha ha.”
“Are things OK with you and Oscar?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh, now we’re getting to it.
What’s wrong?”
“He’s working ridiculous hours.
We hardly ever see each other.
“Have you spoken to him?” Ben asked her, wishing he’d called her once he’d got home.
“Yes, of course I have, but he keeps saying it’s for our future.”
“Just tell him you need to spend a bit more time together.”
“I’m sick suggesting it.
He says I’m nagging him.”
“I don’t know, sis. You need to make him listen.
“I suppose.”
“Listen. We should probably talk about this later.
I’m at work.
Will you be in tonight?”
“Where else would I be?” Gabriella replied, sounding desolate.
“OK, I’ll call you later.”
The call with Gaby had left him feeling perplexed.
She had never sounded so off before, certainly not regarding her husband.
He’d take Oscar for a beer and have a few, subtle words with him.
He made another few calls, one to his mate Barry and one to the officer in charge of the training he was to give later in the week.
It was four thirty; only another half hour and then he could head back and call Jennifer.
His mobile vibrated in his pocket.
It was Forsythe.
Forsythe was a rescue team leader.
It was one of the reasons he was so understanding about Ben leaving mid-shift to help out the MRT.
“Incident Stob Choire Claurigh.
Multiple persons, multiple injuries. Confirm availability.”
Ben texted back that he was on his way and drove over to the MRC in Glen Nevis.
Forsythe was already briefing the team.
“Stob Choire Claurigh.
4.27pm, multiple persons, multiple injuries.
We have the approximate co-ordinates.
It doesn’t look easy.”
They all knew the drill.
They’d been there hundreds of times and had seen some horrific injuries, including the occasional death.
“Party of six, travelling one behind the other.
The rope linking them together snapped.
Four injured; one unconscious, one suspected broken leg and the other two have major contusions.
RAF is picking you up in ten minutes.”
“Any potential difficulties?” asked Ben.
“They’re underneath an overhang,” said Forsythe.
Great
, thought Ben,
how was the chopper going to reach them
?
The radio crackled into life.
“RAF Fort William, Muldoon. Over.”
“Go ahead, Freddy. Over.”
“We should be touching down in a few minutes.
Over”
“We’re ready.
Over.”
“Roger that.
Over and out.”
The team got their kit together and congregated beside the new helipad.
A few minutes later the helicopter swooped down.
They’d no sooner climbed aboard, jackets billowing behind them from the force of the downdraught, when the helicopter took off again.
Ben relayed the grid reference to the pilot and they headed towards Stob Choire Claurigh.
The driving rain made visibility poor and the storm forecast for the day before was in full swing.
They neared the co-ordinates, but couldn’t see the party.
The storm swirled all around them, buffeting the helicopter.
It was imperative they find the walkers and fast.
Although their information indicated they were beneath an overhang, which would afford some shelter, they wouldn’t escape the full force of the wind.
They switched on the infrared heat detector.
“There,” shouted Stan. “A hundred feet below us.”
Sure enough. They could see six red dots on the imager.
Freddy brought the chopper down, but couldn’t quite bring it low enough, as there was another peak below him.
“Stan.
Bring the stretcher.”
“Freddy, pull us in as close as you can.”
Freddy banked the helicopter slightly.
“Ready, Andy?”
Andy operated the winch, lowering them to the overhang.
Fortunately the wind didn’t rise any further, or they would have had to turn back.
They couldn’t afford to become casualties themselves – rule number one.
“Stan, you next.”
Andy secured the winch to Stan’s harness, tightening the collar onto the carabiner to secure it.
Stan dug out the pulley system and readied himself to help the pulleys support Ben’s weight, as Ben lowered himself down the overhang.
They worked quickly and soon reached the party.
The walkers looked beyond relieved to see them.
Assessing the situation, Ben identified an unconscious middle-aged man.
Ben gave the others blankets and told them to shelter.
The main concern was a young chap who had broken his leg.
Ben assembled the plastic stretcher and with assistance, lowered the older man onto it.
He then secured him, so he could be safely hoisted upwards.
Stan operated the pulley, the stretcher across Ben’s lap.
Ben braced his legs against the mountainside, ready to protect the stretcher from listing.
Finally they reached the top and Ben saw the chopper about three hundred yards away.
Next they brought up the two women.
They were in shock and were badly bruised, but could walk.
Andy took them to the chopper.
Three people remained below.
The man with the broken leg was fast losing consciousness. When they’d first arrived, he’d been howling.
It was never a good sign when the injured became more docile.
“I need one of you to help with your friend.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered one man.
Ben inflated the splint and the patient secured, lay the stretcher across his lap.
Last man up top, they sprinted towards the helicopter.
“Get in, get in.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to take off,” Freddy yelled.
After a few thwarted attempts, Freddy managed to lift the helicopter into the air, although the wind was still blowing them about.
Ben and Andy tried to heat the injured passengers.
They were unable to rouse the man from his unconscious state.
“Freddy, ETA at Belford?”
“Ten minutes.”
The paramedics were already running out with trolleys when the helicopter landed.
“Over to you,” Andy said, as the medics put the injured men on trolleys.
“This one’s still unconscious. We’ve checked his obs.”
Ben helped the medics, whilst Andy filled them in on the status of the various patients.
“What a day,” Andy shook the water from his jacket.
“Good work, guys,” Forsythe acknowledged
,
“Just so you know, the hospital phoned, Robert McCann’s now conscious.
They still need to assess the injuries to his son’s leg, but the others are fine.
Jason, is that kettle ready yet?”
It was nine o’clock by the time Ben arrived at the B&B.
Mary was the face of concern.
“Ben, I was worried about you.
I heard you were called out.”
“I’m fine.
We’re all OK.
I’m just going to grab a quick shower.”
“Right, I’ll just put your soup on.
It’s home made chicken soup.
Is mince, potatoes and doughballs OK for you?
“Mary, that’s great.
Listen.
I’ll heat it up myself. You’ve had a long day too. Get yourself off to bed.”
“Not until you’re fed and watered. Can you believe this weather?”
The rain was coming down hard still, thundering against the windows.
Chapter Twenty Four
Ben stepped into the shower and felt the strains of the day wash away.
He hadn’t thought about Jennifer for hours.
When he was out on the mountains, it consumed him entirely and he was exhausted.
However, far from wanting a drink to help him relax further, he
wanted to call Jennifer.
He wondered if it was too late to phone and he couldn’t keep Mary waiting.
She usually went to bed around nine.
She was an old woman after all.
Dressing quickly, he jumped the stairs, two at a time and entered the dining room.
“There you go, son.”
“Thanks Mary.”
The soup tasted delicious.
It always reminded him of his childhood, coming home on a winter’s day, his mother setting a bowl of soup before him.
That and the coal fire were his two favourite winter memories and Mary provided both.
His soup demolished, he set about devouring the mince and tatties she laid before him.
“You’re hungry today, son.
Would you like some homemade apple pie?”
Sorely tempted, as Mary’s apple pie was to die for, Ben desisted. “No, I’m fine thanks. That was lovely.
I’ll clear the dishes. You’ve done enough.”
“OK, son. Goodnight.”
Ben scooted through to the living room and dialled Jennifer’s number.
He felt happy just hearing her voice. They talked for an hour or so. He told her about his day and his landlady and she told him about Maggie and the protests and about giving up her career to care for her mum.
When he rang off, he told her he’d be in touch, to arrange that abseiling trip.
Content and exhausted, Ben went to his room and picked up the
Da Vinci Code
.
Everyone had been raving about it for ages.
By the fourth line he was asleep.
Next morning, Ben realised he’d forgotten to do the dishes.
He threw on his dressing gown and hurried downstairs.
It was six thirty.
Mary was already up, drinking tea, reading the first edition of the Daily Record.
Ben knew without glancing at the dining room table, that Mary had cleaned up after him.
“Morning, Mary. Sorry about the dishes. I passed out last night.”
“Don’t you worry.
What else have I to do?
Ben thought, apart from prepare for guests every day and run around after them, nothing.
But he said nothing, as her question was rhetorical.
She always played down how hard she worked.
*
It only dawned on Ben, a few days later, as he was driving back from Inverness, that he hadn’t called his sister back.
He finally phoned her around ten, but there was no answer.
He called again at ten thirty. This time Oscar answered.
“Hey Oscar.
It’s Ben.
How you doing?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Can’t complain.
I’ve been in Inverness the last few days.”
“Oh right.
Yeah, I’ve had a long one myself.
Just got in.”
“Yeah, I tried about ten, but I got the machine.
Is Gaby in?”
“No. She’s out with a friend.”
“Can you tell her I’m really sorry I forgot to call earlier in the week?
I thought maybe we could go for lunch on Sunday.”
“I’m working.
Gaby might be up for it though.
I’ll get her to call you back.”
“Things OK between you two?” Ben had the courage to ask.
“Yeah, never better.
I mean, Gaby moans about the hours I work, but you can’t have the nice house, car, two holidays a year and not make any sacrifices.”
“S’pose not,” said Ben, although privately he wondered whether his sister cared about any of that.
“Anyway, perhaps next time you’re free, we can go for a beer.”
“Yeah.
See you.”
“Bye.” Ben hung up.
Oscar didn’t think Gaby and he had any problems, but his sister had
sounded odd the other day.
He’d make a point of seeing her at the weekend.
Now, however, he had to think about his own love life.
Much as he wanted to take Jennifer abseiling, he couldn’t wait until then.
He called Jennifer at lunchtime on Friday.
“Hi Jennifer, it’s Ben.”
“Hello. How are you?”
“Fine.
It’s been a really busy week,” and he told her about the T.A training in Inverness.
“Sounds like fun,” Jennifer enthused.
“Yes, but at whose expense?”
Jennifer laughed. “I’m sure you held your own.”
“Just. You’d swear some of them didn’t want to be there and the T.A is meant to have
enthusiastic
pupils.”
“I’m sure you’re a great teacher.”
“Mmm,” Ben wasn’t so sure.
“Listen. I know this is presumptuous and you might have an issue getting someone to sit with your mum, but I was wondering if you’d like to do something this weekend?”
“Well, I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can make arrangements in time.
Can I ring you back tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“What did you have in mind?” Jennifer barely dared to ask.
“Well, it depends on when you’re free.
The only time I can’t do is Sunday lunch, as I’m hoping to see my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes.
Gaby.”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty seven.”
“Mmm.
You can tell me all about her when we meet up.”
“I was thinking we could go to X-Scape, where they have the climbing walls and the ski slopes.”
“Oh that sounds really fun. I’ve never skied before.
I almost went to Austria once, to Kitzbuhl, but then Mum got ill and I had to cancel.”
“Well listen, best time for it is Sunday evening. If you can’t do Sunday evening, try Saturday and if you can’t do either, we could go for a coffee or have breakfast at a little cafe I know.
I don’t mind.”
“OK.
Thanks for being so understanding.
I’ll see what I can do.”
They chatted briefly and then he said he had to go.
The police were behind him and his Bluetooth headset needed recharged, as the phone was beginning to cut out on him.
Relieved, but unsurprised when the police passed him and headed down towards Ferguslie Park, Ben concentrated on the road.
Ben woke around nine thirty.
For once he hadn’t set the alarm.
It had been a long week.
He showered and put the coffee in the cafetiere.
The newspaper which he had delivered every Saturday plopped onto the mat.
Ben retrieved
The Times,
the Saturday edition of which must have weighed a couple of kilos.
He retreated into his living room, still in his bathrobe, two muscled, hairy legs poking out from underneath.
Ah, sometimes it was nice to be single, especially when you were anticipating a hot date.
He put his coffee cup on the glass table. It was bliss not to be moaned at for not putting it on a coaster.
He slid out the supplements, extracting the special offers for support tights and best ever two pairs of slip on shoes for an amazing ten pounds, as well as the house insurance, medical insurance and bank loan leaflets.
Putting them to one side, he picked up the main newspaper
.
He was just reading an engrossing article about wildlife when his mobile rang.
Jennifer.
Ben casually answered the call, as if he’d been doing something all-consuming when the phone rang and hadn’t looked at caller ID before answering.
“Ben speaking.”
“Hi Ben.
It’s Jennifer.
How are you?”
“Good thanks, not long up actually.
Just having a cup of coffee and reading the papers.
You been up long?”
“A couple of hours.
I’m usually up early to get mum to the bathroom and make breakfast.”
Ben tried to carry on from that as naturally as possible, although he couldn’t help pitying her.
Feeling awkward, he said, “Do you have good news?”
“I think so.
Either Maggie or her mum will come and sit with mum on Sunday night.”
“Fantastic.
Should I pick you up from the house?” He wasn’t sure if she’d have an issue with that because of her mum, but no, that seemed to be OK.
“Well, I’ll pick you up at five.
We can go to X-Scape for a few hours and maybe grab a bite afterwards if you have time.”
“I’ll probably need to be back no later than eleven, but we can sort that out tomorrow.”
“No, that’s great, gives me an idea.”
“Good, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you later, Jennifer.”
Ben tried Gaby after Jennifer hung up.
The answering machine picked up.
He tried her mobile.
No answer.
He left a message asking her to call him back and said he wanted them to go for lunch on Sunday.
The rest of the day passed slowly, nothing much to do, except housework and relax, but no pressure.
The phone rang around ten thirty.
“Hello?”
“Ben. It’s Gaby.”
“Ah, the wanderer returns,” Ben joked.
“Something like that,” his sister muttered.
“Is everything OK?” Ben was concerned.
“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” Gaby snapped.
“Gaby, have you got PMT or something?
You don’t usually bite my head off for asking how you are, and if you remember, when I last spoke to you, things weren’t all right .”
Sheepishly, his sister apologised.
“I’m sorry.
I’m just tired. What time do you want to do lunch tomorrow?”
“About one at
Arta
?
I’m going out tomorrow night, so I need to be free again around half three.”
“Glad you could slot me in,” but this time there was no sarcasm in his sister’s voice.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you, sis.”
“Me too.”
“See you there at one?”
“Yeah, night Ben.”
“Night.”