The Doctors' Baby (12 page)

But Em hardened her heart.

‘No,' she told him. ‘You have to leave. Shall you enquire about the cottage, or shall I?'

‘Bernard doesn't want me to go.'

‘
I
want you to go.'

He turned then, and looked at her, straight and direct across the room.

‘Really, Em? Really?'

‘Yes!'

He sighed. Did his shoulders slump just a little? Or was she imagining it?

‘OK,' he told her. ‘I'll go. If that's what you really want.'

 

Only it wasn't what she wanted at all! She lay in bed that night and asked herself if she was a fool. To reject marriage, to reject even sharing a house with him…

To reject the chance to stay with him for ever.

‘Maybe it'd work,' she whispered into the dark, and her hand crept out to touch Robby's cradle. ‘Maybe he'd learn to love us.'

But if he didn't…

It was all just too hard. She turned over and thumped her pillows, and her mind twisted into a million different maybes.

But maybes were too hard!

Maybe Jonas was right. Loving was a big, big mistake.

 

Em wanted him to go!

Well, he'd expected it, Jonas told himself. After she'd knocked back his marriage proposition, it was the only sensible decision.

She was darned lucky he intended staying on in the town.

No. That was anger speaking, and he forced anger onto the back-burner. OK, he felt anger that she'd turned down what was the most logical plan for all of them. He felt anger that she let her heart get in the way of sense.

But it wasn't sensible for either of them to want Robby,
he thought. And if Em hadn't wanted Robby, would he have wanted this marriage thing so much?

It was all muddled in his mind. Robby. Anna.

Em…

There was a whuffling under his bed, and he put a hand down to discover a large, wet tongue rasping across his hand. Bernard. Well, well. When had Bernard last moved from the comfort of Em's bed?

‘You're a dope, dog,' he muttered, thinking of where the dog had come from. ‘That's where I'd love to be.'

And then he heard what he'd said.

Was it the truth?

Yes, he acknowledged. Absolutely. Well, why not? Em was the most gorgeous woman he knew. A man would have to be insane not to want to sleep with her.

Or…marry her? That, too.

Just not love her.

‘I can't,' he told Bernard a trifle desperately. ‘I don't even know how to begin to love someone. And she'd depend on me, and it'd scare me rigid. I'm independent. I've fought all my life to be independent and that's the way I intend to stay.'

Bernard licked again, and Jonas sighed.

‘You're telling me I'm not so independent—that I can't walk away and leave everyone. That it's not just Em. It's Anna and her kids. It's Robby. And it's even you, you misbegotten mutt.'

That earned him another slurp and he grinned.

‘Hell!'

He was getting deeper and deeper into this quagmire.

‘The lady's right. I need at least to get out of here. I need to live alone.'

Only why did the thought seem so bleak?

 

Two days to Anna's radiotherapy. Then one.

‘Do you want me to come with you the first time?' Jonas asked for what must surely have been the tenth time. ‘Anna, it's not something you should face alone.'

‘Why? Does it hurt?'

‘No. It doesn't hurt at all. It's just a simple X-ray.'

‘Well, then…'

‘There'll be people there who are sicker than you,' he told her bluntly. ‘Proper cancer patients. Not frauds like you.'

That earned him a faint smile, but still Anna shook her head.

‘I can cope alone.'

‘Some people find it threatening.'

‘And so might I,' she admitted. ‘But I've never depended on anybody and I don't intend to start now. Jim's already been at me to let him come with me, and I've refused him. So back off, Jonas, and let me be.'

He had no choice but to accept her decision. He was doing a lot of that these days. And the damnable thing was that he knew, in her situation, he'd do exactly the same thing.

So he worked on through the afternoon's list of house calls, he concentrated on his medicine and he knew more and more that he could never depend on anyone. That had been knocked out of him and his sister the hard way.

But Em and Robby needed him. They needed him to stay in the town.

That was all right, he told himself. The need was on Em's side only. Not his.

He didn't need in return.

Ever.

 

It was two in the afternoon. Em was at her desk in her surgery and Jonas was out doing a house call on a farmer with gout. This was the Jonas-organised new order. Em was seeing one patient after another, enjoying the sensation that her house calls weren't mounting up as she went. When she finished surgery at six or so, Amy would be waiting to hand over Robby. Then Jonas was on call tonight, so she could get back to being Robby's mother.

Which was lovely.

Or it should have been lovely. There was still this aching need that wouldn't subside, a need that Jonas had created and not filled.

He'd asked her for marriage, but he hadn't needed her. He didn't love…

Medicine!

She needed to concentrate on medicine.

The phone rang. She winced, knowing before she picked up the receiver that it meant an emergency. She was in the middle of Erica Harris's litany of complaints and Lou didn't interrupt a consultation by putting a call through unless it was absolutely vital.

And it was. The normally unflappable Lou sounded shocked and sick.

‘Em, it's Anna Lunn's little boy, Sam.'

Em's heart sank. The voice Lou was using spelt disaster.

‘What is it?'

‘Anna has just rung, and she's almost hysterical. It seems Sam went up into the bush behind their place—the site of the old gold diggings? Apparently there's an old shaft there that hasn't been filled in. Or she says it looked filled in from the top, but it's collapsed and he's fallen. Anna says she and Matt can hear him calling from about thirty feet down, but they can't get him out. They can't
get near him. I'm ringing the emergency services but can you go out there, too?'

Of course. She'd already left. Erica Harris was left sitting with her mouth open.

‘Find Jonas,' Em snapped at Lou as she flew past. ‘Explain to Mrs Harris.'

And she was gone.

T
HE
mineshaft was about half a mile from Anna's house, back in the hills merging into the national park. Gold had been found here a hundred years ago and mine after mine had been sunk, but gradually most of them had been filled in. Some of the bigger ones had been professionally capped, but this one…

Someone had capped it, Anna told them, speaking between sobs of sheer terror, but they'd used only rough timber. Over time the timber had become covered with bush litter, the wood had rotted and Sam had stepped on the wrong spot and plunged down.

‘And I never would have found him if Matt hadn't been with him and come to get me.' Anna subsided into tears on Em's shoulder, and Em held her tightly. Willing her strength…

As well as the terror she was facing, Anna was close to exhaustion, having run to the shaft when Matt had come home screaming for his mother and then run back to the house to telephone Em and Jim. Now she was in the cab of Jim's fire engine, wedged between Em and Jim while the fire chief gunned the truck across the paddocks.

Beside Anna, Jim's face was grim. Like Em, he'd flown to Anna's assistance at the first call. He knew how lethal these mine shafts could be.

‘Are you sure he's down there?' The fire chief's voice was curt and filled with concern.

‘Matt saw him fall. He raced straight away to find me, and I ran all the way there. He's down there all right. And
he's conscious. I've spoken to him. But he sounds so deep. He's fallen so far.' She choked back a sob.

‘And I had to leave Matt there,' she whispered as she fought to collect herself. ‘I know he's too little to leave while I came for help, but it took us ages to find the hole again and I was scared Sam might stop calling. I couldn't leave Sam alone. If he can't call out there's no way we'd find where the shaft was.'

She broke right down then, and Em's hand came out to take hers. Anna was very close to breaking point anyway. So much had happened to her over the last month.

And now this…

‘You did the right thing, Anna,' she told her strongly. ‘Now leave the rest to us.'

She had no choice. She'd left Ruby with a neighbour. Once again, Anna had needed to ask for help, but she wasn't holding back. She wanted Em, and she wanted Jim and she wanted anyone else who could help. And especially…

‘Jonas,' she whispered. ‘Where's Jonas? I need him.'

Now there was an admission!

‘Lou's contacting him now,' Em told her. ‘He was out doing a house call but he'll meet us there.'

‘As soon as we find the shaft, I'll send a man back to bring him through the hills,' Jim said curtly, still concentrating on not overturning the truck. The last thing they wanted was to hit a shaft themselves, but the ground here was clear enough. When they reached the rough country they'd have to get out and walk. Slowly.

‘The kids know this isn't safe,' Jim said, and it was as if he was speaking to himself. His voice was grim with foreboding. ‘I've told them that, over and over.'

He sounded just like a parent, Em thought. He sounded as frantic as Anna was herself. She looked at the pair of
them, and they looked like partners. If only Anna would see it.

But she wasn't concentrating on partnerships now.

‘I did, too.' Anna took a deep breath. ‘But the boys were mad with me.'

‘Why?'

‘They overheard Jim asking if he could take them to the motor show in Blairglen next week,' Anna whispered. ‘And they heard me refusing.'

‘So they headed for the hills?'

‘Sam has a temper,' Anna said, and Jim nodded at that.

‘Plus he's as stubborn as a mule,' he told her. ‘Just like his mother.' Then he flicked a glance at Em's white face, and he nodded again. ‘And their uncle,' he added almost to himself. ‘You and Jonas both, Anna Lunn. Of all the damned fool families for me and Em to fall in love with…'

He didn't finish. They were at the edge of the cleared land, and they could go no further in the truck. They piled out—Anna, Jim and Em, and the six members of the fire crew from the back of the truck—and Anna led the way into the bush.

Anna shouldn't be doing this, Em thought worriedly as the men hacked through the scrub where she indicated. She was only a few weeks post-op, and if she fell on that arm, she could do herself real damage.

‘Hold Jim's hand, Anna,' she told her. ‘With your good arm. Jim, hold onto her and don't let her fall.'

‘I can manage.'

‘For heaven's sake, we have one casualty, and I don't want two,' Em snapped. ‘Stop being so darned independent and do what you're told.'

Anna cast her a scared look, Jim gave Em a thumbs-
up signal and Anna's hand was taken, whether she liked it or not.

And then they reached Matt.

The little boy was sitting completely by himself on a fallen log. He was one distraught six-year-old, and Em had never seen a child more frightened in her life. There were tears streaming down his face, and he looked as if he'd been crying for ever.

It was all Em could do not to rush forward and gather him into her arms, but Anna was there before her. Despite her still painful arm, she did just that.

‘It's OK, sweetheart. We've got help.' Somehow Anna managed to sound coherent. ‘Look, Dr Mainwaring's here…and Jim…and all these men. They'll get Sam out.'

But for Matt, it wasn't enough. He'd obviously been speaking to his big brother down the shaft, and he had someone else in mind. ‘Sam says we need Uncle Jonas,' he quavered. ‘Where's Uncle Jonas?'

‘He's right here.'

The voice came out of the bush, and Jonas emerged into the clearing like he'd been conjured.

He must have been right behind them, following the noise they were making as they bush-bashed toward the mine, and how he'd got there so fast, Em didn't know. From where he'd been doing his house call he must have moved like greased lightning. He didn't hold back as Em did, but strode forward and took Anna and Matt into his arms.

And he hugged them both.

Hard.

Then they all stared at the tiny slit in the ground that marked the entrance to the shaft.

Em's heart sank when she saw what was facing them.

The timber covering the shaft was strewn with leaves
and rotten twigs. She could see why neither boy had realised it was a shaft. It was horribly camouflaged. One of the rotten planks under the leaf litter had split, a hole about eighteen inches wide and about two feet long had appeared and Sam had slipped through.

He must have grabbed at the surrounding timber as he'd fallen, because already there were twigs covering the hole. If Matt hadn't been here to see… To guide them back…

It was a miracle that he had. They never would have found this without him.

‘Sam?' Jonas released Anna and walked to within four feet of the hole. Here the earth was mounded, tossed out by the miners a hundred years ago so he knew it was solid, but to go any closer would be suicidal.

‘Uncle… Uncle Jonas…' It was a sob of pain from way below ground, and Em closed her eyes at the sound. Not only did Sam sound like he was hurt, he also sounded like he was a long, long way down.

Thirty feet, Anna had estimated, and she couldn't be far wrong. Sam's quavery voice echoed into a whisper, sounding over and over through the bush. It was as if he was almost gone from them and only his ghost was lingering.

That
was stupid thinking, Em told herself sharply. Get a grip on yourself. The last thing anyone needed here was a hysterical doctor! Or a hysterical anybody. She looked around her, and every single face reflected her terror.

But Jonas had himself under control—sort of—and was answering his nephew.

‘We're all here, Sam,' Jonas said strongly back down to him. ‘Your mum, Dr Mainwaring, Jim and the men from the fire brigade are all here. And Matt's here, too. He led us to you like a real hero. OK, Sam.' He forced
his voice to be matter-of-fact. ‘Let's get some action. Can you tell me what you're standing on?'

And the echoing whisper came up. ‘I'm not…I'm not standing on anything.'

Not standing on anything… That was the worst possible answer. Em's stomach clenched at the thought of what it meant.

‘So what's holding you up?' Jonas said, and Em could detect a faint tremor behind the strength of his words.

Then she glanced back at movement behind her and discovered that the men from the fire brigade were unloading planks from the truck and carrying them toward the shaft. Jim wasn't wasting time.

‘My shoulders are stuck,' Sam whimpered. He caught his breath and started again. Every word was obviously a huge effort. ‘I fell and fell and then my shoulders wedged against the sides. My feet are waving in air. Uncle Jonas, my arm's really, really hurting but I'm scared to wiggle in case I fall even further.'

‘Good boy. Not moving is a really sensible decision.' Somehow Jonas had forced his voice back to normal. ‘Are your arms above your head or below?' He said it as if it didn't matter, but everyone knew that it did. Desperately. If his hands were free, maybe someone could be lowered to grasp him and he could be lifted.

But his answer was the wrong one. ‘Below. Sort of.' He gave another whimper of pain. ‘They're by my sides. One hand's stuck by my tummy, and the other's sort of wedged between my shoulder and the edge. But I can't move anything 'cos there's nothing underneath me. I'm just stuck. Uncle Jonas, I'm scared.'

‘As long as you don't move you've no reason to be scared,' Jonas told him, lying without blinking and moving aside for the firemen to lay their planks across from
the mound he was standing on to the mound on the other side of the hole. ‘Just stay absolutely still, and we'll see what the best way is to get you out of there.'

 

There wasn't a best way.

Once the men had planks across the entrance, it was Jim who lay on his belly and inched his way across to the crevice. Then he shone his torch downward.

And he said a word that was too low for Sam to hear, but was loud enough for everyone waiting to realise there were huge problems ahead of them.

‘There's been land movement here since the shaft was dug,' Jim said briefly as he carefully worked his way back. ‘The shaft sides go in and out. The shaft starts off about four foot wide—wide enough for a man to enter with ease. Then about fifteen feet down it narrows to about eighteen inches, before widening again. Sam's dropped further than that.'

‘Why?' Jonas was bewildered. ‘That doesn't make sense.'

‘There was a land tremor here about ten years back,' Jim said briefly. ‘A lot of these mines caved in then, but it's my guess this one's just contorted. We'll need to set up mirrors to check for sure, but the shaft seems to narrow again where Sam's stuck. All I can see is Sam's head, and I can tell it's that because I know what I'm looking for. He's so far down… He's stuck firmly by the shoulders—he hasn't even got enough free movement to look up and see the beam of my torch.'

There was silence while this was absorbed. Then Anna gave a racking sob, and Jonas's arm came round her, holding her up. Willing her strength to face what had to be faced.

‘We'll get him out, Anna,' he said confidently, then added to Jim, ‘Can you get me down there?'

‘No way, mate,' Jim told him. ‘As I said, the first narrowing's at about fifteen feet. It's too narrow for you to slide through, and if you dislodge any rocks trying then you'll crush Sam.'

‘What'll we do?' Anna whispered brokenly. ‘Jim… Jonas… Dear God…'

There was no easy answer.

‘I want floodlights and mirrors,' Jim said decisively. The fire chief might be emotionally involved but he was still very much in charge. ‘We have rods with sights so we can check everything without going down ourselves. The mirrors are designed for looking around corners where we can't. No one goes near that hole until we've had a thorough look at what we're facing.' He took a deep breath. ‘Mind you, we still won't be able to tell what depth of shaft Sam has beneath him. Does anyone know how far these shafts drop?'

‘My grandpa used to work up in the hills around here,' one of the firemen volunteered. The man was looking as sick as every person there. This was the stuff of nightmares. ‘He says there was an old river bed they tried to reach, where the gold lode ran. He's told me…'

‘Yes?'

The man's voice had faltered. Now he lifted his head and met Jim's eyes. He deliberately didn't look at Anna. ‘He's told me the shafts bottomed at about two hundred feet. That means…if the kid's shoulders slip through from where he's stuck, he has another a hundred and fifty feet to fall. Or more.'

 

Jim's array of mirrors gave them no comfort at all. It was just as he'd guessed by torchlight—the mine was a shaft
about four feet wide, narrowing for a few feet where the land tremor had buckled it, broadening for another ten feet or so and narrowing again where Sam was wedged. They could only imagine the drop underneath.

‘There's only one thing to do,' Jim said at last, and he bit his lip so hard a fleck of blood appeared on the broken skin.

‘Which is?' Jonas's voice was hoarse with fear. ‘Hell, man, we have to do something.' There was so little they could do when even approaching the shaft meant a fear of rocks falling on the little boy's head.

‘There's been cases like this before,' Jim said. He sounded surer than his white face let on. ‘I've read about them. It'll take a while but it's proved to be only way. I'll organise the equipment now.'

‘To do what?'

‘We dig a shaft beside this one,' he told them. ‘About ten feet away. Far enough not to dislodge anything in Sam's shaft. We dig down to a few feet below Sam, then we tunnel across, meet his shaft, stick in a false floor and come up underneath him.'