Emergency: Christmas

Mark was driving Penelope’s small hatchback car. It had been his own suggestion and Penelope had been happy to hand over the keys. Now she could really relax and enjoy whatever the afternoon had to offer. She loved the drive around the harbour and one of the houses Mark had lined up to view was quite remote—right out past Scorching Bay.

‘You need to get into the right-hand lane here,’ she directed. ‘We want to go through the Mount Victoria tunnel and then follow the main road down to the harbour.’ Penelope watched as Mark checked the rear-view mirrors and indicated their lane change.

‘It would be at least a twenty-minute drive to the hospital from Scorching Bay,’ she warned Mark. ‘Probably a lot more in heavy traffic. Won’t that be a hassle?’

‘Could be worth it,’ Mark responded. ‘It’s not as if we’re on call and have to come in to work at a moment’s notice. We have set shift hours. Sometimes you need to be able to put real distance between home and work. Especially in a department like ours.’

Penelope agreed readily. Emergency medicine was usually full on. Huge numbers of patients could often take a heavy toll on both professional and personal resources.

‘What do you do, Penny? To switch off from work?’

‘Sleep mostly.’ Penelope laughed. ‘And spend time with friends.’

‘Any particular friends?’ Mark’s query was casual but Penelope sensed he was sounding out whether she had a man in her life. She suppressed the pang of guilt firmly.

‘Only Bindy. Belinda Scott,’ she elaborated in response to the questioning expression Mark gave her. ‘She’s a nurse in Emergency, too. Tall. Long, reddish hair.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Mark nodded. He had noticed Belinda. Of course he had. Any man would have noticed Belinda.

‘She’s my flatmate.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘We share a townhouse tucked up on Mount Victoria. Right on the border of the park. One of the walkways goes past our back door. Bindy often drags me out running. She’s an exercise freak.’

‘And you’re not?’

‘Not really,’ Penelope confessed. She looked down at her sturdy, denim-clad legs and her laugh was self-deprecating. ‘Can’t you tell?’

‘No,’ Mark responded promptly. He flashed her a sideways grin. ‘I’m a bit of couch potato myself. You look just fine to me. Are we still in the right lane here?’

‘Yes. There’s a big roundabout coming up. We go left and that’ll take us onto Shelly Bay Road. Just keep the harbour on your left after that and we can’t go wrong.’ Penelope stole a glance at her companion. There wasn’t much wrong with the way Mark looked even if he was a couch potato, which was doubtful. He wasn’t particularly tall—maybe five nine or ten—and his shoulders were broad for his height so he couldn’t be considered lean, yet the impression he gave was one of nice proportions. Maybe it was his colouring that was appealing. The black hair and very dark green eyes. Or maybe it was his laid-back manner. Quiet but confident. Friendly but thoughtful at the same time. Penelope had the feeling that Mark’s loyalty might not be given easily but once it was given it would be there to stay. She liked that. Mark had the makings of being a good friend.

The silence between them was quite comfortable but Penelope wanted to talk. She wanted to learn more about him.

‘I’ve got a sister in Wellington as well. Rachael. She’s the only one in my family left here so I try and see her as much as I can.’ Penelope made a mental note to call her sister when she got home. She hadn’t tried very hard lately to spend time with Rachael but it hadn’t been until her conversation with Belinda yesterday that she had realised why she had been unconsciously avoiding contact. Jealousy was a poisonous emotion and Penelope had no intention of letting its tentacles gain any more of a hold on her life. ‘Rachael’s a vet,’ she told Mark brightly. ‘She’s three years younger than me and she’s expecting her first baby next year. She and Tom are very excited.’

‘I can imagine.’ Mark’s smile looked almost wistful. Penelope wondered if he had yearnings for a family himself. Or did he already have one? An ex-wife and a few children tucked away somewhere? He hadn’t needed reminding of the direction to take at the roundabout. They headed out along Shelly Bay Road.

‘That will make you an aunt,’ Mark observed. ‘Is that a first for you?’

‘Hardly!’ Penelope laughed. ‘My oldest sister, Sandra, has two children and my brother, John, has three. Sandra lives in Auckland, though, and John’s been in Australia for ten years so I’ve never seen much of those nieces and nephews. Rachael’s baby will be the first one I’ll have a lot to do with.’ It would also be the first pregnancy to watch developing. The first pregnancy to be expected to discuss in intimate detail and the first nursery to help plan. Of course Rachael didn’t want to talk about anything else these days. Penelope would have been exactly the same.

‘You’re very lucky to have such a big family,’ Mark told her. ‘I was an only child.’

‘I wanted to be an only child.’ Penelope grinned.

‘Why?’ Mark sounded astonished.

‘Both my sisters are very clever and beautiful. And they’ve both got blonde hair.’ Penelope was still smiling. ‘I was the black sheep of the family.’

Mark’s glance was admonishing. ‘Stop putting yourself down,’ he directed firmly. ‘You’re an extremely attractive woman.’

‘Thanks.’ Penelope glanced away in embarrassment. Heavens, she hoped that Mark didn’t think she had been fishing for a compliment. She bit her bottom lip, torn between embarrassment and pleasure. That was twice in two days that someone had commented positively on her looks. Even if one of them had been a rather weird patient, it was still flattering. Penelope let her gaze sweep the harbour with its usual level of interesting shipping activity as she tried to think of something casual to say.

The inter-island ferry was just leaving the wharf on the far side. A huge container ship was waiting its turn to dock, two tugboats guarding its bows. Several small fishing vessels were out and a keen yachtsman in a small craft was making the most of the stiff breeze, bouncing over the choppy water close to the road.

‘Not the best day for sailing.’ Penelope needed to break the short silence that was vaguely uncomfortable for the first time. She didn’t want Mark to think that he had stepped over a boundary and said something unwelcome. The comment sounded deliberately casual, however, and made Penelope feel more, rather than less, uncomfortable.

Mark’s glance was reassuring. Penelope suspected he had noticed her discomfort and was quite happy to take their conversation in whatever direction she preferred.

‘It does look a bit rough out there.’ Mark’s gaze was now back on the road. He was negotiating its frequent turns competently. ‘I can see why they’ve got that metal barrier fence between us and the harbour. This wouldn’t be a pleasant drive in really bad weather.’

‘No, and Wellington is renowned for delivering plenty of that.’

‘So the myth is based on reality? I grew up in the South Island,’ Mark told her. ‘In Dunedin. We all knew Wellington’s reputation for foul weather but I thought it might be exaggerated. Dunedin’s not exactly tropical.’

‘I’m ashamed to say I’ve never been that far south,’ Penelope confessed. ‘We used to have summer camping holidays around Nelson but that’s right up the top of the South Island and the weather was always perfect as I remember it.’

‘Childhood summer holidays always seem to have had great weather, don’t they?’ Mark looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe we just don’t remember the bad stuff. I used to go and stay with some cousins in Central Otago. It was wonderful.’

‘Did you do your training in Dunedin?’

Mark nodded. ‘I moved to Australia as a registrar and then went to England for a few years. Too long,’ he added quietly.

‘You didn’t like it?’

‘The job was great. That’s where I fell in love with emergency medicine. Things didn’t work out in the end, though.’ Mark paused for a second as though considering how much he wanted to say on the topic. An imperceptible shake of his head and a brighter tone to his voice suggested he had chosen a new direction. ‘No hope of getting a consultancy there. I would have been a grandfather by the time I stopped being a senior registrar.’

Penelope blinked. ‘So you’ve got children, then?’

‘What?’ Mark was startled. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘One generally needs to have kids to become a grandfather. Hard to skip that bit.’

Mark laughed. ‘It was just an expression. I’ve never been married and I haven’t got any children, though I certainly hope to one of these days. Hopefully not too far in the future. I’m not getting any younger.’

‘Join the club,’ Penelope said with feeling. ‘I turned thirty earlier this year. It’s kind of a major milestone.’

‘Hardly remember it,’ Mark said cheerfully. ‘Wait until you’re pushing forty and you’ll really have something to worry about.’

‘You’re not pushing forty, are you?’ Penelope’s glance was surprised. No hints of significant grey were obvious in Mark’s dark hair and the lines around his eyes looked far more attributable to laughter than advancing age.

‘I’m thirty-six,’ Mark told her. ‘Definitely on the downward slide.’

‘Yeah, right!’ Penelope returned his smile. So. Mark was looking to settle down. He wanted a family. He’d never been married. And here he was starting a new job in a new city and he was living in single quarters. Was he looking for a house because someone significant in his life was planning to join him in Wellington? Somehow, Penelope didn’t think this was the case.

‘What brought you back to New Zealand?’ Penelope found herself asking. ‘Besides the lack of career advancement in England.’

‘I left England nearly two years ago,’ Mark responded after a tiny pause. ‘I’ve been in Auckland but I knew it wasn’t where I wanted to settle down. It was just the first job that came up when I decided to leave.’ Mark’s tone suggested that he’d taken the first escape route that had presented itself. What had he been escaping from? Professional dissatisfaction or something rather more personal? Penelope instinctively knew that it wasn’t a subject either of them were ready to discuss. It was time to move back to safer territory.

‘You’ll find Wellington’s weather a bit of a shock after Auckland,’ she commented. She cringed slightly as she finished her sentence. Couldn’t she think of something more original than the weather for a change of subject?

Mark didn’t seem to mind. ‘It rains all the time in Auckland,’ he said obligingly. ‘Very depressing. It’s hot and wet.’

‘It’s cold and wet here.’ Penelope smiled. ‘And Auckland’s storms have nothing on ours. Wellington’s storms are unique. Gale-force winds blowing in from Cook Straight and rain that goes sideways.’

‘But on a nice day it’s perfect,’ Mark pointed out. ‘It must be one of the prettiest cities in the country with the hills and this harbour.’

‘Sure,’ Penelope agreed. ‘On a nice day it’s perfect. All three of them a year,’ she added mischievously.

Mark laughed. ‘Just as well I enjoy the benefits of bad weather, then.’

‘Such as?’

‘Roaring log fires. Hot soup. The security of being shut away in a house with the sound of rain beating down on a tin roof.’

The notion of being shut away in front of a roaring fire with Mark wasn’t unpleasant. Penelope could almost hear the rain on the roof. She stared ahead in silence for a minute as she allowed herself to enjoy the contemplation. The road opened to a reasonably straight stretch with the next bend well ahead. The barrier fence flashed past on their left, cutting them off from the drop to a narrow, rocky foreshore and steep slope into the water. The breeze was whipping up tiny whitecaps on the surface of the harbour. To their right, the land sloped upwards. The houses were becoming much sparser and many of the dwellings were concealed above gardens of hardy native trees.

Penelope was aware of the child in her peripheral line of vision even as her attention was caught by the large, brightly coloured ball bouncing onto the road well ahead of them.

‘Oh, my God!’ The words were torn from Penelope as she stared in horror at the rapidly unfolding scene.

The small child followed the ball onto the road just as an oncoming car was rounding the next bend. The driver in the small red hatchback that was a close match to Penelope’s own car had no time to brake. Penelope registered the panicked expression on the woman’s face as she wrenched at her steering-wheel. Without even slackening its pace, the hatchback swerved onto the other side of the road, heading straight towards Penelope’s car. She could feel her seat belt digging in across her body painfully as Mark slammed on the brakes.

Only inches separated Penelope and Mark from the doomed vehicle as it careered past them. The red hatchback was skidding now, any attempt at braking clearly ineffective. Its speed was unabated as it broke through the metal barrier fence marking the harbour side of the roadway. The car was airborne for what seemed like several seconds. Then it hit a large rock before ploughing into the murky grey water of the harbour.

The sound of the impact was shocking, coming in the split second after Mark had brought Penelope’s car to a complete halt and the engine had stalled. They were close to the child themselves now. The small girl stood in the middle of the road, bewildered by what was happening. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and gazed unblinkingly at Penelope. Shouting could be heard from the property the child had emerged from. Frantic shouting that indicated the child’s mother had seen the accident.

Penelope felt her chin being gripped firmly. She turned her head under the pressure from the fingers holding her to find Mark staring at her intently, his brow furrowed with concern.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Penelope’s voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat. ‘My God, Mark... The woman in that car...’

‘I know.’ Mark was unclipping his safety belt. ‘Get the child off the road, Penny, and tell her mother to call the emergency services. I’m going to see what I can do.’ He paused as he climbed out, reaching to push the hazard light switch. ‘Park a bit further down the road and leave the hazard lights on. Flag down anyone that comes past. We might need some more help.’

The reassurance from Mark’s instant concern for her own well-being above any others’ was enough to galvanise Penelope out of her stunned immobility. She scrambled from the car and scooped up the small girl who was still standing in the middle of the road. A woman was running towards them.

‘Tiffany!’ The mother’s shout ended in a distraught sob. Her arms were outstretched for her daughter as she reached Penelope. ‘Is she all right?’

‘She’s fine. The car didn’t touch her.’ Penelope handed the child to her mother. The little girl took one look at her mother’s face and burst into tears.

‘Can you go and ring the emergency services?’ Penelope was already turning away. ‘I need to shift my car.’

Another vehicle pulled to a halt as Penelope positioned her car. An elderly man rolled down his window. ‘What’s happened?’

‘An accident.’ Penelope could see Mark. He had scrambled over the rocks and was now almost waist deep in water. He seemed to be using all his strength to try and open one of the doors of the red car. The attempt was unsuccessful and he began wading rapidly to the other side of the small hatchback.

‘I’ve got a cellphone,’ the man told Penelope. ‘Shall I ring triple one?’

‘Yes.’ Penelope didn’t know whether the child’s mother would have reached her telephone yet and it wouldn’t matter anyway. Better for the emergency services control room to have too many calls than not enough. ‘Tell them that the occupant of the car appears to be trapped.’

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