The phone was swept out of her hands. 'Roger? Dan McKay speaking. What's this about a doctor? Fill me in, will you?' His voice was astonishingly steady and firm, as was the hand that pushed Cassie's shoulder down till she was sitting on the bed. Only then did she realise how much she was shaking.
'I see... Yes... I don't need to write it down. I'll remember... I'll let you know when we'll be arriving... If I don't get him, I'll get someone else... What? No. No, of course I don't blame anyone. Accidents happen... Yes, I'll be in touch soon.'
He hung up, but was instantly punching out other buttons, making calls, giving orders. Cassie was dazed by the astonishing change in Dan's manner. What kind of man was this she was married to? One moment totally stricken, the next, a powerhouse of decision-making.
Yet she was immensely grateful for his taking charge, only now fully aware of how close to breaking down she was.
'Come, Cassie,' he grabbed her elbow, lifting her forcibly to her feet. 'We have things to do. Quickly. No, leave our luggage...'
There was no time for tears, no time for talk, no time to give in to the sickening lump of fear growing inside her. Cassie was whizzed across the city into the emergency section of St Vincent's Hospital, where she stayed in the taxi while Dan literally ran inside. The minutes passed— precious, life-ebbing minutes. She kept thinking of her little boy lying in a hospital bed, fluid building up on his brain, building, building till something burst...
She prayed crazy, bribing prayers. Please, God, if you spare him, I won't ask that Dan ever love me. Let him hate me if it will make any difference! I'll do anything...anything... Only let my son live!
Suddenly Dan was back, a big, brusque man in a white coat accompanying him, who looked quite disgruntled. 'This is highly irregular,' he was muttering. 'Highly irregular...'
Dan glared at the doctor, who glared back before looking over at Cassie's startled, strained face. Her eyes clung to him, appealingly, desperately. 'Oh, please,' she begged.
His face gentled. 'Right!' he gruffed. 'We're on our way.'
The two men climbed in, the doctor in front, Dan beside Cassie. The taxi lurched off, but they had now caught the peak hour and were often held up for minutes at a time without moving. No one spoke. Cassie found the delays and the silence unnerving. She started to talk, more to herself, than anyone.
'Strange how things turn out. There I was on my way to Sydney thinking that I would never let Jason go up in that helicopter again. I was worried about it crashing. And what happens? He gets hurt at cricket. Cricket...' She let out a ragged, trembling sigh. 'You worry and worry, trying to keep them safe, trying to foresee the dangers. But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter what you do, things happen ‑'
Her head snapped round at the sound Dan made. It was ghastly. Tormented.
'Yes,' he rasped. 'But do they have to keep happening? First ‑' He stopped, bruising her heart with a brief, haunted look before he wrenched his eyes away. 'And now Jason,' he said raggedly as he stared steadfastly through the side window.
Cassie's heart went out to him. To lose a wife, then to be in fear of losing a son was surely more than any man could bear. Her hand slipped along the margin of seat between them. She picked up his hand and pressed it gently.
Dan's eyes jerked across. He glared first at her, then down at their linked hands.
'He'll be all right,' she whispered soothingly. 'He has to be.'
He looked at her with eyes that were in hell. 'You don't know, or understand, Cassie. But if I lose Jason too...' He closed his eyes, his whole body slumping, his hand cold and lifeless within hers.
Cassie's spirits sank to rock-bottom and silent tears began to fall. Dan was right. She didn't know. They might already be too late.
It was half-past seven by the time the two helicopters reached the Northern Rivers District Hospital. They landed in the car park, the doctor sprinting ahead into the hospital. Dan and Cassie climbed out and walked together in a tense black silence across the bitumen, up the wide steps and into the lighted foyer.
'Cassie!'
She looked up to see her mother and Roger hurrying towards them. 'Cassie, darling, thank God you're here. Jason's holding on, but ‑' Joan threw her arms around her daughter and burst into tears.
It was a long night. After examining Jason the doctor ordered immediate surgery to relieve the build-up of cranial pressure, and, despite Roger's suggestion they would be better off waiting at home, all four of them remained in the hospital waiting-room into the small hours of the morning. The tension between the group was so high that neither Roger nor Joan seemed to notice Dan's odd behaviour. He made no attempt to be with his new wife as he either paced the floor or sat in grim silence in one of the chairs. He refused all offers of coffee and had visibly aged ten years.