Rescued: Mother and Baby. Anne Fraser
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Her brother regarded her steadily. Whatever he read in her eyes must have reassured him. ‘Then I’m coming with you,’ he said, gathering his gear together. Gone was his laconic teasing mood of earlier. In its place was focus and determination.
‘What, with one arm?’ Georgie said. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’
‘Hey, me with one arm is still better than most men with two, sis. You know that.’ He grinned but she could see he was already focussing on the climb ahead.
‘Just as long as you don’t think I’m back for good,’ she said, deliberately keeping her tone light. She snapped her backpack closed. ‘C’mon, slowcoach. Let’s get going.’
It had taken half an hour of hard climbing to get where she was now. Luckily it was Kirk’s left wrist that was broken and by a series of improvisations he was able to take the strain of her weight on the rope.
‘I’m going to let myself slowly down beside you,’ she called out to the frightened child. ‘But first I’m going to drop a rope down. Tie it around your waist as best you can, okay?’
The boy nodded.
Georgie’s arms ached with tension as she lowered herself carefully onto the ledge. Gingerly she tested her weight. Good. Although there was barely enough room for her and the child, it seemed stable enough.
Quickly she crouched beside him.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked softly.
He didn’t answer. Instead, his lip started quivering and tears rolled down his cheeks. He looked at her with abject misery. Georgie guessed panic was only moments away. She had to keep him calm until help arrived. She would have to do the talking for both of them.
‘Well, I’m Georgie,’ she began matter-of-factly. ‘I’m a nurse and I used to work with Mountain Rescue. So I’ve done this kind of thing lots of time before.’ Lots of times before losing Ian, that was. She hadn’t been on a rescue mission since the accident and wouldn’t be here now if she thought she’d any choice. Whatever nightmares she carried with her, she was doing what she had to do. Even if it meant doing the very thing she had promised herself she would never do again.
‘I’m going to have a look at you then we’re going to make a plan to get you off here,’ she continued soothingly. ‘You did the right thing by staying where you were, didn’t you?’ Georgie felt along his leg. Yup, broken, as she’d suspected, but at least the bone hadn’t punctured the skin and she wasn’t dealing with a compound fracture. That was something. Gently she removed the shoe on his injured leg and felt for the pulses in his foot.
‘Can you feel me touching your toes?’ she asked.
He sniffed and nodded. Good. Circulation and nerves intact. But did he have other injuries?
‘Are you sore anywhere else? Any numbness or tingling—like pins and needles?’
The boy shook his head.
‘Okay. I’m just going to lift your T-shirt and have a quick look at your tummy and chest.’
Superficially, at least, there was no sign of anything seriously wrong. So far, so good.
She pulled the pack off her back and removed the inflatable splint.
‘I’m going to lift your leg and slip this underneath. It will hurt a bit, I’m afraid, but not for long, and once we have the splint inflated, your leg will feel a lot better.’ As gently as she could she wrapped the boy’s leg securely in the splint, his muffled cries of pain cutting into her heart.
When she’d finished, she gave him a quick hug. ‘You’re being very, very brave,’ she told him. Spasmodic shudders racked the boy’s body. It could be shock, pain or possibly internal injuries. Without proper equipment, her examination had been cursory at best. One way or another they needed to get him off the mountain and to a hospital. But how?
‘Kirk?’ she called into her radio. Her watch told her more than fifteen minutes had passed since she’d arrived on the ledge. It had only felt like a fraction of that time. ‘Okay. I’ve had a quick look. GCS is fifteen, pulse about 100, breathing normal. No obvious injuries to chest, abdomen or spine. His tibia is broken—a clean break, luckily—and I’ve splinted the leg.’
Kirk would know that they couldn’t be sure of anything until they could examine the child thoroughly and that the child needed to be taken to hospital as soon as possible. ‘There’s not a lot of room up here,’ she continued, managing a reassuring smile at the youngster, who was watching her anxiously, ‘but the ledge seems stable enough for now if we don’t make any unnecessary movements.’ She turned away and lowered her voice so that the boy couldn’t hear. ‘There’s no way we’ll be able to belay him off this ledge, though. It’s too risky.’
‘I’m ahead of you, sis,’ Kirk replied. ‘I’ve been in radio contact with RAF Gannet. They’ll be with you in less than ten minutes and I’ve told them it’s likely they’re going to have to airlift him off the ledge. Oh, and can you ask the boy who was with him? I find it hard to believe he was on his own.’
‘Copy that,’ Georgie replied, relieved that the rescue helicopter wasn’t far away. She should have known that Kirk would be on top of things. If he hadn’t broken his wrist he’d be doing the rescue rather than co-ordinating things from the foot of the cliff.
‘How’re you holding up?’ Kirk continued. Georgie could hear the concern in her brother’s voice even through the crackle of the walkie-talkie. He knew how difficult this was for her. Not technically, but emotionally.
Carefully, Georgie settled herself down next to her charge, putting an arm around him for warmth and comfort. ‘We’re both doing fine,’ she said, smiling down at the young boy. ‘We’ll sit tight and wait for the helicopter. I’ll try and find out the answer to your questions in the meantime. So far I haven’t even got a name. Speak later.’
The child, who had been listening to every word, started to cry in earnest. Georgie hugged his shoulders.
‘Everything’s going to be okay, I promise you. But we’ll need to let your mum and dad know what’s happened. Are you able to tell me your home number?’ To her dismay, the young boy cried even louder; big gulping sobs of pain and distress.
‘Hey,’ Georgie reassured him. ‘You’re not in any trouble—they’ll just be glad you’re all right.’
Waiting for the helicopter to arrive, Georgie tried again to get some information from the little boy.
‘Can you tell me your name?’ she coaxed softly.
His eyes were solemn blue pools, etched with pain and fear. ‘J-Jack,’ he whispered as his sobs subsided.
Georgie smiled. ‘Jack. That’s a very nice name. Where do you live, Jack? Here in Fort William?’
Once more his lips trembled and his eyes filled, tears spilling over.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Georgie consoled him hurriedly. ‘Accidents happen all the time, even when we’re careful.’ She swallowed memories of Ian, her words sounding hollow even to herself. How many times had she tried to tell herself the same thing? And how many times had she wondered if only? She pushed the thoughts away. Thinking like that would drive her crazy. It certainly wouldn’t bring her husband back.
The sound of a helicopter penetrated the still air and Georgie scanned the sky above. She squeezed Jack’s hand. ‘Not long now, sweetheart, until we get you out of here. And you’ll certainly have a story to tell your pals when you see them.’ The blades clattered loudly and the ground beneath them swirled with dirt as the downdraught from the aircraft battered the rock.
Georgie watched as a suited figure was lowered from the helicopter. In less than a minute he dropped, as light as a cat, onto the ledge beside them. He released himself from the rope