In the Boss's Arms. Barbara Hannay
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not getting anything.’ He struggled with Joe’s harness. ‘I’ll have to get him out of this seat.’
Alice sent a hasty, terrified glance out of the nearest porthole to the grassy paddocks and bush below. Miles and miles below. At least the plane wasn’t doing anything dreadful like spiralling downwards the way they did in war movies.
‘Do you think he’s had a heart attack?’ She knew she sounded panicky.
‘How the hell would I know?’
She remembered seeing the antacid Joe had taken earlier. Had he taken it because he’d felt chest pain and thought he had indigestion? If he’d had a heart attack, they would have to get help fast or he would die. Oh, God, what was she thinking? They were all going to die if their pilot couldn’t land the plane.
In the confined space it was a terrible struggle but at last Liam managed to drag Joe and together they set him in the tiny aisle, on his side in the recovery position.
‘You’ll have to look after him, while I try to get help on the radio,’ Liam told her.
‘OK,’ she said, thinking she would need to be a contortionist to attempt CPR in the available space. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Good girl.’
She looked up quickly. Liam’s face was pale, his expression grim—just this side of terrified—but he managed a reassuring smile.
‘I don’t suppose you know how to fly a plane?’ she asked.
‘’Fraid not. But the plane must be set on autopilot. We don’t seem to have lost altitude, so that gives us a bit of leeway while we try for some help.’
She gave a brief nod, an even briefer smile. ‘Good luck.’
He was already climbing into the pilot’s seat, and she turned her attention to the unconscious man. He needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and CPR. She hoped to God she could remember the procedure.
She checked Joe’s airway and began to breathe for him. After the initial weirdness of putting her mouth to a stranger’s, she settled into the rhythm. One breath every four seconds.
‘Mayday! Mayday!’ Liam was shouting.
How scary those words sounded. But at least he’d figured out how to work the radio.
Alice wished she was braver. She knew she mustn’t think about the plane crashing, but horrific images of their tiny cabin smashing into hard earth kept jumping into her head.
Don’t let your mind go there! Get a grip! Be disciplined. Focus on Joe, on the breathing.
She could hear Liam shouting to someone, explaining about their pilot’s collapse. Thank heavens he’d made contact. She felt a tiny bit calmer. And remembered to pray.
‘We’re close to Redhead Downs,’ Liam was saying, and then he gave their position from a control-panel monitor and reeled off a string of numbers—something to do with the plane.
She finished a round of breathing and checked again for the pilot’s pulse. Beneath her fingertips, she felt a tiny beat. Dear God, thank you. She wouldn’t need to apply CPR. But Joe still wasn’t breathing, so she began again on another round of mouth-to-mouth.
‘OK,’ Liam was shouting into the radio. ‘I’ve found the airspeed dial. It says we’re flying at—er—one hundred and twenty knots. Is that OK? It is? Great!’
Alice kept up the rhythmic breathing. Surely Joe would revive soon? As she worked she could hear the voice on the radio explaining the basic controls to Liam, and the confident replies Liam gave to each set of instructions. Wow! How did he stay so calm?
In the midst of terror, there was something commanding about his manner, something reassuring. Perhaps it was an illusion created by broad shoulders?
But the illusion was destroyed when Liam yelled, ‘Brace yourself back there. We’re already approaching the Redhead Downs airstrip. I’m going to have to land this thing soon.’
Alice’s chest squeezed like a vice, breaking the rhythm of her breathing. She had a vision of the ground racing up to meet them, fancied she heard the shriek of ripping metal, the blast of an explosion. Pain.
Idiot, stop that right now!
She heard a faint groan and stared hard at Joe. Had he made that noise? Was his colour improving? Surely he looked a little pinker?
He groaned again and coughed.
‘Joe’s alive!’ she screamed.
Liam was too busy focusing on instructions from the radio to reply.
Joe clutched at his stomach.
‘He’s coming round,’ shouted Alice.
‘Can he talk?’ Liam called back to her.
Alice gave the poor man a shake. ‘Hey, Joe, wake up. We need you!’
‘Ask him if the plane has fixed or retractable landing gear,’ yelled Liam.
‘Joe,’ Alice shouted. ‘What kind of landing gear does this plane have?’
There was no reply. Joe’s face was pale again and beaded with sweat.
‘Please, Joe,’ urged Alice. ‘Tell me about the landing gear.’
‘Fixed,’ he whispered.
‘Fixed,’ she called back to Liam.
‘Fixed,’ Liam shouted into the radio. ‘Hallelujah! We’ve got wheels!’
His excitement was contagious. Suddenly it seemed possible that somehow Liam was going to land this plane. They were going to be all right. Alice felt a surge of courage. She was going to have faith. Now. Even when poor Joe rolled onto his side and groaned wretchedly, she remained calm.
She found a hand towel and a bottle of water in her backpack and washed his face. His eyes flickered open.
‘Sorry about this. Think it must be food poisoning.’ And then he tried to sit up. ‘I’m all right now. I’ll take over.’ But he’d no sooner spoken than his face turned as white as paper and he sank backwards again, clutching his stomach.
‘If you try to fly and keep blacking out we won’t make it, Joe. The best way you can help is by lying still and staying conscious. That way, Liam can ask you questions.’
Eyes closed, he nodded.
She dampened the towel again and mopped the beads of perspiration on his brow, and as she worked she watched Liam in her periphery.
From her point of view he looked perfectly cool and collected, but she knew that was impossible. He’d never flown a plane before. He would be fighting fear every second.
‘I can see the landing strip now,’ he was telling his instructor on the radio and he sounded remarkably calm. ‘Yes, I’m pulling back on the throttle, reducing power. Yes.’
Joe grabbed Alice’s elbow. ‘Tell him he mustn’t let the nose drop more than six inches below the horizon.’
She relayed the message at the top of her voice.
‘Doing my best,’ was Liam’s grim-voiced reply.
She could feel the plane’s descent and panic rose again, but she pushed it away from her. She had faith in Liam Conway. He was going to make this. They were going to be safe.
Joe’s eyes were shut and she wondered if he’d fainted again, but when the sound of the motor suddenly changed his eyes opened and his head snapped back.
‘Pull all the way back on the throttle,’ he shouted.
‘Pull all the way back on the throttle,’ Alice repeated.
‘I’m pulling!’
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