St Piran's: Daredevil, Doctor...Dad!. Anne Fraser

are coming about five minutes apart. The mother’s name is Jenny Hargreaves. She tells us she was due to be delivered by section at St Piran’s so you should have her case notes there.’

      There was a short silence. Abby guessed Dr Gibson was bringing up Jenny’s record on her computer screen.

      ‘I’ll make sure neonatal intensive care is standing by and that we have a theatre ready. How long d’you think before you’ll have her here for us?’

      ‘Another ten minutes until we land. If we can. Say another ten to examine our lady and get her loaded and twenty back. Do you think we’ll make it?’ Again there was that easy smile as if this was just another everyday callout.

      ‘If anyone can, you can,’ came back the reply. ‘But if she’s gone into active labour she could be bleeding massively and you may have to section her there and then. It won’t be easy.’

      ‘Hell, whoever said anything is easy in this job? But trust me.’ He turned and winked at Abby. ‘If I can get her to you without having to section her, I will.’ He flexed long fingers. ‘Been a long time since I did one of those.’

      ‘Good luck,’ Dr Gibson said calmly.

      A short while later they reached the farm. To Abby’s relief the pilot had been able to find a spot to land. The helicopter rotors had barely slowed when Mac hefted the large medical bag over his shoulder.

      ‘Okay, we’re on. Remember to keep your head down.’ Abby took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer towards heaven, and followed him out of the helicopter.

      Mac sprinted towards the farmhouse, carrying the medical case that weighed at least ten kilos as if it were nothing. Abby ran after him, doing her best to keep up.

      A child with wide, frightened eyes was waiting for them by the doorway.

      ‘Please hurry, my mum is bleeding,’ the boy said.

      This was the worst possible news. Jenny being in labour was one thing, but they had banked on having enough time to get her to hospital. If she had started bleeding it meant that the placenta was beginning to detach. As it did, the baby’s life support system became compromised and the life of the mother was in jeopardy. It would have been dangerous enough in hospital, but all Abby and Mac had was some morphine and basic equipment. It wasn’t good. Abby’s heart jumped to her throat.

      Mac paused by the doorway and hunkered down so that he was at eye level with the boy. He placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.

      ‘What’s your name, son?’

      ‘Tim.’

      ‘It’s going to be all right, Tim, I promise. Now, if you could take us to your mum, we’ll look after her.’

      Whatever Tim saw in Mac’s eyes seemed to reassure him. He nodded and led them inside the farmhouse and into a bedroom. On the bed, a woman lay writhing with pain. She was pale and her eyes were stretched wide with fear.

      Abby and Mac rushed to her side.

      ‘Jenny, isn’t it?’ Mac said as he laid the medical case on the floor. ‘I’m Dr MacNeil and this is Abby Stevens. We’re going to do everything we can to look after you and your baby.’

      Abby felt Jenny’s pulse.

      ‘Over one hundred and thready,’ she told Mac as she unwrapped the stethoscope from around her neck.

      ‘How long have you been bleeding? And when did the contractions start? ‘ Mac asked.

      ‘I just started bleeding a few minutes ago. The contractions started about an hour ago. I phoned the hospital and they said they would get an ambulance.’ Jenny reached out a hand and squeezed Abby’s fingers hard. ‘You have to save my baby. Please. You’ve got to help us.’

      ‘We are going to do everything possible,’ Abby replied with what she hoped was a confident smile.

      She checked Jenny’s blood pressure. As expected, it was low. Jenny was already bleeding heavily.

      ‘I’m just going to give you some fluids through a needle in your vein,’ Mac explained as he swabbed a patch of skin near Jenny’s elbow. ‘Then we’re going to get you onto a stretcher and into the air ambulance, okay?’

      ‘What about Tim? I can’t leave him here by himself. My husband isn’t due back until tomorrow morning.’

      ‘Is there a neighbour we could call for you?’

      Jenny shook her head. ‘We only moved here a couple of months ago. I don’t know anyone yet. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the new baby.’

      ‘In that case, Tim can come in the helicopter with us. How about it, Tim? ‘ Mac turned to the little boy who had remained by the door, taking everything in with wide eyes.

      ‘Wicked,’ he said. Now adults were taking control, the colour had returned to his face.

      Mac finished setting up the drip.

      ‘Okay, Jenny. The helicopter’s just outside waiting to take you to hospital. We’re going to get you on board as quickly as we can.’

      Jenny clutched her stomach as another contraction took hold. ‘Just get me to the hospital,’ she said through gritted teeth. Then she forced a smile and turned to her son. ‘Tim will help, won’t you, love? ‘

      Tim’s terror had disappeared. Whether it was because they were there helping his mother or whether it was the excitement of the helicopter ride, Abby didn’t know or care. All that mattered was that the boy was calm. It would help Jenny and give them one less thing to worry about.

      Abby draped a blanket round her patient before strapping her into the stretcher. As they carried her outside, Abby tried not to wince when a contraction gripped the mother and she squeezed Abby’s fingers with ferocious strength.

      Please let her hang in there, Abby prayed silently. At least until they got her to hospital. She slid a glance at Mac. Nothing in his demeanour indicated that at any time they could be dealing with a life-and-death scenario. Was he really as calm as he appeared?

      Inside the helicopter they attached Jenny to the onboard monitoring equipment and pumped fluids into her. Abby checked the fetal heartbeat again. So far so good.

      As soon as they had Jenny settled and the helicopter was heading towards St Piran’s, Mac raised his thumb to Tim. Greg had given the boy a helmet and earmuffs to deaden the noise.

      Tim returned the salute, unable to hide his excitement.

      Abby slid a glance at Mac as he leaned over Jenny. He puzzled her. Everything about him contradicted the image of him she had held in her head for the last twelve years. Whenever she’d thought about him, she’d imagined an ageing Lothario chatting up young women on the beach under the pretext of teaching them how to windsurf, not this caring and utterly professional doctor.

      Even if it was obvious from his behaviour when they’d met as well as Lucy’s comments that he still was a blatant flirt she liked the way he had taken the time to reassure Tim.

      Her thoughts were interrupted as the helicopter touched down on the hospital landing pad. Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief. They had made it!

      ‘Stick close to me,’ Mac said to Tim after removing the young lad’s helmet.

      The helicopter’s rotors hadn’t even stopped when the hospital staff were there to take charge of Jenny. The transfer was quick. Mac and Abby updated the hospital staff as they ran next to the trolley with Tim following closely behind.

      ‘Thanks, guys. We’ll take it from here,’ the doctor Mac had addressed as Dr Gibson said.

      They watched as Jenny disappeared from view.

      ‘C’mon, Tim. Why don’t we get you a drink or something?’ Abby offered, knowing that now the excitement of the helicopter journey was over the boy would start fretting again. ‘And in the meantime