‘So we’ll give you some gas and air to breathe while we check it out,’ Jack said immediately, reaching into his rucksack. ‘I want you to take some slow breaths. Great—perfect.’ He looked at Bryony. ‘Right, can you cut that boot off and let’s see what we’re dealing with here? And make it quick. She’s cold and we need to get her into a casualty bag.’
Bryony sliced through the laces and gently removed the boot and then the sock. ‘The ankle is very swollen,’ she murmured, and Pamela gave a little groan and took several more breaths of the gas and air. ‘Could you put any weight on it after you fell, Pamela?’
The woman shook her head. ‘It was agony. I fell straight away, that’s how I cut my wrist.’
‘What do you reckon, Blondie?’ Jack asked, his arm around Pamela as he supported her.
‘She’s tender over the distal fibula and the lateral malleolus,’ Bryony said quickly. ‘I think it’s probably a fracture. She’s going to need X-rays when we get her down.’
‘So we splint it now, give her some more analgesia and then get her into a casualty bag until the rest of the team gets here with the Bell,’ Jack said decisively, his arm still round Pamela. ‘You’re going to be fine, Pamela.’
Pamela groaned. ‘Have I broken it? And why do you need a bell?’
‘A Bell is a type of stretcher that we use, and it looks as though you might have broken your ankle,’ Jack said, watching as Bryony pulled out the rest of the equipment. ‘Don’t you worry. We’re going to make you comfortable. We have these amazing fleecy bags that are very snug. In a moment you’re going to feel like toast. Did you hear about the blonde who ordered a take-away pizza? The waiter asked her if she wanted it cut into six slices or twelve—’ swiftly he helped Bryony apply the splint ‘—and she said, “Six, please. I could never eat twelve.”’
‘Just ignore him, Pamela,’ Bryony advised with a smile. ‘He doesn’t know the meaning of politically correct and frankly it’s amazing he hasn’t been arrested before now. If I didn’t need him to carry you down this mountain, I’d push him off the cliff myself.’
But despite the pain she was obviously suffering, Pamela was smiling. ‘He’s making me laugh, actually.’
Bryony groaned. ‘Don’t tell him that or he’ll tell you blonde jokes all the way down the mountain. Trust me, you’d rather be left on your own in the snow than have to listen to Jack in full flow.’
She and Jack kept up their banter, taking Pamela’s mind off the situation she was in, working together with swift efficiency. They’d just got Pamela into a casualty bag when the rest of the team approached out of the snow. Bryony’s brother was among them.
Jack rolled his eyes. ‘The last thing we need up here is an obstetrician,’ he drawled. ‘Who’s delivering all those babies while you’re wasting your time on the mountain?’
Tom adjusted the pack on his back. ‘They’re all queuing up, waiting for me to come back.’
‘Well, you took so long you needn’t have bothered coming.’ Jack stood up, tall and broad-shouldered. ‘You’ve missed all the action. Blondie and I have sorted it out as usual. Don’t know why we need such a big team really.’
‘If we weren’t here you wouldn’t have anyone to boss around,’ Tom said dryly, working with the rest of the team to get a stretcher ready. ‘We rang the RAF to see if there was any chance of an airlift but the weather is closing in so it looks like we’re going to have to carry them down.’
Jack walked over and conferred with Sean, the other A and E consultant and the MRT leader, and discussed the best way to get the two women off the mountain while Bryony kept an eye on Pamela. Fortunately the casualty bag had zip access, which meant she was able to check on her patient without exposing her to the freezing air.
Finally Pamela was safely strapped onto a stretcher. Her sister had revived sufficiently to be able to walk down the mountain with some assistance from two bulky MRT members who roped her between them.
Bryony reattached her crampons and picked up her ice axe. The snow was thick now and she knew that one false step could have her sliding halfway down the mountain.
The snow was falling so thickly she could barely see and she scrubbed her face with her hand to clear her vision.
‘Rope up, Blondie,’ Jack’s voice said, and as she opened her mouth to answer, the ground beneath her suddenly shifted and she was falling.
She didn’t even have time to cry out, sliding fast down the slope towards the edge of the cliff t
hat Jack had described so graphically.
Immediately she braced the axe shaft across her body, digging the pick into the snow slope and raising her feet so that they didn’t catch in the snow. She jerked to a halt and hung there for a moment, suspended, her heart hammering against her chest, her hands tightly locked on her ice axe, which was the only thing holding her on the slope.
She heard Jack calling her name and heard something in his tone that she hadn’t heard before. Panic.
She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She didn’t want Jack to panic. Jack never panicked. Ever. Jack panicking was a bad sign. Realising just how close she was to the edge of the cliff, she kept a tight hold on her ice axe and gingerly moved her feet, trying to get some traction with her crampons.
‘Hang on, Bry,’ Tom called cheerfully. ‘Jack’s just coming to get you. You won’t live this one down in a hurry.’
But despite his light-hearted tone, Bryony heard the anxiety in his voice. And it was hardly surprising, she thought ruefully, risking another glance below her. Another couple of metres and she would have vanished over the edge of a sheer cliff.
And it could still happen.
‘Hang on, Blondie,’ Jack called, and she glanced up to see him climbing down towards her, a rope attached to his middle.