‘Why couldn’t I go?’

‘No room on the helicopter,’ Grady told her bluntly.

Lucy hesitated. ‘What about Hamish?’

‘We’re still looking for Hamish.’

Lucy hesitated. Her face closed in what almost seemed teenage rebellion. ‘I don’t want to stay on this island any more,’ she whispered. The teenager’s eyes were determinedly defiant, but there was more than a hint of moisture behind them now. It was as much as Morag could do not to gather her in for a hug-but she knew instinctively that it wouldn’t help. It was a fine line-when a kid turned into an adolescent and when a hug from an adult became patronising and claustrophobic.

It was only for a few short years that teenagers became untouchable and it was dreadful that this had happened right in the midst of it. But if it got worse…

Grady flicked a questioning look at Morag, colleague asking permission, and he got an imperceptible nod in return. It was fine by Morag. This was no time for being precious about patient boundaries. She wanted all the help she could get.

‘If Dr Morag is worried about your arm, maybe we could look at it together,’ Grady suggested.

‘My arm’s OK.’

‘There’s no medals for heroes in this game,’ Grady said gently. ‘Lucy, I’ve been treating grown men this morning with lesser injuries than you, and some of them have been crying. You don’t need to pretend, and no one will tell anyone if you have a really good howl. Now…let us look at your arm.’

Lucy stared at Grady for a long moment. Grady gazed calmly back.

And Lucy cracked first.

‘OK,’ she conceded.

‘Sensible decision,’ Grady told her, without a flicker of relief that the girl had agreed.

Then, as Morag watched from the sidelines, he sat on the bed and carefully lifted Lucy’s arm.

‘Can you move your fingers?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Try.’

He got a belligerent look, but he met Lucy’s gaze calmly and dispassionately. He was a fine doctor, Morag thought. He had so many skills. But, then, she’d known that about him all along.

‘Who’s looking for Hamish?’ she whispered, and Grady met that with calmness as well.

‘We have every fit islander, plus a team of almost fifty army personnel, combing the island.’

‘He was swept away with the wave?’

‘I guess he must have been,’ Grady told her, feeling each finger and watching her face. ‘The wave hit you and your parents with such force-’

‘But Hamish wasn’t with us.’

Morag stilled. The search for the small boy-for Robbie’s best mate-was centring around the fact that he’d been swept out from his parents’ front yard. His parents had been too dazed to do any more than ask for news of their son, and Lucy hadn’t been questioned. The searchers were working in the assumption that he’d been with his parents when the wave had struck.

Dangerous assumption. She saw Grady focus, and his hand came out to take the girl’s good one.

‘Lucy, we’ve been searching for Hamish around your house. Are you saying he could be somewhere else on the island?’

‘He went over to Morag’s.’

‘To the lighthouse?’ Morag’s heart sank. The promontory that held the lighthouse had been swept clean by the force of the wave. If Hamish had been out there… ‘Did he come over to see Robbie?’

‘Yeah. Mum said he should do his school project but Dad said he it was too good a day to keep a kid inside.’ Her face crumpled and she gave a despairing whimper. ‘It’s not fair. He shouldn’t have gone. Where is he? I want my mum.’

‘I tell you what we’ll do,’ Grady told her, as, like it or not, Morag moved to hug the girl close. Lucy was so distressed that she suddenly almost seemed to welcome it, her body curving into Morag’s like she belonged there. Only for a moment. Only for a second. Then she regrouped and pulled away. But somehow…her hand stayed just within contact with Morag’s.

‘We’ll X-ray your arm. If, as I think, you’ve fractured your forearm, we’ll put it into plaster so it doesn’t move and it stops hurting,’ Grady told her. ‘And then we’ll organise a helicopter flight for you to the mainland so you can be with your dad while you wait for your mother to get better.’

‘But Hamish…’

‘We’re doing all we can, Lucy.’

‘Can I ask your Grandma to come in?’ Morag asked, and the girl’s face closed again.

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t want to see her again. Grandma started crying. Grandma never cries. I don’t know what to tell her. Hamish…’

‘Can you remember,’ Morag said carefully, trying to make it sound as if it was important but not too important, ‘how long it was between Hamish leaving home and the wave hitting?’

‘He left home just after lunch and we have lunch at one,’ Lucy said fretfully. ‘I remember ’cos Dad said he couldn’t go until we’d done the washing-up.’

‘We left the lighthouse just before two,’ Morag told Grady. ‘He must have just missed us.’

‘Mum said if Robbie wasn’t home he had to come straight back,’ Lucy told them. ‘He had loads of homework to do. It was Dad’s idea to let him go but I think Mum was a bit pissed off.’

‘Where else would Hamish have gone?’ Grady asked her. ‘If Robbie wasn’t home, were there any other friends he’d contact?’

‘I don’t know.’ The teenager seemed to realise Morag was still in contact with her hand, and she pulled back some more, whimpering a little as her arm jarred. She hauled up her bed-covers as if they could protect her from impending pain. ‘I don’t know.’

‘We’ll look,’ Morag promised, but she couldn’t promise that they’d find him.

They knew the odds.

The odds were dreadful.


Lucy’s arm had a simple greenstick fracture. Morag assisted while Grady carefully prepped the arm, wrapped it and then put a backslab on the forearm. There was considerable swelling around the wrist. Given that it had happened over twelve hours ago, it was probably as swollen as it was going to be. It’d have to be checked in a few days.

In a few days Lucy would be in Sydney, Morag thought. Hopefully with her recovering mother and father.

And her brother?

The impending tragedy stayed with them while they worked. Lucy was white-faced and silent, and they knew her silence wasn’t caused by her own pain. She was terrified for her parents and for her brother-and she had every right to be.

‘I’ll contact Sydney,’ Grady said, grim-faced, as they left Lucy with a nurse and came out again into the little reception area. ‘Maybe the father might know where Hamish might be?’

‘I’ll contact him,’ Morag told him. ‘Peter’s my friend.’ She grimaced. ‘And Christine is Robbie’s aunt. Christine’s brother was Beth’s husband-Robbie’s father. He drowned when Robbie was tiny, so they know already what tragedy is.’

That hurt. ‘Oh, hell…’

‘It is,’ she said bleakly. ‘Hamish is Robbie’s cousin and they’ve been extraordinarily close all their lives. If I hadn’t come back when I did, Robbie would be part of their family.’

‘They would have taken him in?’

‘Of course.’

He frowned. ‘So why did you come back?’

Why had she come back? Did he understand nothing?

‘That’s a great question,’ she snapped. ‘Very empathetic. Look around you at this community and use your head. Is Jaqui back from the Koori settlement?’

‘She’s been back for a while.’

Morag stilled. ‘So they didn’t let her help.’

‘I gather not. They said there were no problems.’

‘Oh, sure. No problems? They’d hide them.’

‘Why would they hide them?’

‘They just would.’ She raked her hair in distress. ‘I should have gone.’ None of the Koori people would admit to Jaqui that they needed help, she thought grimly. She’d been stupid to hope that they would.

‘If Jaqui can’t help, how can you?’ Grady asked.

‘They trust me.’

‘But-’

‘There’s no but,’ she snapped. ‘Of course they won’t let Jaqui near them. I should have been out there this morning. Or last night! It’s taken my family two generations to get their trust, and I have it. So I’m needed. Ask me again why I came home, Dr Reece.’

‘I never meant-’

‘I know you never meant,’ she said softly, almost under her breath. ‘You never meant anything.’


First she had to make the phone call to Peter-Hamish’s father-and it was dreadful. For this little family, the drowning of Beth’s husband-Christine’s brother-followed by Beth’s death, was still real and dreadful, and Morag could hear the horror of past pain as well as terror for the future in the way Peter spoke to her. Peter was badly injured himself, just coming around from anaesthesia. His wife was still not out of danger. And…where was his son?

‘I was sure he’d be with Robbie,’ he told her. ‘I was sure. When they said he was still missing… I just said find Robbie and he’ll be there. They said Robbie was up with Hubert so I just assumed…’ His voice broke. ‘I can’t believe I left the island not knowing. I was just so worried about Christine. And I couldn’t find May.’

May was Peter’s mother. At least she could reassure him there. ‘I’ve seen May and she’s OK. She’s worried to death about Hamish, of course, but she was out of range when the wave hit and her house is undamaged.’ She was worried to death about Lucy as well, but Lucy still wouldn’t let her close and she wasn’t about to burden Peter with his mother’s distress. ‘She’ll be here for Hamish when we find him. And you were so badly hurt yourself,’ Morag said gently. ‘Peter, we’re doing all we can.’

‘He must have followed you up to Hubert’s.’ Peter’s voice cracked with desperation. ‘Maybe he’d guess that you’d be up there. Maybe…’

‘I’ll check everything,’ Morag told him. ‘Meanwhile, we’re sending Lucy over to be with you.’

‘But if Hamish needs her… If May needs her…’

‘I’ll be here for Hamish and for May, I promise.’

Distressed beyond measure, she put the phone down and turned to find Grady watching her. His face was etched deep with concern.