They loaded Ranulph into the back of the pick-up he and Cass had arrived in, and Cass got into the driver’s seat.
A welcoming party had assembled at the house and could be seen long before they reached their destination. Delphine was at the front of the group there to unload him. ‘You rescued my little cousin,’ she said, referring to one of the boys in the landslip, taking hold of part of the stretcher and waving people away.Ranulph was a king to her now and would receive proper respect and attention.
While Delphine was making Ranulph comfortable on the sofa Cass wondered if Delphine would turn out to have first aid skills as well as the many others she possessed.
‘It needs stitches,’ Cass said to her, gesturing towards the wound on Ranulph. ‘Have you done that, ever?’ She knew it was a vain hope but she wanted the best person to sew up Ranulph.
‘Sewn up a person?’ Delphine looked at her in horror. ‘My mother says I can hardly sew a patch on a pair of trousers.’
‘OK!’ said Cass, determinedly upbeat, on the surface at least. ‘I’ll do it. But we must get the wound clean first.’
Delphine may not have been able to sew but she produced cooled boiled water remarkably quickly as well as clean bed linen for Cass to use as cloths.
‘This may hurt a lot,’ she said to Ranulph. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘That’s OK. You do what you need to do. I’ll just have to be a brave little soldier.’
They exchanged the briefest of smiles; his attempt at humour did give Cass courage.
‘I’m going to wash my hands,’ said Cass. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
As she scrubbed and scrubbed she knew she mustn’t delay. Only when she was convinced that her hands were as clean as they could be did she go back to Ranulph.
When she rejoined the others she found that Delphine had extracted everything they might need from the first aid kit and laid it out on a side table.
‘There’s a needle and thread for the stitches,’ she murmured to Cass. ‘But I don’t see any local anaesthetic.’
‘You’d better be quick then, Cass,’ said Ranulph, who’d obviously heard Delphine perfectly well. ‘Or it will really hurt.’
‘I’ll get the rum,’ said Delphine.
Cass put on the gloves that Delphine had laid out. When she had cleaned the wound as well as she could, she picked up the needle. ‘Maybe think about something else for a while,’ she said.
‘It’s OK,’ said Ranulph. ‘I’ve been stitched up before and the local anaesthetic hurt worse than the stitches. And yes, I know that rum isn’t a good idea.’
Cass gave him the briefest smile and then set to work.
It seemed to take hours. Cass was sweating, occasionally wiping her forehead with her arm. She knew when she was hurting Ranulph because of the way he caught his breath and cleared his throat. At last, she felt she could stop stitching.
‘I think that’s done,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Ranulph softly.
Just for a moment it was as if they were alone. The expression in his eyes said so much more than his simple words had. And Cass’s silent reply was relief although she knew she really wanted to burst into tears.
‘I’m not sure this will be OK permanently,’ she said briskly, looking at the line of stitches. ‘It might get infected. I might not have cleaned the wound sufficiently. I think you should go to hospital as soon as possible. But I realise that probably won’t be very soon.’
‘Maybe we should give you some antibiotics?’ suggested Bastian, who had appeared while Cass was focusing entirely on Ranulph’s leg. ‘But it looks as if you’ve done a very good job, Cass.’
Cass felt extremely tired. She got up, stiff from having been in the same position for so long. ‘Could somebody—’
Delphine caught her as she swayed. ‘You go and get cleaned up, honey. I’ll take care of Ranulph now.’
Cass was suddenly desperate for the loo and while she was there, she washed her face. Then she went on to the veranda, sat on the step and looked out to sea. It was so calm – very hard to imagine that only a week earlier things had been so different. The sea looked benign and gentle as if it could never have had anything to do with a hurricane.
But although the view was serene Cass was shaking. It was shock; she’d had to do something difficult and important that she’d never done before. Friendly, the dog, came and sat next to her. Gratefully, Cass put her arms around him. He was warm and furry and utterly non-judgemental.
Not that anyone was judging Cass for her efforts, she knew that. But she was judging herself. Supposingshe’d done something wrong that could make Ranulph ill? Supposing she hadn’t cleaned the wound sufficiently? Suppose it went septic?
