33

It was some time before my ears caught the sound of an approaching vehicle. I scrambled to my feet and lifted up the front of my singlet to hurriedly wipe my face. I’m not sure why I bothered. The tears would have helped clean some of the cow shit away – the tears and the snot. I limped around to the roadside and looked towards the dust-shrouded vehicle. I didn’t need to fake a damsel-in-distress look; it was pretty bloody obvious.

A ute pulled up alongside mine and a familiar face grinned at me.

‘Sam. In a bit of trouble there?’ Cole said.

I gave a big sniff, then realised how charming that must have sounded. ‘Flat tyre.’ I tried to hide the quiver in my voice by resorting to two-word sentences. ‘Other side.’ I turned and indicated the back of Lockie’s ute.

I heard a sharp intake of breath.

‘Shit, Sam, you’re bleeding. Stay there.’

Like I was going anywhere. I turned to tell him I’d just knocked my shin, but Cole had already moved forward to park his ute in front of mine. Before I knew it, he had jumped out and was striding purposefully towards me, holding a cloth.

‘Here, let me help,’ he said.

I was just about to protest when he literally picked me up and leaned me across the bonnet.

‘What are you doing?’ I said, rather indignant. I tried to turn and look, but had my head forcibly directed to the front.

‘Keep still. You’ve got blood pissing out the back of your head. What happened?’

I instinctively reached up to touch it, but Cole slapped my hand away. I felt his fingers part my hair, and winced at the jolt of pain that shot through my scalp. Now he mentioned it, the back of my head was feeling a bit sticky. It hadn’t occurred to me I could have cut myself; I just thought it was more cow shit.

‘Jesus, that’s a good split you’ve got there. Might need a few stitches in it, not to mention a lot of disinfectant. You’re a mess. What the hell have you been doing?’

I was surprised at the vehemence in his voice.

‘What does it look like I’ve been doing? Trying to change the frigging tyre. I collected my head on the towbar, trying to get the stupid spare wheel out. I didn’t do it for bloody fun.’

Once again I felt the need to justify myself to him.

‘Why didn’t you ring for help?’ he asked. His voice had dropped to a more conversational level.

A huge sigh escaped me. ‘I tried, but the cellphone had no reception.’

‘You should have walked back to the farm, then. I’d have come out and changed it for you.’

He stepped back to give me room to stand up straight again. I turned around to face him, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes. ‘I would have, but my leg was a bit sore,’ I said, lifting up my now rather gory-looking shin to show him.

‘Christ. Get in my ute, we’ll get you down to the doctor’s.’

He grabbed me by the arm and started to drag me towards his vehicle. I tried to prise his fingers off as I remembered the precious cargo on the front seat.

‘Hang on, I’ve just got to get something out.’ I had no qualms about abandoning Lockie’s hunk of crap to the wilds, but I wasn’t about to leave Gaby’s computer in it.

Cole let go and I hobbled back to the cab, grabbed the laptop, my bag and shirt. Then I limped my way back to Cole’s ute and climbed up into the seat next to him. He must have found some water to dampen the cloth, because he reached across and proceeded to wipe at my face.

‘Ouch, give that here, I can do that.’ I grabbed the cloth from him and swung the rear-vision mirror around to get a look at myself. It wasn’t pretty. The tears had tracked stripes down the smeared shit, and the gravel had bitten into my skin, leaving globs of blood on my cheeks and forehead. Still, after a bit of work with the cloth, I was vaguely fit to be seen in public. Pity I smelled like a sewer.

‘What about Lockie’s ute?’ I asked as we trundled off towards town.

‘It’ll be alright there for a while. Nobody’s going to steal it with a flat tyre. I’ll come back later and fix it, then drop it back to you.’

I stared out at the belts of toetoe that rushed past the window. It shocked me to feel so small and vulnerable. I had always been able to handle any situation I’d got myself into – if I couldn’t physically deal with it, I could talk my way out. Ms Invincible. It had been a rude awakening to feel so utterly useless. Even ruder to admit I needed the help of anyone, let alone a male. My traitorous eyes started to leak again.

As if reading my thoughts, Cole looked over at me and stated the obvious. ‘You really should be more careful, Sam.’

An hour or so later, I was sporting three stitches in my head, courtesy of Dr Arnold. Of course, he had taken the opportunity to give me a lecture on looking after myself and told me in no uncertain terms that I did not need to act like a superhero. Sounded like a baritone version of my mother. I didn’t have much choice but to take his words on board at the time – he was the one wielding the needle.

The medical-centre staff were up on my brush with TV fame. Francine had seen the news, so naturally, they had all been filled in on the gory details. Should have known my luck would run out on that front soon, but at least they seemed to be of the ‘I-don’t-believe-a-word-of-it’ school of thought.

If there was one positive from the visit, it afforded me the opportunity to find out what had happened with Dr Walden. It had occurred to me that I might not be received enthusiastically after I’d sprung one of the surgery’s doctors, but in fact, the welcome mat was warmly, if cautiously, extended. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who could see through Walden’s apparent charms. The staff had been mortified to find that blackmail had gone on under their very noses. I think they all felt some level of guilt at having been blind to it. Ranjit, in particular, was most apologetic to me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the one who needed to hear it and Gaby was in no position to accept apologies.

While playing tailor with my scalp, Ranjit brought me up to speed on the doctor’s activities. Officially, Dr Walden was on extended leave. Unofficially, he’d had his butt booted out the door and the Medical Council had been advised of his actions. Dr Walden had recently become a partner in the practice, so extracting him was going to be a bit messy. He’d already threatened to sue them for wrongful dismissal and, while he was at it, was going to do me for defamation, apparently. It was pretty clear we hadn’t heard the last of that man.

Cole had done the chivalrous thing and waited while I was being attended to, then insisted on dropping me off at home. Not quite a knight on a white charger; more of a bloke in a tan ute.

‘You sure you’ll be OK?’ he asked.

‘I’ll be fine. Maggie’s home – she’s good at playing Mum.’

He gave me that full-beam look, and I wriggled under his gaze.

‘Thanks for coming to my rescue. I did make a bit of a mess of things. I don’t know how I can repay you.’

‘You could come out and buy me a beer later tonight,’ he said, sounding casual.

‘Oh, OK. Sure…’ I was taken off guard. ‘I won’t be able to drink; the doc said I probably have concussion. But I can come out for a little while.’ As I looked at him, I realised he had a bit of a glow rising up his cheeks. He didn’t feel so casual, after all. It was quite cute on a grown man.

‘I’ll pick you up after dinner,’ he said. ‘Should have Lockie’s ute sorted by then.’

I eased myself down out of the front seat and grabbed my things.

‘I promise I’ll have showered by then,’ I said with a grin.

‘Please.’