The rest of the flight was a bit of a blur. Dawson barely even noticed the landing.

Dad was taken directly to an ambulance waiting on the tarmac and whisked away while Dawson was escorted by airport staff to Mum.

He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t say a thing, just let her hold him then lead him out to her car. They drove to the hospital in silence.

At reception they were told that Dad had gone straight into surgery. They were then guided to a waiting room.

There, they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Dawson ate potato chips and chocolate bars from the vending machines. Mum, normally one for healthy eating and limited snacks, didn’t object. She let him have whatever he wanted. In the meantime, she drank one cup of instant coffee after another – without complaining. Again, unusual behaviour given that she was a self-confessed ‘coffee snob’ who only drank proper ones made with an espresso machine.

Between sips of coffee, Mum looked up acute compartment syndrome on her iPad. Rather than calming either of them down, the information just made them more worried. The problem was treated surgically with a procedure called a ‘fasciotomy’, to relieve the build-up of pressure and allow normal blood flow to the muscles and nerves. If not performed in time it could lead to necrosis – which meant the death of tissue and cells – and could result in amputation.

Dawson kept imagining Dad with only one leg.

He ate more chocolate and Mum drank more coffee.

Gwen handed Sam a piece of paper with contact details for her and her husband. ‘You give that to your mum,’ she said. ‘And tell her to get in touch when everything settles down. Let us know how your dad is.’

‘Sure,’ said Sam, pocketing the note.

‘And you be good for your sister.’ Crouching down, Gwen gave Em a hug.

‘Ahuh,’ said Em through a mouthful of muesli bar.

‘Thanks for all your help.’ Sam looked from Gwen to Burt. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, but she quickly got it under control. She cleared her throat noisily. ‘Phoning and driving and changing the tyre and …’ She paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. ‘Everything.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Burt. ‘Glad to have been able to.’ He stepped forward and awkwardly shook hands with the girls.

Em looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘I like you,’ she said earnestly.

‘Well …’ he said, momentarily lost for words. ‘I … I like you too. Both of you.’

‘Time to go,’ said a voice from behind them.

The two sisters turned and followed the pilot to the little twin engine Cessna.

‘Cool!’ said Em when she saw the plane.

When Aunt Marg showed up with Sam and Em at the hospital, hugs and tears were exchanged. They were still in the midst of hugging when the surgeon came out to see them.

Dad was going to be okay. The fasciotomy was a success. He wasn’t completely out of the woods yet – his bones would need time to heal, and there would be a follow-up operation – but his leg was saved.

Even more hugs and tears were exchanged.

Dad’s leg was wrapped in bandages and enclosed in a metal cage. And it was raised up with wires, kind of like a puppet.

Dad looked tired. But he smiled from the hospital bed when they all came in.

‘My heroes,’ he said, grinning at Dawson, Sam and Em. ‘Thanks.’

Em hugged his arm.

‘Glad you’re okay,’ said Sam, her eyes glistening. ‘Real glad.’

Dawson stood awkwardly to the side, not saying anything as everyone fussed over Dad. Now that the worst had passed, he couldn’t overcome the feeling of how close disaster had been.

‘So, what’s happened to the car?’ asked Dad.

‘That old guy drove it to Leigh Creek,’ said Mum.

‘Burt,’ said Sam. ‘His name’s Burt. And he’s not that old.’ She fumbled around in her pocket and pulled out the note Gwen had given her. ‘Gwen said you should let them know how Dad is.’

‘The tyre exploded,’ announced Em.

‘What?’ Dad’s eyes widened.

‘It didn’t explode,’ said Sam. ‘It was just a flat. Burt changed it. And got us to the airport.’

‘The keys are with the manager of the Leigh Creek Aerodrome,’ said Mum. ‘I’ll arrange for someone to collect it and drive it back home.’

Suddenly Aunt Marg bustled in with a huge bunch of flowers in one hand and a vase in the other. ‘Glad you’re okay, brother dear,’ she said, glancing at Dad. ‘Now, can I get some help with this?’

Sam and Em assisted Aunt Marg as she arranged the flowers on the table in the corner of the room.

Dad looked at Dawson, who still stood off to the side. ‘I’m okay, son,’ he said. ‘You did well, Dawson. Real well.’

‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ said Dawson, trying hard to hold back the tears. ‘We should have listened to you. We shouldn’t have been running around in the building. If we had –’

‘Stop it!’ Dad cut him off. ‘It was no one’s fault. Accidents happen, you know.’

‘But if we hadn’t been –’

‘And if I hadn’t gone into the building,’ interrupted Dad, ‘and if Mum had come along, and if I hadn’t taken us to Farina. And if … and if …’ He patted the bed and Dawson sat down on the edge of it.

‘If, if, if,’ continued Dad. ‘You can’t dwell on the ifs. What matters is that I’m okay – that we’re all okay. What matters is that you and Sam and Emmie handled yourselves extraordinarily well. And if you really do want some ifs to think about – If you hadn’t thought and acted quickly and responsibly, things may have been very different; If the RFDS wasn’t there to help, I may not have made it. Those are the ifs that matter.’

Dawson hugged Dad.

When he finally let go, Sam rushed forward, tears in her eyes, and joined in.

‘Thanks,’ she said in a hoarse whisper.

‘Thanks,’ said Dawson, nodding. ‘We should thank them, the flying doctors.’

‘And nurses,’ Em piped up.

‘And nurses,’ agreed Dawson.

‘Yeah,’ said Dad. ‘I think we should.’

Mum walked around to the other side of the bed and kissed her husband. ‘Can’t leave you alone for a few days without something happening, can I?’

Dad took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘We’ll make sure to take you with us next time.’

‘Ha!’ said Mum. ‘No more holidays for a while, I think.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Dad was grinning. ‘I’m a quick healer.’