There was so much to this job. She would never be skilful enough to cope with the demands on her. Nikki had done obstetrics, basic surgery and anaesthetics but now-now she wanted a competent neurosurgeon right here and now. And because she hadn’t done the training this boy would die.

‘I can.’ The voice sounded behind her and Nikki spun around. Luke Marriott had quietly entered the theatre and was standing watching her.

He looked more disreputable than he had when she’d first seen him. The travel stains and the marks from catching prawns for two nights had been augmented by an hour trying to free the injured girl. His shirt was ripped and blood-stained. Even his fair hair was filthy, matted with dirt and blood. ‘Intracranial bleed?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve stabilised Lisa,’ he said briefly. ‘She’ll make it. She has two broken legs but they’ll wait for surgery in Cairns. She’s out to it now. If you prep, Dr Russell, I’ll throw myself through the shower, scrub and operate here.’ He turned to the junior nurse. ‘Show me where to go. Fast.’

‘But you can’t,’ Nikki said blankly.

‘Why not?’ The fair-haired man turned back to her and his eyes seemed suddenly older than Nikki had thought. Despite the dirt, he looked hard, professional and totally in control. ‘You’re wasting time, Dr Russell. Prep, please, and fast.’

‘But you’re not-’

‘I’m a surgeon,’ he snapped. ‘And I’ve done enough neurology to get me through. Now move!’

Nikki moved.

The burr hole was the work of an expert. Nikki could only watch and marvel, in the few fleeting moments she could spare from her concentration on the anaesthetic. Luke Marriott’s fingers were skilled and sure. It was Martin’s good fairy that had sent him here tonight.