And outside… Somewhere in this island was her six-year-old son.

‘Three helicopters so far.’

Lily could feel a tiny lessening of terror in the theatre staff at the news. Outside help?

‘These men are cowards,’ Pieter said into the stillness. ‘They’ve left this place alone because they know we have guns here. They’ll shoot us but they won’t risk being shot themselves. They won’t have counted on outside help so soon. I’m guessing they hoped to bring more military supplies-maybe more men-onto the island before that.’

‘If they’re not already here…’

‘If they had full military capability, they’d have shot down the helicopters,’ Pieter said soundly and Lily thought, Benjy, Benjy, Benjy.

‘Many of the islanders are hiding,’ Pieter added, glancing at her. ‘Long may they stay hidden.’

Benjy.

‘Is there any news from the council compound?’ a nurse asked, and Lily clamped off a blood vessel and waited for the site to be swabbed. She felt sick.

‘We don’t know what’s happened there,’ Pieter said. ‘All we know is that those who ran from the building were shot.’

‘Were those inside shot, too?’

‘Who would know?’ Pieter said heavily. ‘There’s no access. Anyone who goes near the place is met with gunfire.’ He handed over the plasma, glanced at Lily to see if she was OK-was anyone OK just now?-and turned away.

‘There are three more urgent cases,’ he told Lily dully. ‘Hand over here as soon as you can.’

She worked all that night and into the next morning, blocking out everything but medical imperatives. Or she almost blocked out everything. There was so much need. They needed a dozen doctors and there was only her. She worked like an automaton, her silent plea a background throbbing that could never stop.

Benjy, Benjy, Benjy.

‘You need to sleep,’ Pieter told her at four in the morning, and she shook her head.