There was a crowd of about twenty onlookers around them now, but it wasn’t the sort of crowd you saw in city accidents, Rachel thought. There was horror on everyone’s faces. They all knew Kim. They were all desperate to help.

Rachel was the only woman who’d stripped to her bra but she knew without asking that each and every one of these women would do the same and more if they needed to. Their care and concern were palpable.

Then Kim’s parents were there, running toward their daughter across the showgrounds. Their fear reached the group on the ground before they did, but Kim had drifted into unconsciousness. The combination of shock, blood loss and painkillers had sent her under. Good, Rachel thought as her mother disintegrated into tears, sobbing onto her chest. The horror on her parents’ faces would only have made things worse.

Enough. There was nothing more she could do now. One of the paramedics had taken her position, keeping pressure on the wound. She rose. A buxom woman in floral Crimplene put her arm around her and held. Rachel wasn’t complaining. She was grateful for the support.

‘Who are you?’ Hugo asked. He was adjusting a bag of plasma, the ambulance officers were helping. Rachel wasn’t needed.

‘Rachel. Rachel Harper.’

‘You’re a doctor?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re not a vascular surgeon, I suppose?’

‘I wish.’ She knew exactly what he was thinking. A vascular surgeon was what they needed, urgently. The chances of saving Kim’s leg were incredibly slim. ‘But Michael has the skills. And he’s still in range.’

He’d be upset at being called back but he had no choice.

‘OK.’ He stared up at her for a moment longer, his intelligent eyes assessing. Each knew what the other was thinking. They couldn’t voice it here-not in front of Kim’s parents-but if the femoral artery wasn’t repaired fast, Kim would lose the leg if not her life.

They needed the helicopter. They needed Michael. Kim’s future depended on it.