Twenty years later
Kirsty Fox strode through the Mediflight West hangar. Four years on at the Port Augusta headquarters, she still wasn’t over the thrill.
As far as adventures went, this one was a cracker. She’d even broken her never-hang-around-for-long rule for this job.
‘Where’s my clipboard?’ she said.
John, retired paramedic, head sausage-turner for the monthly barbecue, and logistics legend of the two aircraft and ten personnel who connected patients from remote South Australia to the hospitals in the city, stood up from behind the clutter on his desk.
‘Emergency pick-up of Mrs Ullrich,’ he said. ‘She’s gone into labour a month sooner than she’d planned, and her husband’s having kittens by the sound of him.’
Kirsty lifted her eyes from the flight plan long enough to shoot John a grin. ‘Isn’t that always the way? You know I’m supposed to be off duty on Fridays, right?’
‘Missing out on a hot date, love?’
‘I wish. No—I’m supposed to be in Adelaide. Mum’s been calling me nonstop and wants me to go see her. She’s probably behind on her rent again and needs me to negotiate.’ Or pay it.
Terri had been three years off the pokies, but her ability to stick at a job was a work in progress…
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