STORYTELLER

When the first bomb went off we thought it was masonry falling from a building site. The second blast smashed windows in our lab and a few of my colleagues were cut by flying glass. I checked they were okay, and when I was satisfied the wounds were superficial, I took my medicine bag and went outside to investigate. It was carnage. An elderly man was lying by the side of the road with half his face missing.

Which side?

The right side I think.

I checked for a pulse on his neck, and started pumping his chest.

I was embarrassed when the papers – The Evening Standard and The Daily Mail – called me a heroine. ‘A brave and beautiful Aussie medic was first on the scene,’ added some jerk on The Sun. Yeah, right. Next they’ll want me to pose in a white bikini with a stethoscope dangling between my breasts.

At the time I was interviewed on a live broadcast for Sky News. I tried not to cry, and told the reporter what I saw. The man running away from the bombed bus.

An old school friend from Sydney saw me on satellite TV and emailed:

“Just like you, Katie – you’re always where it’s at – really proud of you, girl. I’ve mailed all our schoolmates to look out for you. Take care and write us all about it, it’s been too long. Suzie xxx.”

I remember going to watch INXS. I got Michael Huchence’s autograph and Suzie was really jealous.

“Did he say anything to you, Katie?” she asked like a melon.

“Yeah, he took my phone number and everything.”