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24
Jack
I straightened my arms, found my spot and did another twenty compressions, humming ‘Stayin’ Alive’ by the Bee Gees under my breath because that was what the resident doctor on Holby had told me would be a nice touch for the scene I’d played. He said it was what people were taught on first-aid courses. If I’d known I’d need to do it for real a couple of years later, I’d have paid more fucking attention to the detail. Was it twenty or thirty compressions? Two breaths, or three?
A siren blasted in the distance; surely that was for us. The Royal Free was literally a minute’s drive away.
‘Keep going,’ said Rebecca quietly. ‘You’re doing brilliantly.’
She slid her top under Clive’s head, stroking his forehead gently.
‘You’re in good hands with Jack here, Clive,’ she said, glancing at me. ‘We’ve got an ambulance on its way for you and everything. We’re lucky to have Jack as our neighbour, aren’t we?’
Rebecca looked very pale and was sweating now herself. I hoped she wasn’t about to faint or something, because there’s no way I’d be able to sort her out as well.
I did two more breaths, watching to see whether Clive’s chest rose and fell. It did. Surely that was a good sign. If I could just keep oxygen pumping around his body, he might be in with a chance once the paramedics took over.
The sirens were getting louder. I saw a blue light flashing through the trees and then, seconds later, the ambulance pulled into the driveway. Two paramedics got out and ran over. One had a defibrillator and told us to stand back. A couple of the other neighbours had come outside by this point and were standing around gawping. The woman from the ground floor was in her dressing gown and was sobbing loudly into a tissue and the young guy who I presume had knocked Clive over was sitting on the kerb with his head between his knees. The paramedics checked Clive’s pulse, listened for any signs of breathing and then put the pads on his chest.
Rebecca bent over, as though she was trying to catch her breath. Only hesitating for a second, I reached out and rubbed her lower back.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked, which was a ridiculous question. Of course she wasn’t OK. I wasn’t sure I was, either.
The first round of defib didn’t work. I said a silent prayer, asking for Clive to make it, although given I never prayed and hadn’t been to church since I was about eight, I hardly thought God was going to be listening now.
The paramedics fiddled with the machine and then did another round. This time, I saw Clive’s lips move the tiniest bit, a flicker of his eyelids. I clamped my hand over my mouth. This had to mean that there were at least some signs of life, didn’t it? The paramedics did some more checks and then very carefully began to ease him onto a stretcher. One of them mentioned a broken hip. Fuck, poor Clive.
I picked up Rebecca’s top and put it around her shoulders because I could see her shaking.
One of the paramedics turned to face us. ‘Do either of you know this gentleman?’
‘He’s our neighbour,’ I said.
‘You won’t be able to come in the ambulance with him, then. But you can meet us down at the hospital if you like.’
I looked at Rebecca, who looked terrified and was now a very greyish green, although it might have been the light.
‘I’ll follow you down,’ I offered. It was the least I could do. If Clive was going to die, there was no way I was going to let him be alone when he did, not that I wanted to think about that at this stage.
‘Are you sure you’re OK to go?’ said Rebecca, her voice all croaky.
‘Course,’ I replied, not that I was feeling as confident as I sounded. I’d never had to deal with anything like this before and it had been awful seeing Clive lying there, completely helpless. I was surprised that I’d managed to remember a thing about the CPR.
She slipped her arms into her top.
I watched the paramedics shut the ambulance door, feeling my throat swell as I caught a glimpse of Clive being rigged up to various wires and a tube being put down his throat to help him breathe.
Please let him live, I thought to myself. He was such a nice man, he didn’t deserve this.
Tentatively, I put my arm around Rebecca. I could feel her shaking and pulled her closer to me, hoping the warmth of my body might help. She’d been for a run and had hardly any clothes on, which probably wasn’t helping.
The engine started up and we watched as they took a left out of the driveway, roaring down East Heath Road towards the hospital.
‘I’ll go and lock up and then I’ll head down there,’ I said. ‘Do you want to come with me?’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can. I’ve … um, I’ve got to get to work.’
I dropped my arm, gently. She looked in no fit state to go to work, but I didn’t like to say. She probably just needed a hot drink or something – wasn’t that good for shock?
‘There’s probably no point both of us being there, anyway,’ I said, not wanting her to feel bad.
She fumbled around in her pocket for her keys. I found mine instead, opening the door for her. I had a quick glance over my shoulder to check that the bloke with the BMW was all right; he must be shocked, too, and I thought I’d heard the paramedics say the police were on their way. The woman in the dressing gown was sitting with him now, so that was something. I followed Rebecca inside and we stumbled silently up the stairs, my head fried by everything that had gone on. When we got to our landing, she stood there on the doorstep for what felt like ages, as though she couldn’t think properly either.
‘Let me know how he is, won’t you?’ she said over her shoulder.
Before I’d had a chance to reply, she’d opened the door and disappeared inside.
