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I shrugged. It had actually made me see Jack in a whole new light. So much for me being the organised, efficient one – he’d really stepped up when I could barely even dial 999. If Clive did survive, it would all be down to him.
‘Let me go and make you a drink,’ offered Freya, shooting out of her seat. ‘You look very pale, Becs.’
I nodded gratefully, resting my head in my hands.
When I got home that evening, the first thing I did was knock on Jack’s door.
‘Oh, hey,’ he said, answering the door with a tea towel in his hand.
‘I wanted to see if there was any news on Clive,’ I said, putting my bag down on Jack’s doormat. ‘Did he pull through?’
‘Yeah, I was going to knock round later. He’s out of the coronary care unit,’ explained Jack. ‘And they’ve operated on his hip. They seem to think he’ll make a good recovery. It’ll take time of course, but it looks like he’s going to be OK.’
‘Oh thank god,’ I said, feeling a rush of emotion. I swallowed hard, willing myself not to start balling on his doorstep. ‘That’s amazing news.’
Jack looked down at his feet and then back up at me again.
‘Were you all right this morning?’ he asked.
‘Um, yeah, course. It was a shock finding him lying there, that was all. I’d only spoken to him about thirty seconds before. He was off for a walk and I was coming back from a run.’
Jack nodded, but I could tell he thought there was more to it.
‘Anyway, I should be asking you the same thing,’ I said. ‘How are you feeling about saving someone’s life?’
He laughed. ‘I think the paramedics and the doctors did that.’
I looked at him dubiously. ‘You do know that it would have been too late by the time they got there, right?’
Jack shifted from one foot to the other. ‘Maybe.’
I couldn’t believe how much Jack was squirming. ‘Is it difficult for you to take a compliment or something?’ I asked him.
‘I mean, not usually,’ he replied.
‘So what, then?’
He flicked his tea towel onto his shoulder. ‘I don’t know. I feel like anyone would have done the same thing. If I hadn’t been there, somebody else would have cobbled together some CPR. It’s what you do in those situations, isn’t it?’
‘Well I couldn’t have done it,’ I said.
‘You could.’
I shook my head. ‘No. My mind went completely blank. I was no use whatsoever.’
He pushed his hair back off his face with the heel of his hand. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter who did what, the main thing is he’s going to make it. I was going to go and visit him tomorrow, once he’s settled onto the rehabilitation ward.’
I knew what was coming next and I tried to prepare myself, my mind whirring with possible excuses.
‘You could come with me if you want?’ said Jack.
I closed my eyes for a second or two, calming myself. It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. Why wouldn’t I want to go and visit Clive? He’d very nearly died. Of course I should want to go and see him.
‘Let me think about it,’ I replied, busying myself picking up my bag and walking backwards towards the safety of my flat. ‘I’m pretty full on at work at the moment, but I’ll definitely try to make it. What time were you thinking?’
‘Six-ish, probably …’ he said in a strange voice, as though he was trying to work out what the hell was wrong with me. ‘It’s just that he’s got no family, has he? The hospital were saying they have no next of kin on record. So if we don’t go, he’ll be all on his own.’
I turned to open my door, practically falling into the hallway in my eagerness to get inside.
‘I’ll let you know,’ I said breezily, as though I wasn’t behaving strangely at all. ‘But I will definitely try to make it.’
He was still standing in the doorway, looking at me with his head cocked to the side.
I shut the door, leaning against the wall, my head resting against Catherine Deneuve. And then I let the tears come. I let them soak my cheeks and when I felt a sob building up in my throat, I went into the bathroom and shut the door. There was no way Jack could hear me from there.
