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‘You filmed us? You filmed us and you didn’t tell me?’ She had burst straight through the door—not even knocking.
Gerry was standing with his back to her, the camera at his shoulder. He spun around and swayed. She stepped forward to continue her tirade but the words stuck somewhere in her throat. Gerry’s skin was glassy. She couldn’t even describe the colour. White, translucent, with even a touch of grey.
Even before she got a chance to get any more words out, Gerry’s eyes rolled and he pitched forward onto the bed.
‘Gerry!’ she yelled, grabbing at him and fumbling him round onto his back. She knelt on the bed and shook both his shoulders. But his eyes remained closed.
She tried to remember what she’d seen on TV. She felt around for a pulse, not finding anything at the neck but eventually finding a weak, thready pulse at his wrist. She squinted at his chest. Was he breathing? It seemed very slow.
She grabbed her phone and automatically pressed Rhuaridh’s number. He answered after the second ring. His voice was bright. ‘Kristie, are you—?’
‘Help. I need help. It’s Gerry. He’s collapsed at the bed and breakfast we’re staying in.’
She could hear the change in his tone immediately, almost like he’d flicked a switch to go into doctor mode. ‘Kristie, where is he?’
‘On the bed.’ She was leaning over Gerry, watching him intently.
‘Was there an accident?’
‘What? No. He just collapsed.’
‘Is he breathing?’
She paused, eyes fixed on Gerry’s chest. ‘I... I think so.’
‘Has he got a pulse?’
‘Yes, but it’s not strong...and it’s not regular.’
‘Kristie, I’m getting in the car. Pam has phoned for the ambulance. Which B and B are you at?’
She glanced over her shoulder to find the name on the folder on the bedside table, reciting the name to Rhuaridh.
‘I’ll be five minutes. Shout for help. Get someone to stay with you, and tell them to make sure the front door is open.’
It was the longest five minutes of her life. When Rhuaridh appeared at the door, at the same time as the ambulance crew, she wanted to throw her arms around him.
She moved out of the way as they quickly assessed Gerry, then moved him onto a stretcher. Gerry seemed to have regained consciousness, although his colour remained terrible. She darted around to the side of the bed and grabbed his hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t feel well?’ she asked.
He shook his head and as he made that movement, parts of her brain sprang to life. The way his colour hadn’t been great the last few months, his indigestion, his tiredness.
A tear sprang to her eye. She’d missed it. She should have told him to get checked out. But she’d been too preoccupied with herself, too occupied with the show—and with Rhuaridh—to properly look out for her colleague.
Rhuaridh pulled some bottles from his bag and found two separate tablets. ‘Gerry,’ he said firmly. ‘I need you to swallow these two tablets. It’s important. Can you do that for me?’
One of the ambulance crew handed him a glass of water with a straw. ‘C’mon, mate, let’s see if you can manage these.’
After a few seconds Gerry grimaced then managed to swallow down the tablets. Rhuaridh opened Gerry’s shirt and quickly attached a monitor to his chest.
Kristie reached out and touched his shoulder. ‘Gerry, I’m sorry, please be okay.’
Gerry’s eyes flickered open. ‘Hey,’ he said shakily. ‘Remember the camera.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘Don’t want to miss anything.’ His eyes closed again and Kristie felt herself moved aside as the ambulance crew member reached for the stretcher.
She gulped then grabbed the car keys as Rhuaridh turned towards her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered.
Rhuaridh’s voice was low. ‘I think he’s had a heart attack. I’ll be able to confirm it at the hospital.’
She nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek.
‘Hey,’ he said softly as he picked up his bag. His other hand reached up and brushed her tear away. ‘Don’t cry. We’ll get things sorted.’
