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A hand had fallen on my shoulder then, and a voice I recognised had gently said my name. I turned around and for a moment I didn’t even recognise the man whose number I had phoned repeatedly over the last six days. In the end, Inspector Graham had done more to find Finn than simply send out a patrol car, he’d joined the search himself.
‘Wait here, Gemma, let me see if I can get you an update,’ he said.
He strode off in the direction of the recovery truck, which was still blocking my view of whatever was happening in the gully beyond it. It felt like he was gone for hours, but it was probably only fifteen minutes before I spotted him in the distance, waving an arm in my direction. I set off towards him as though a starting pistol had been fired.
‘Hey, you can’t do that,’ the young policeman protested as I sped past him, which was clearly incorrect, seeing as I’d very much just done it. He tried to catch hold of my arm, but I was too fast and too desperate to be stopped.
‘It’s okay,’ a voice called out through the rain. ‘Let her through.’
I have no memory of running the hundred yards or so that separated me from Inspector Graham. He gripped my shoulders firmly, bringing me to a bone-shuddering halt.
‘Gemma. Stop. Listen to me. They’ve got him out. He’s alive. Finn is alive.’
My knees tried to give way, but I wouldn’t let them. I saw now that there were even more emergency vehicles lined up beyond the recovery truck. My eyes flew straight past the fire engines and police cars, focusing only on the ambulance and the team of paramedics who were busily bent over a stretcher.
I turned a horrified gaze towards the police officer and then to the mangled remains of Finn’s car.
‘He’s badly hurt, but he’s still alive,’ Inspector Graham confirmed.
I was running again, faster than I’d ever done, past the sympathetic glances of the clustered emergency service personnel. I was calling Finn’s name over and over, but the figure on the stretcher remained horribly immobile and silent.
I hadn’t realised Inspector Graham was running right alongside me until I heard his voice calling out to the paramedics who were about to move the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.
‘Hold up a moment. This is his fiancée.’
It was Finn, but it wasn’t him. His eyes were still closed, blue veins visible through the alabaster skin. There was an oxygen mask covering his face, and his neck had been immobilised by a cervical collar. He was soaking wet. A heavily bloodstained bandage was wound tightly around an injury to his right leg, which one of the paramedics was attending to with a worried expression. There was scarcely an inch of Finn’s body that wasn’t covered in cuts or bruises, and his right shoulder and arm were at an angle that made me wince.
‘Finn,’ I cried, my voice not breaking but shattering as I looked down at his battered body. What kind of hell had he been through for the last six days? How had he ever survived?
‘How is he?’
The paramedics didn’t answer my question. ‘We need to get him to hospital,’ said one, and the fact that every second counted wasn’t lost on me.
‘How badly is he hurt?’ I pleaded, reaching out and grabbing Finn’s left hand. It felt cold, and for the first time ever, his fingers didn’t curl warmly around mine.
‘We really need to go.Now,’ said the other paramedic to his colleague.
‘Can he hear me?’ I asked desperately, moving with them as they wheeled the stretcher closer to the ambulance doors.
‘We had to give him something for the pain before the fire service could cut him free. We really need to get going. He’s lost a lot of blood and we’re concerned about possible internal injuries. But you can follow us to the hospital.’
I looked around despairingly. My car was far in the distance. ‘I’ll drive you,’ Inspector Graham said, his hand a comforting weight on my shoulder. ‘Can she just say goodbye first?’
Someone must have agreed, for they stepped back momentarily, allowing me to place a single kiss on Finn’s cheek. ‘I’m here, Finn. I’m right here. Please hold on.’
Inspector Graham was attempting to draw me back from the stretcher, but before he could, my hand delved into the pocket of my wax jacket.
‘Wait,’ I implored the paramedics as I took Finn’s wedding ring and shakily pushed the gold band on to the third finger of his left hand. ‘Okay,’ I said, stumbling back from the stretcher as though Iwas the accident victim, not Finn.
‘Was he ever conscious?’ I asked brokenly as I watched them slide the stretcher into the ambulance.
One of the paramedics looked up to answer me. ‘Only very briefly when we first got here.’
‘Did he say anything?’
The paramedic’s voice was softer, kinder now, knowing the importance of his next words. ‘Yes, he did. He said to tell Emma that he loved her.’
Beside me, Inspector Graham cleared his throat gruffly. ‘I think you may have misheard him. It would have been “Tell Gemma I love her”.’
