There was something on his face and Jack pushed it away. He could feel the cold of the stone path on his bare back but there was something soft, like a pillow, under his head. He was unsure what was going on and his memory was sketchy.
‘Hey, you need that, pal. It’s oxygen,’ said the paramedic, putting the mask back in place. Jack opened his eyes and tried to focus; it took a few attempts. ‘I’m Clark,’ said the ordinary-looking paramedic and Jack managed to raise an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, I know, my parents had a sense of humour. But you’ve been the real Superman today …’
Jack’s memory came flooding back to him. ‘Is she all right?’ he asked. His throat was dry and the words were barely a croak. He tried to lift his head and the pounding increased.
‘She’s on her way to hospital, she’s not conscious yet but they’re working on her. You did good, pal. You need to take some steady deep breaths for me. We’re flushing the carbon monoxide out of your system with oxygen, okay?’
Jack did as he was told and took in a deep lungful of oxygen. He looked around him and saw another paramedic was at his side setting up a stretcher. Beyond him a police car and a fire engine were parked near the pub and a policeman was keeping rubberneckers away.
‘Nice steady breaths, that’s great,’ said Clark. ‘We’ll move you in a minute and get you properly checked out at hospital.’
Jack took another deep breath and felt his body start to revive. He still had the pounding headache but his brain was starting to fire up. ‘Leo!’ he said into the mask, forcing himself upright.
‘Hey, you want to be lying nice and still. Whoa!’ said Clark as Jack wrenched off the mask.
‘Leo is missing, he’s six years old, he could be in there,’ Jack explained, breathlessly pointing towards the cottage.
Clark tried to reattach the oxygen mask. ‘Nope, it’s all clear. We alerted the fire service and they’ve been in and checked. There’s nobody else in there.’
‘Then he’s missing,’ said Jack, struggling but failing to get up.
‘Whoa there, mister. You’re going nowhere,’ said Clark, taking hold of Jack’s bare arm and easing him back into a lying position. ‘Let the police handle it,’ he added, waving them over.
A rather serious-looking police officer jotted down everything Jack told him. Jack passed him his mobile and guided him to the picture of Nick’s silver BMW.
‘This guy may not have anything to do with it but in case he does,’ said Jack. He had no idea where Nick was; he was most likely back home in London but he couldn’t take the risk. Leo was missing and Nick was the prime suspect.
The hospital corridors were busy again with visitors trooping in and out. Rosemary and Carly were waiting in the queue in the canteen. Neither of them wanted to eat anything but both knew they had to. Cormac had decided to skip lunch because he’d had a large muffin with a coffee not long ago so had sent the women off to eat together. Carly didn’t know Rosemary that well. Fergus’s parents flew over to London a few times every year but visits were fleeting and Carly often found she was there mainly as an interpreter. She didn’t mind, it was Fergus they came to see, she knew that, but it did encroach on any conversation she might have had with his parents. They hadn’t said much to each other since they had been sharing the bedside vigil – the music conversation had been the most they had interacted.
Rosemary looked at Carly’s bowl of soup, which was rapidly going cold on the tray. ‘You still a vegetarian?’ she asked. Rosemary must have been struggling for things to talk about too.
‘Yep, still a veggie.’
‘Not much choice, is there?’ said Rosemary, poking her packet of unappealing sandwiches.
They paid for their food and found a recently wiped-down table to unload their trays onto.
‘How long are you staying?’ asked Carly. ‘I’m thinking that Cormac will need to be back at work tomorrow, won’t he?’
‘He will. But I can’t leave Fergus.’ Rosemary shook her head as she wrestled with the sandwich carton. Carly held out her hand and Rosemary passed it over. Carly opened the carton and handed it back. ‘Thank you.’
They ate in silence. The soup was still warm and surprisingly tasty. Carly realized that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial since she and Beth had walked through Chinatown, which now seemed such a long time ago. An incident like this put all your usual structures out of kilter; drinks and food were grabbed randomly through necessity at any time of the day or night, hours passed and time lost any meaning. Carly had a very real fear that something might happen, good or bad, when she was away from the bedside, which had become an overwhelming power that made her not want to leave. She had gone hours between toilet breaks in case something happened while she was away.
Rosemary pushed the remains of her sandwich back into the carton. ‘Would you mind if I stayed with you when Cormac goes home?’ she asked, and Carly’s eyes shot up from her soup, a spoonful suspended en route to her mouth. ‘It’s just that I’m none too keen on staying in a hotel on my own, you see.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Carly, recovering herself. ‘It’ll be company for me too.’ What else could she say?
‘Now, you’re sure you don’t mind?’
Carly’s mind flashed back to the flat. She had barely noticed anything when she had gone back to change but she knew the sofa was still a made-up sofa bed that Beth had slept on. Their bedroom was chaos; she had flung her clothes on the bed on top of the numerous outfits she had previously left there when she had been deciding what to wear to her engagement party and there was definitely no milk in the fridge. Rosemary was waiting for a response.
‘I don’t mind, but you might. It’s a bit of a tip because …’ She suddenly wanted to tell her about the engagement because if she didn’t tell her now when would there ever be a right opportunity? Her hand instinctively went to her pocket to check the ring was still there and it was; the shape of it under the fabric of her jeans reassured her.
‘Oh, that doesn’t matter. I quite like to tidy up, that’ll be something I can do to help you,’ said Rosemary, leaning across and laying her hand on Carly’s. ‘Perhaps we could have a rota so there’s always someone with Fergus.’
Carly wrestled with her conscience. Fergus wanted to tell his parents about the engagement face to face, she knew that, but when would that be? Beth came into her mind. She knew what Beth would say. She would tell her to stop and think. And she was right, now was not the time. Any pleasure at sharing the engagement news would be short-lived