Heart (26 page)

The paramedic broke through the crowd, her and the rest of the world moving in slow motion.

I held him tighter, convinced his hand gripped mine in return. Tears dropped from my chin onto him.

I knew this was it.

The end.

As his heart broke, as my heart broke, I sent him my words. My love.

“I love you. Can you hear me? I love you.
I LOVE you
.”

Jake’s eyes opened.

I saw his soul.

I heard his voice in my head, telling me he loved me.

And then nothing.

I wish I could tell you that Jake woke up. Or that the paramedic saved him. Or that there was a medical miracle in the hospital. Or that he was still in a coma. Or that my heart wasn’t broken. That I wasn’t broken.

But I can’t.

He didn’t.

She didn’t.

There wasn’t.

He isn’t.

It was.

I was.

I can remember the paramedic tearing open Jake’s shirt to put the defibrillator pads on his chest. She told me I couldn’t hold his hand whilst she did it but I couldn’t leave him completely. I lay my hand next to his, so just the tips of our little fingers touched as his body jumped with each attempt to electrify him back to life. An ambulance brought two more paramedics to help. But they still weren’t enough.

I can remember being helped into the back of the ambulance after Jake had been put onto a stretcher. All the time they were trying to make him breathe again. Live again. I held his hand over every bump in the road, every traffic light we rushed through, blue lights glowing eerily through the window. I held my breath every time there was a sound from the monitors they had attached him to. I prayed to God to take me instead of him. To take me as well as him. To take me out of this moment where every cell in my brain was trying to deny what was happening in front of me.

I can remember taking my shoes off so that I could run down the corridor, following the stretcher into Accident and Emergency. I can remember the paramedics and doctors talking as they ran, Jake’s name the only word that made sense to me. Jake. I remember being stopped. Stopped as they took him away from me.
Jake!
I ran to the door, not yet ready, willing, able, to let him go. I banged on the wood, crying his name.
Jake
.
Jake
.
Jake
.

“You can’t go in there now, Neve,” the paramedic from the ambulance said. How did he know my name? They had asked me some questions in the ambulance. Questions about Jake. Questions about me. Questions which distracted me from trying to help Jake come back to life.

“Why?”
Why?
Why wasn’t I allowed to be with him, to hold him? “Please! I beg you. I need to be with him.” I gripped his hand, imploring him to let me in. “I won’t get in the way. I love him. Don’t do this. Don’t make him be alone. Not now.” I crumbled to the floor, my hands tearing at my hair in frustration. “Please!” Tears burned my face. Nerves shook my body. “Please,” I whispered.

“It’s the severe trauma unit and no one is allowed in. I can wait with you here until someone comes. Is there anyone I can ring? Family? Friends?”
Family? Friends?
The only person I wanted was Jake. But that was what he meant: not my friends or family. Jake’s. I tried to focus on what he was asking. For Jake’s sake.

“I don’t know his Mum’s number. And she’s in London anyway. He’s visiting me. I’m the only person he knows here. I’m all he has.” I couldn’t manage talking and crying and breathing at the same time. As I curled further into myself, panicked breathing tightening my chest, he leant down and pulled me up.

“Come on, let’s go down here.” He gently half-walked, half-carried me to a line of chairs in the corridor. “Slow your breathing, Neve. Put your head between your knees,” he said, rubbing my back. “What about you, love? Can I ring someone for you?” The rubbing continued, in a rhythm to breathe along with.

“My mum.”

“Give me your phone and I’ll ring her. Okay?” I handed him my phone and tried to maintain the rhythm of my breathing as he walked down the corridor. I could manage breathing and crying if I focused. In. Out. In. Out.

“She says they will be here in about three hours. She’s going to text you when they’re closer. She asked if I could ring someone called Mickey so you’re not alone. Is that okay with you?” I tried to nod but it made the room shift and swirl. My head filled with images of Jake being treated, tortured by strangers in the room at the end of the corridor. Lights, blood, noises all filled my thoughts, merging into a vision of Hell that Jake couldn’t escape from. And I was letting him face it alone.

I ran back to the door which separated us, thumping numbers into the security panel, desperate to save him. To save me. “Jake! I’m here!”

“Neve, calm down. You can’t do anything here. He’s in the best hands. Let them do their job.” I allowed myself to be shepherded back to the chairs.

“Did you speak to Mickey?”

“He’s going to be here in a few minutes. Now, you said Jake’s mum is in London. What about his dad? We need to get hold of someone from his family.”

“He’s dead.”

“His dad?” At the time, I didn’t think about why he had to check who I meant.

“Yes. When he was a kid. It’s just his mum, and his brother and sister.”

“Are either of them adults?”

“No, Jake’s the eldest.”

“Okay. I’m going to speak to the nurse now. I won’t be long. You stay here.” He gave my back another rub before leaving me.

He returned with the nurse, talking to her in hushed whispers as they walked toward me.

I knew what she was going to say before she looked at me.

I knew it before we got to the hospital.

I knew it when Jake’s eyes had opened and he had silently told me he loved me one last time.

I just couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it.

“Neve, we’re just going to go to the waiting room. Come on.” He helped me up by the elbow, like I was an old lady, like I was someone who might crumple to the floor at any moment. Again.

I had to follow. I had to hear the words nobody wants to say and even fewer people want to hear.

We sat in a triangle of plastic chairs and I wondered if someone had decided this was the perfect seating combination for breaking bad news: no sides, everyone within comforting distance, nowhere to hide. The nurse reached across and put her hand on my knee.

“Neve.” I looked up. “I’m Simone. Jake suffered a serious head trauma when he fell.” Cue the dramatic pause they have in every hospital drama. “The emergency response team have done all they can, but there was nothing that could be done to resuscitate him. I’m sorry.” She gripped my knee more tightly, as if that would help the information to sink in. Or stop me running away from the truth.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t scream.

I didn’t fall apart.

Then.

“Can I see him?” I needed to see my boy again, to touch him again. It would need to last me forever. They wouldn’t deny me that, would they? Could they?

“Of course. They’re just taking care of him now and then they’ll put him into a side room.”

“What about his mum? Do I need to ring her?”

“No, love. We’ve got his mobile and have already tried to get hold of her. The Police will make sure she’s informed as soon as possible.”

“Oh, okay.” I thought of Grace and Josh, being awoken by policemen knocking at the door. And then stopped myself: I couldn’t afford the luxury of worrying about their sorrow.

“Have you got any other questions?”

Why him?

Why us?

Why?

“Did it hurt him? Did he suffer?” I managed to choke out.

“No. The force of the impact knocked him unconscious and he didn’t wake up. He wouldn’t have felt anything.”

“Do you promise?” I whispered, needing her to tell me the only answer which would let me sleep again.

“I promise,” she said, looking into my eyes and willing me to believe her. “I’ll go and see how they’re getting on. You stay here until I get you.” Giving my knee one final squeeze, she stood up and left.

I sat in silence, trying to work out what it meant that Jake was dead.

That he was no longer living.

That he would never kiss me again.

Never.

“Neve! Neve, breathe.” Somewhere, on the edge of consciousness, I heard the paramedic’s words.

“What’s your name?” I wheezed.

“Jon.” He rubbed my back again.

“Thanks for—” As if he knew the worst moments of my life were being played out with complete strangers, Mickey arrived before I could finish. I fell into his arms, allowing myself to disintegrate into tears.

Jon squeezed my shoulder and left us. For the first time I could remember, Mickey was silent. He just held me. When the tears subsided a little, I sat back and tried to tell him what Simone had said. He didn’t ask questions, sensing there was no way I would be able to cope with replaying what had happened.

“When she gets you, do you want me to come in with you?” As touched as I was by his offer, I knew that wouldn’t have been right. I needed to be alone with Jake. To say goodbye. I shook my head against his chest and held on tight. “Okay. I’ll be here waiting. I’m not going anywhere.”

It wasn’t long before Simone appeared in the doorway. “Neve, do you still want to see Jake?” As scared as I was of what he would look like, I was more scared of not seeing him again. I nodded. “Come on then, love.”

Mickey gave me one final squeeze. “Be strong. And say whatever you need to tell him. His soul will hear.” His words made the tears fall faster, and I swiped at them as I followed Simone. She stopped outside a room. The blinds on the window and door were closed, but I knew Jake was in there. I could feel him.

“He’s in here. He’s comfortable. There’s nothing to be scared of. If you need anything, just press the buzzer. Ready?” I nodded. She held the door open. “Take as long as you need, honey.” She closed the door quietly behind her.

The dimness actually made it easier to focus on Jake. He looked just like he did when he slept. There was no mark, no bruise, blood. Just my beautiful, handsome boy. They had removed the remnants of his shirt and covered him with a sheet, tucked neatly underneath his armpits.

I walked over to the bed, uncertain if he would look different up close. But he didn’t. He was Jake.

My Jake.

I sat in the chair next to the bed, scooting it over to be as close as I could get. Taking a deep breath, I reached over and took his hand in mine. It was cool but didn’t have the frozen rigidity I was expecting. I tangled my fingers in his, the same way we always held hands. I absorbed every detail of his hands: the patterns in his skin, the rough patches, the straight edges of his nails. For the rest of my life, I wanted to be able to remember his hands. The hands which had held mine less than an hour earlier. The hands which had touched me, held me all of last night.

With my other hand, I traced the lines of his tattoo, following the swirls and curls of the myrtle as it grew around the oak tree. I could feel the lines of his muscles underneath the ink.
How could life be taken so quickly? How could someone who had so much respect for living things not be given more of a chance? How?

“Can you hear me? I hope you’re not hurting. I can’t bear to think of you in pain. You’ve had so much pain to deal with and you’ve always been so strong.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m sorry I moved to Brighton. I’m sorry we went out tonight. But most of all, I’m sorry we won’t get to spend our future together. Do you want to know something funny? When we were at the park last time, I imagined us there in the future. With kids. And a dog. I didn’t want to say anything in case it scared you off. But I know that’s what you wanted – a future with a happy family. You would have been such a great dad. Just look at how you take care of Grace and Josh. Your dad would have been so proud of you, you know.
I’m
so proud of you.

“Are you with your dad? I’ve never really believed in God and all that stuff, but right now, I want to believe you are somewhere beautiful with your dad. And you’re happy.” I wanted that for him so badly. I would have read nothing but The Bible for the rest of my life if it meant he could have that.