looked to Rosemary for backup and Rosemary nodded briefly.
‘Okay,’ said the nurse kindly. ‘Let’s hope he does it again.’
Jack thumped on the front door of Willow Cottage. ‘Leo! Open the door!’ he shouted but there was no response. He went back to the living-room window.
‘Beth!’ he yelled as he repeatedly smacked his hand on the glass but there was no movement from her. She remained curled up on the sofa deathly still. A thought struck him and fear shot through his insides like his first-ever vodka shot – he might already be too late. He pulled out his phone, dialled 999 and ran to the back of the cottage to see if he could easily get in that way. Jack pulled at the stable doors and checked the windows but everything was securely locked up.
The 999 operator answered and Jack asked for an ambulance, explained that he thought Beth was suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning and gave the address. The operator was asking questions but Jack slid the phone into his pocket. He needed to get inside and fast. He pulled off his T-shirt, wrapped it around his elbow and with a sharp jab he smashed in one of the small sections of the kitchen window. He quickly brushed away the glass fragments with the T-shirt, threw it to the floor, put his hand through and released the window catch inside.
Jack pushed open the window, leaped onto the windowsill and was soon inside crouched on the worktop. ‘Leo!’ he hollered but there was no reply. Where was Leo? Had Beth been able to let him in? And if she hadn’t where had he gone and where was he now?
Jack’s primary focus had to be Beth. She was the priority. If he was right about the boiler and the carbon monoxide poisoning then he was fast running out of time. His heart was pumping hard and without thinking he took in a deep breath. A spike of a headache shot through his temple. Ignoring it he jumped down onto the damp and distorted floorboards, then hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room.
‘Beth!’ He dropped to his knees and gently patted her cheek. There was no response. He pressed his fingers to her neck and checked her pulse. She was still alive. The sense of relief was immense although he knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the front door. He struggled with the front-door lock with Beth in his arms because he couldn’t see what he was doing. He felt odd, like he was floating, but it was not a pleasant sensation. Jack shook his head only to find that aided the dizziness and nausea that were gripping him. He lifted Beth higher into his arms and turned so he could see the lock properly. His head was pounding. He gripped the key and it turned clunkily in the lock. Jack reached for the latch but his vision was blurring and his first attempt to grab it missed so that his fingers closed around air. He reached again and this time he had hold of it tightly. He released the door and pulled it open. His head felt heavy and his knees started to give way. Jack lunged forward out of the cottage, turning as he fell so that Beth would land on top of him and be protected from the ground. He was barely aware of the impact as he landed hard on the path and everything went black around him. His last thought was Leo.
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
