The stairs turned sharply to the left and, as she negotiated this turn, an uncertain light came in through a narrow window. It slanted across the unconscious body of a young man with dark hair lying on the half-landing. Bending over him was a second, older-looking man.
Nell froze, a shaft of panic slicing through her, then tensed her muscles to run back down the stairs and out to the safety of the street. But almost in the same moment she saw it was not after all the classic scenario of a householder attacked and the attacker preparing to finish his victim off. Whoever the older man was, he had loosened the unconscious boy’s collar, clearly attempting to revive him. But Nell still hesitated, and, as if aware of her apprehension, the man half-turned to look at her. Her first impression that he was too old to be Benedict Doyle had been right; he was probably in his mid-thirties and there was a brief impression of a rather pale, lean face. His face was still partly in deep shadow, but there was the definite glint of very vivid blue eyes.
‘What’s happened?’ said Nell, wishing he would say something. ‘I’m Nell West. I’m a friend of Nina’s. Is this Benedict? Has he fainted? Have you called a doctor – an ambulance?’
The man made a brief gesture with one hand that might have meant anything, and bent over Benedict again, obviously more concerned with him than with Nina’s friend.
Nell said, ‘He’s out cold, isn’t he? Ought I to dial nine nine nine?’
He frowned, still bending over Benedict, then nodded.
‘My phone’s downstairs in my bag,’ said Nell, relieved to have something definite to do, and to be summoning help. ‘I’ll go down and make the call. Um – he’s breathing and everything is he?’ But she could already see the slight rise and fall of the unconscious young man’s chest. Perhaps he had fallen down the stairs and knocked himself out, or perhaps he was an epileptic or something like that.
She went quickly back to the ground floor, and made the call. It was annoying not to be able to provide any details, but the fact that someone was unconscious seemed to trigger an instant response.
‘They’ll be with you as fast as possible,’ said the disembodied voice. ‘Traffic permitting. But they’ll put on the sirens for unconsciousness. Are you there on your own? D’you want to stay on the line until the paramedics get there?’
‘No, that’s all right,’ said Nell. ‘There’s someone else here.’
‘Don’t move the patient at all,’ said the voice. ‘Just put a blanket over him.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you very much.’
She went back to the foot of the stairs, and called up. ‘The ambulance is on its way. They said not to move him, but to cover him up. I’ll see if I can find a blanket or a rug.’
She opened several doors on the first floor before finding a big airing cupboard. Taking out a thick blanket, she went back upstairs. The unknown man seemed to have vanished; probably he had gone downstairs to open the front door for the ambulance, and most likely he had called out to tell her but she had not heard. This house seemed to have the curious quality of smothering sound. Nell put the blanket over the still-unconscious Benedict, and sat down on the floor, taking his hand in hers. Her touch seemed to reach him, because after a moment his fingers tightened around hers and his eyes opened. He looked up at her and Nell saw he had the same vivid blue eyes as the older man, although at the moment they were confused.
Nell said quickly, ‘You’re quite safe, but you fainted or something, so we’re getting you checked out. I’m Nell West – Nina’s friend.’
His gaze went beyond her. ‘Where’s Declan?’
Declan must be the older man. ‘He’s gone down to let the paramedics in,’ said Nell.
‘He was here . . .’ His voice sounded a bit slurred; Nell did not know if it was how he normally spoke. He frowned, then said, ‘The fire – oh God, we were trying to stop the fire – have they done that yet?’
‘There’s no fire,’ said Nell, slightly puzzled but not unduly so. ‘You’re in Holly Lodge. I think you fainted or fell down the stairs.’
‘I didn’t fall. At least I don’t think I did . . . There was a fire – the watchtower. It was burning – and he was inside and we couldn’t get him out – oh God, he screamed so much . . .’
‘Who screamed? Is someone trapped in a fire?’
‘Did someone get to him in time?’ said Benedict. ‘Did they save him?’ His hands came out to Nell and the blue eyes were filled with fear.
‘Everything’s fine,’ said Nell. ‘You don’t need to worry about anything.’ She heard, with relief, the sound of an ambulance outside, and then of people coming up the stairs.
She stepped back as the two paramedics bent over Benedict, and sat on the top stair to wait while they took his pulse and heartbeat.
‘ECG?’ asked the younger of the two.
‘Did he have any chest pains?’ said the other to Nell.
‘I’ve no idea. He was virtually unconscious when I found him.’
‘We’ll do an ECG anyway – fetch it from the van, will you? I don’t think it’s necessary though. BP’s a bit low, but not to cause too much concern. What did you say his name was?’
‘Benedict,’ said Nell.
‘Benedict, have you any pain anywhere?’ said the paramedic. ‘No? That’s good. Can you follow my finger if I hold it up? Yes, that’s fine.’ He looked round for Nell. ‘Vital signs all more or less normal,’ he said. ‘Pupils equal and reactive. He doesn’t seem to have been drinking, although he’s a bit uncoordinated. We’ll take him into A&E – they’ll do blood tests, and keep an eye on him for a few hours. If he fell down these stairs there might be some concussion. What’s his medical history? Is there any epilepsy? Or diabetes?’
‘Or does he take drugs of any kind, do you know?’ asked the younger one, who had come back with the portable ECG.
‘I don’t know anything about him,’ said Nell. ‘I’ve never met him before today. You’d have to ask – Benedict, did you say it was Declan who was here?’
‘Declan,’ said Benedict. ‘Yes, he was here.’ His voice still sounded slightly slurred.