I could hear Cherise behind me on her walkie-talkie, but I didn’t hear her words.
Sarah was curled on one side of the bed, the arm that was underneath her was sticking out over the side, and her head was twisted at an awkward angle resting on it. There was an empty bottle of wine on the bedside table with a foil pill pack, all the little pill slots broken open next to it.
My brain registered all of this in seconds but came up with no explanation as to what it meant.
And then I worked out exactly what it meant. I knew exactly what it was I was looking at, and my legs propelled me forward of their own volition.
“Call an ambulance. Call an ambulance!” I shouted as I climbed across the bed.
I yanked Sarah towards me, and she was limp, lifeless. Her head flopped unnaturally, and it was horrible. So fucking horrible. She was lifeless.
A noise escaped my throat. A moan, a cry, a sob. Maybe a combination of all three.
“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do!” I didn’t know whom I was asking. I didn’t know if I was shouting, screaming, or crying. I didn’t even know if I was speaking aloud.
“Sir, the ambulance is on its way. The operator’s on the line, she can help.”
Cherise laid a mobile phone down next to me.
“Okay, sir, my name is Lisa, what’s yours?” The operator asked.
“Liam.”
“Ok, Liam. I need you stay calm and help me out.”
“Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”
I felt the side of Sarah’s neck, looking for a pulse, but I couldn’t feel anything. I panicked. I panicked and I fucking lost it.
“I can’t find it. She’s not breathing. What do I do? What do I do?” My words came out in a tumble.
“First, I need you to calm down, Liam. What can’t you find?”
“Her pulse. Sarah. She’s my wife, and I can’t find her pulse.”
“Okay, forget about finding her pulse, I want you to check that nothing is obstructing Sarah’s airway.”
“She’s been sick.”
“She’s been sick?”
“Yes.”
“Is she being sick now?”
“No, before I got here. There’s vomit over her arm and on the floor beside her.”
“Okay, while you clear her airway can you tell me if you can see any alcohol, or any medication in the vicinity?”
“Yeah, there’s wine.”
I opened Sarah’s mouth, stuck two fingers inside, and scooped them around. I must have forced them down a little too far, because she gagged. It was the best sound I had ever fucking heard, and I started to sob harder. I held Sarah to my chest, and I cried.
“She gagged. She gagged. She gagged.”
“That’s good. That’s a good sign, Liam. The paramedics are almost with you. They’re in the building and making their way to the room.
They stormed the room and forced me to do the hardest thing I had ever done in my life.
I let her go.
I let them take over. I stood and watched as they listened to her heart, took her blood pressure, set up a drip, and placed an oxygen mask over her face.
I had my fingers laced together and my hands pressing down on the top of my head.
Cherise stood next to me, saying something to the medics about the wine and the tablets, and then one of them picked up the packet. “Stilnox.”
He turned to me. “Do you know how many were in here? How many she might have taken?”
I shook my head.
“No. No. What are they?”
“Sleeping tablets.”
They worked to get her on a stretcher as we talked, and I followed them out of the room. Cherise led the way to the service lift, which had more room in it, but I couldn’t focus on what anyone else was doing.
“We don’t—she doesn’t take sleeping tablets. We don’t have them.”
“Well, she got them from somewhere.”
“I don’t know. Will she be okay? She gonna be all right?”
We climbed into the back of the ambulance, and I had to hold on to the seat as the driver flipped on the sirens and sped out of the parking bay.
“Let’s get her to the hospital, get some blood tests done, and go from there. You wanna come up here and hold her hand?”
I nodded, and we switched places. I reached out and both of my shaky hands enveloped Sarah’s. It felt small. It felt frail. It felt cold. It broke my fucking heart.
The next half hour or so was a blur. We were whisked into the emergency department, but they wouldn’t let me follow. All I could do was stand and watch as they took my wife away.
I gave all of the personal information on Sarah that I could offer to the administration staff, and then they showed me to a waiting room.
I sat, and then I stood. I paced, sat, stood, sat, and then paced again. Then I called Luke.
“Arsewipe?”
“You need to come to St Johns.”
I was surprised by the calmness of my voice.
“What? The hospital? Why, what’s happened?”
I didn’t know. What had happened? How? Why? My head spun, and I just wanted to sleep.
“Del? I’m on my way. What the fucks happened?”
“Sarah.”
“What?”