Five minutes? It wasn’t possible, thought Clementine. It had been an unbearably long stretch of time.
There was something in Ruby’s mouth, a tube in her nose, a mask over her face. She’d been turned into a generic patient. Not their wicked, funny little Ruby.
‘Have you got any towels?’ asked the younger paramedic. He was using a pair of large, serrated scissors to cut a straight line through Ruby’s clothes: her tutu, her long-sleeved T-shirt, unpeeling the layers of clothing to reveal Ruby’s tiny white chest.
‘Of course.’ Vid hurried inside and returned with a stack of beautifully folded white fluffy towels.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Sam sharply as the paramedic dried Ruby’s body firmly and pressed two sticky pads to her chest.
‘These are defibrillator pads,’ said the paramedic. ‘In case she arrests again. We’re just preparing for the worst case scenario. It can also give us useful information.’
Ruby’s little arms flailed about.
‘We’re going to sedate her,’ said the older paramedic. ‘Are there any allergies I need to know about?’
‘None,’ said Sam.
‘Is she on any medication? What’s her medical history?’
‘She’s never even had antibiotics,’ said Clementine.
The paramedic tapped the side of a needle. Clementine saw white dots in front of her eyes.
‘Watch her,’ said the paramedic sharply, and Clementine realised he meant her only when Sam took her arm.
Sam had always been the one to take the girls for their injections. Clementine couldn’t bear needles.
‘Head between your knees,’ said the paramedic.
‘I’m okay,’ said Clementine, breathing deeply.
‘Why are the police here?’ asked Sam. Clementine looked up and saw Vid talking to a very young-looking policewoman with a pert ponytail. She took notes as Vid spoke. What was he saying? The mother wasn’t watching. She was talking to me. She was telling jokes.
Clementine saw that Erika had got up from her position by the fountain next to Ruby without Clementine noticing and had moved inside the cabana. She had two white towels draped over her shoulders and another on her lap, where Holly now sat, her back to Clementine, her head resting on Erika’s shoulder.
‘It’s standard for an event like this,’ said the paramedic as he continued to treat Ruby. ‘They’ll just ask some questions to clarify what happened. We’ll also need them to help block off the street for the rescue helicopter.’
‘A helicopter?’ said Sam. ‘They’re sending a helicopter? Where are they going to land it?’
‘Basically outside the front door,’ said the paramedic. He bent over Ruby’s arm. Clementine looked away.
‘You’re kidding,’ said Sam.
‘They land on highways, backyards, tennis courts. This place is perfect. Nice wide cul-de-sac. Underground power lines. They do it all the time.’
‘Huh,’ said Sam.
‘Yeah, the blades are shorter than on a normal helicopter.’
For God’s sake, were they having a chatty, masculine conversation about helicopters?
Except that Clementine could see that even though Sam sounded like himself, he wasn’t really, because he was opening and shutting his fists, rapidly and obsessively, over and over, as if he were freezing cold or mad.
‘But why do they need a helicopter?’ said Clementine. The panic, which had receded a little when she’d seen Ruby’s chest move and even more so when the paramedics arrived, sky-rocketed again. ‘She’s okay now, isn’t she? She’s going to be okay? She’s breathing now. Isn’t she breathing?’
She looked at Sam and saw the dread in his eyes. He was always a step ahead of her when it came to recognising danger ahead. Glass half-empty, she called it. Alert, he called it. Two crass, ugly words came into her head for the first time: brain damage.
‘It’s pretty standard procedure for a serious paediatric event. There will be a doctor on board. I expect they’ll intubate her and make sure she has stabilised before she goes on the helicopter,’ said the paramedic. He looked up at her. His skin had the roughened look of someone who spends a lot of time outdoors. There was a kind of professional weariness in his eyes, like a war veteran who has seen things a civilian could never understand. ‘Your friends did everything right.’
chapter fifty-two
We were all doing it. Clementine’s words hung in the air while she and Sam looked at each other over the mound of Holly’s clothes, breathing heavily.
Clementine heard the rain lashing Holly’s window and wondered if their little house could withstand this weather for much longer. Perhaps the walls would finally soften and sag and collapse.