For years, she’d been reading about the long wait times for ambulances, but by some absolute miracle, only a few minutes had passed when she heard banging on her door.She rushed downstairs to let them in.‘He’s up here,’ she blurted, then led the two paramedics with kitbags, one male, one female, upstairs, taking two at a time again.
In the bathroom, they quickly assessed the damage, and Amber almost cried with relief when Ray left out a low moan.He wasn’t going to die in her shower.Or at all, hopefully.There hadn’t been a time in her life when she’d ever contemplated that thought would be in her head.Or that her bathroom would be host to two paramedics, one naked man and, she saw now, a definite erection that the medics were too professional to mention.That probably answered the Viagra question she’d pondered earlier.Her face flushed to the colour of the sexy red knickers she’d worn for the occasion.
She stepped back to let them work, then watched as they slipped a yellow collar around his neck, then gently manoeuvred a drowsy Ray out of the shower and onto the bathroom floor.She grabbed her dressing gown from the door and covered his still-erect dignity with it as they tried to communicate with him, while he was drifting in and out of consciousness.One of them went back out to the ambulance and returned with a stretcher.Gently, carefully, they eased him onto it, then carried him out of the door.As Amber followed behind them, fear gripping every nerve in her body, she glanced back at the shower and immediately saw the culprit.He was ten inches tall.Bright yellow.Squirted water from his mouth.Answered to the name SpongeBob Square Pants.He was also Sid’s very favourite bath toy.
‘Are you coming with us?’the paramedic asked, and Amber realised she hadn’t thought about it, but there was only one answer.
‘Yes.Yes, of course.’
At the bottom of the stairs, they paused to let Amber go ahead and open the door for them, then steered the stretcher outside.It must have been the snap of cold air, or perhaps the motion of the stretcher on the gravel path, but he suddenly came round again and began to mumble.
More relief.And thanks.And gratitude to the heavens.Until…
The words he was murmuring caused her to pause.Had she heard that?No.She must have got it wrong.
He said the same words again.
And Amber’s soul left her body.
Because she was entirely positive that he’d just mumbled something about calling his wife.
8
MARGE – SUNDAY 21 FEBRUARY 2021
As she glanced around the crowd of solemn faces in the foyer of Glasgow Cathedral, Marge couldn’t help but think that Kenneth would be happy with what he saw.
After much discussion with Kenneth’s daughter, Nina, and his work colleagues, the funeral was taking place on a Sunday to accommodate the busy schedules of the assembled mourners, because if this were a weekday, there would be very few intricate, life-saving cardiac surgeries taking place in the central belt of Scotland this morning because every top heart surgeon that immediately came to mind was here.As were dozens of renowned specialists in other fields, several of the board members from the Scottish Society of Surgeons and she could see at least two peers of the realm.
According to the order of service that had been given out as the mourners entered the foyer, Sir Lester Kelaney was giving a eulogy.Oh, Kenneth would love that.And he’d be thrilled to see a few politicians, city councillors, and even… was that…?Yep, there was Jonas Connolly, Scotland’s newest addition to the House of Lords.Kenneth had performed lifesaving surgery on one of Lord Connolly’s grandchildren, earning eternal gratitude from the peer and his family.In fact – Marge cast another subtle glance around – there were probably at least a dozen people here who owed their lives to Kenneth’s brilliance.Such a sad, tragic irony that his death, and his absence from the profession, may ultimately lead to more lives being lost.
Kenneth Manson was many things to many people, but to her, he was the man that she’d worked alongside for three decades.As his secretary and executive assistant, she’d sat outside his office, met all his patients, fielded all of his calls, kept his diary and organised almost every hour of his life.She’d arranged the cocktail parties that he hosted as networking events, she’d managed his professional finances, and yes, it was a cliché – even bought his wife’s birthday and Christmas presents.
Without thinking, she pulled a cotton square hanky from the pocket of her thick wool coat and dabbed at her nose.
‘Are you okay, Marge?’
The whispered voice in her ear was full of concern, and Marge was grateful for it, especially as the young woman beside her had stepped in to save the day at the last minute.
She’d been planning on coming alone, but her daughter, Estelle, had insisted on joining her.‘I know how much he meant to you, Mum, and I can’t stand the thought of you being there alone,’ she’d said over coffee and croissants the previous week.Estelle always dropped by on her way to yoga on a Saturday morning, and Marge treasured those starts to the weekend.Sometimes she came alone, but most mornings Estelle’s best friend, Amber, would be with her.It was their standing joke that Marge had given birth to one daughter but ended up with two, because the young women had been joined at the hip for years and Marge adored them both.
Marge had tried to resist Estelle’s offer to come to the funeral, but Estelle had been so insistent, she’d conceded in the end, realising that the more she dug her heels in, the more her daughter would match her energy.Estelle was kind, she was generous, she was smarter than Marge would ever be, but she was also stubborn as a mule and fiercely protective of Marge, probably because the two of them had been on their own for so long.
The plan had been set… until nine o’clock this morning, when Estelle had called in a panic.‘Mum, I rolled my ankle when I was out running this morning.I’m so sorry.I’m on the couch with an ice pack on it and I can’t put any weight on it.That’s what I get for being bloody healthy on a weekend.I should totally have stayed in bed.Anyway, Amber was already at the Cathedral doing the flowers, so she’s going to come get you and accompany?—’
Marge had realised what her daughter was about to say and cut her off.‘No, no – that’s not necessary.I’m happy to go on my?—’
Just at that, the doorbell had rung, and there was Estelle’s best friend, dressed head to toe in black.
‘I believe you ordered a funeral companion?’Amber had said, before wincing.‘Too soon?Sorry, I make terrible jokes when I’m in sad situations.’
Marge had smiled to put her at her ease.‘Not too soon.But honestly, Amber, you really don’t need to…’
‘Oh, but I do.I’d hate my mum to have to go to a funeral on her own.Especially someone she was close to.I’m happy to do it.And it’s the least I could do after you recommended me for the flowers.It’s the biggest job of my year so far.I just got done with the final touches at the cathedral – that’s why I’m already dressed like this.’
Even in the solemnity of the day, Marge was pleased to know that Amber’s business would benefit from the occasion.When Nina had asked her for help in planning the invitations and attendee list for the funeral, Marge had offered another couple of solutions too, and one of them had been the flowers for the cathedral.Kenneth’s daughter had taken her suggestion on board, and now that they were here at the cathedral, Marge could see that it had been a good choice – the flowers were indeed stunning.
However, Marge’s gaze was prevented from lingering on them, because the attention of everyone in the foyer suddenly turned to stare out of the huge open doors, where the funeral cars were now pulling up.
