‘And that?’ A slanting lower-caseh.
‘Altitude above sea level.’
God, I fancy him.
Maybe he can see the heat in my eyes, because his voice becomes low and seductive. ‘And that,’ he says, totally playing to his audience, ‘stands forthrust.’
I begin to giggle.
He smiles at me, but I can see worry residing in the depths of his lovely eyes. He nods in the direction of the old harbour ruins that look like toppled Jenga blocks and we begin to walk across his canvas.
‘I’m no longer a helicopter pilot, Liv,’ he says quietly. ‘I quit my job a few months ago.’
My chest contracts because I don’t think it’s what he wanted, judging from his wrecked expression. I wait for him to tell me why.
We sit down beside each other on a section of the old harbour wall. The flat, wide rock is cold and damp from the sea air and I’m glad of the jeans and jumper I threw on before we left the house.
He looks at me directly. ‘Do you remember asking me if I was an only child?’
‘Yes.’
It was when we were talking about how he used to come to Cornwall as a boy, and about that one time he stayed with his grandfather for six weeks while his parents were going through a rough patch in their marriage. I have no idea how it’s relevant to why he’s quit his job, though.
‘It wasn’t the full truth. I had an older brother who I never knew. He died in his sleep when he was ten months old. The doctors said it was SIDS. Sudden infant death syndrome.’
‘Your poor parents,’ I murmur, shifting so I’m more turned towards him.
‘Late last year, my dad suffered a cardiac arrest. He survived, but he’d had fainting episodes leading up to it, which is exactly what happened to my grandfather before his own cardiac arrest.’
My brow furrows as I wait for him to go on.
His expression is grave. ‘Turns out, my dad has a heart condition that affects how his heart beats. This condition can cause arrhythmias – fast, erratic heartbeats – as well as blackouts, fainting and, in some cases, seizures. Normally, the heart’s rhythm will reset after a couple of minutes and the person will regain consciousness. But in my grandfather and father’s cases, it carried on beating abnormally and they went into cardiac arrest. My grandad was on his own, but my dad was with a friend who thankfully knew how to perform CPR and they managed to get his heart going again. He was later diagnosed with long QT syndrome – LQTS.’
I’ve never heard of it.
‘It’s rare,’ he continues, pausing before adding, ‘It’s also hereditary.’
I stare at him, my blood running cold. I reach out and take his hands, my nerves stretched to breaking point.
‘It’s likely to have been the real cause of my brother’s death,’ he reveals.
‘Do you have it too?’ I ask the question on a sharp intake of breath, suddenly overwhelmed, as if I might cry.
‘I don’t know for certain,’ he admits gently, allowing me to bring his hands closer, onto my lap. ‘But I think that I might.’
‘Have you had any symptoms?’ It’s hard to even get the question out with the sudden swelling in my throat.
‘I blacked out five months ago.’
I gasp.
‘And I stopped flying that same day,’ he continues. ‘The thought of fainting in the cockpit while we were on a call-out … I didn’t need to be diagnosed to know that I could never risk flying again.’
‘But you’ve been diagnosed now?’
He shakes his head.
‘Why not?’ I ask with alarm.
