‘Tom,’ I say urgently, slapping his cheeks to try to wake him up. He’s out cold. ‘Tom!’
I know that in cases of fainting or blackouts, there’s every chance the heart will restart itself and reset its own rhythm, but he is not moving and when I anxiously press my fingers to his neck, I feel no pulse.
‘Oh God, Tom, no.’ I look around frantically to see if there’s anyone who can help me, but I can’t see a single soul, so I pull out my phone and dial emergency services, throwing it to oneside and hoping to God there’s mobile phone reception as I begin to perform CPR.
Placing one hand on top of the other in the centre of his chest, I begin to push hard and fast.
‘Tom, please,’ I implore, tilting his head back and pinching his nose, delivering two rescue breaths before continuing with compressions.
Up ahead, a man appears over the hill, coming from the direction of Trevellas Cove. I scream out to him, ‘HELP ME!’ and he picks up his pace.
‘Can you get the AED – the defibrillator! It’s outside the Surf Life-Saving Club,’ I shout when he’s nearby. I snatch up my phone and swear at the sky. ‘AND CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE!’ I scream after him as he runs away.
I look down at Tom in time to see him open his eyes.
‘Tom!’
He gazes up at me, sunshine reflected in his golden-brown depths.
‘Oh, thank God. Are you okay? Tom?’
‘What happened?’ he asks me.
‘Your heart stopped. It just stopped.’
‘I felt it flutter.’
I press my face to his neck and weep, my hand firmly on his chest so I can ensure that his heart stays strong. I want to sculpt this chest one day, this heart I love so much, this heart I fear could still be taken from me.
He raises his hand and weakly pats my back, and in the distance, after not very long at all, we hear the sound of rotors whirring. He turns his head to look at the sky and we bothwatch as a red-and-white search and rescue helicopter creeps ever closer.
‘That’s ironic,’ he murmurs under his breath.
Tom saved hundreds of lives when he flew a helicopter just like this one.
‘You’re a bit late, buddies,’ he adds for my benefit only as the door opens and a winchman is lowered down. ‘My wife already saved me.’
He’s trying to keep his tone light, but I’m so shocked and terrified I can’t even smile.
‘You still need to go to the hospital and get checked out,’ I tell him.
He doesn’t argue.
‘Fuck, Tom, you scared the shit out of me!’ I cry.
‘I love you,’ he says.
The winchman is almost upon us.
‘I love you too,’ I reply.
But the next time his heart stops, he’s alone.
Six summers from now …
He is gone.
And I am lost.
