Page 96 of You Were Always the One

I cover him with a blanket, then sit holding his hand. His pulse is thready, his breathing shallow. Thankfully, the paramedics arrive quickly. Ten minutes after they get here, Miles is on his way to hospital.

I try to persuade Max to stay at home with Rita, while I follow the ambulance. ‘There’s no point all of us going. It could be hours before he’s seen,’ I tell him. ‘I promise I’ll let you know, as soon as I hear anything.’

‘No way, Mum. I’m coming with you.’ Max is adamant.

‘So am I,’ Rita says.

I don’t notice the traffic. In fact, I barely notice anything as I drive. Already in A&E when we get there, Miles is fast-tracked. Initial tests suggest he had a seizure after which he lost consciousness, possibly down to increased pressure in his brain. Three hours later, he’s admitted to a ward, his condition stable, but critical.

‘Why don’t you go home?’ I say to Max and Rita. ‘Get some sleep. I’m going to stay here.’ My instincts are telling me not to go far.

‘I want to stay,’ Max says.

‘There’s no point in all of us being exhausted,’ I say. ‘Really. Go home with Rita. You can come back in the morning.’

‘Holls? I think he wants to be with you.’ Rita puts an arm around his shoulders. ‘I’ll go home and get a couple of hours’ sleep and come back first thing.’

I give Rita my car keys, and she goes out to the car park, while Max and I head back to the ward. Someone has put a chair next to Miles’s bed.

‘Sit down, Mum. I’ll find another chair.’ Max goes off to look for one.

I sink into it, taking Miles’s hand, holding it, still watching him as Max comes back.

‘Do you think he can hear us?’ Max asks.

‘Quite possibly,’ I say, watching him pick up Miles’s other hand.

‘Hello, Dad,’ he says quietly. ‘Me and Mum are here.’ There are tears in Max’s eyes as he glances at me.

I’m more exhausted than I can ever remember being; at the same time, more wired, unable to sleep even a wink. At some point in the night, a doctor comes to talk to me about the result of Miles’s scans, along with the pressure inside his brain. The fact that we need to prepare ourselves for the worst.

The following twenty-four hours, we sit with Miles. At some point, Rita comes back with Grace. We say ‘I love you’; because our problems of recent years will never preclude the love we share. We hold Miles’s hands. Say last emotional, tearful goodbyes, after which Rita drives my children home.

I sit with Miles, watching the faintness of his breathing. The slow fading of his life. Then as the sun sets on his final day, I hold his hand as he takes his final breath; as time runs out.

After, I sit there. It doesn’t matter what has happened between us. There is no taking away the sadness when you lose someone you love. When the end comes, all you can do is find small things to be grateful for. And that’s what I try to do. Be grateful that I was with him. That he is not in pain. That now that he’s left this world, he’s at peace.

It’s dark when a while later, I go outside. Numb, I gaze at the stars. An hour ago, Miles was part of my world. Of our family. Where is he now? What are all of us going to do without him?

I sink onto a bench as tears spill down my face. I thought we had weeks left. I wasn’t expecting this. Nor do I have any way of getting home. There’s only one person I want to speak to. I forget that it’s the middle of the night.

Taking out my phone, I call Riggs.

33

RIGGS

I come around to the sound of my phone buzzing. Sleepily reaching out a hand to pick it up, I knock it onto the floor, waking up with a shock, suddenly terrified it’s Emma as my heart starts to thud.

My first thought is what if something’s happened to Fraser? Switching on the light, I pick my phone up just as it stops ringing. Then read the notification. A missed call, from Holly.

Wide awake, I call her back, wondering why she’s calling. Then aware of the time, I know something’s very wrong.

She answers straight away. ‘Riggs?’ Her voice sounds tearful.

‘You OK, Holls?’ But I already know she isn’t.

‘Miles died,’ she sobs. ‘About an hour ago.’