Page 25 of Escape to Starshine Cove
I see Sophie start to pick the chairs back up, and begin to clear up the mess on the floor – discarded sticky pads, a shattered sundae glass, the bright yellow video console. I see it, but I’m still trying to regulate my own breathing. Connie approaches me with a towel, and starts to wipe it over my body – I realise that I am wet, from ice cream and spilled coffee. I nod, and take it from her.
“I’m fine,” I say, reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Dan was a star, tell him thank you.”
She gives me a cautious once-over, then replies: “Ironically, I suspect he’s nipped outside for a vape. But I will. You stay here for a minute, madam – don’t be dashing off.”
I see her make eye contact with George, who immediately takes hold of my shoulders and steers me towards one of the stools. I sit down gratefully, suddenly exhausted, and smile as he lifts up Larry and places him in my arms. The dog licks my face frantically, obviously confused by everything that’s been happening, and I murmur calm words that work for both of us, comforting myself as well as him.
The level of chatter in the café has suddenly shot up as everyone seems to talk to each other at once. I see Connie making her way through the room, offering refills on drinks, passing out trays of brownies, making sure that everybody is all right. This will be an interesting anecdote for everyone else here, maybe a frightening memory for some, perhaps even a wake-up call for others – but for poor Geoff and his family, it’s going to be life changing. Even if he survives, there’ll be a long, hard road to recovery.
Once she’s finished her rounds, Connie takes up her customary place behind the counter. She gets me a Diet Coke from the fridge, and passes it over, hands shaking.
“That,” she says seriously, “was amazing.”
“Not really,” I reply, managing to open the can without a visible tremble in my own fingers. “It’s really good you had the defibrillator, and that the ambulance got here so quickly.”
“There’s an ambulance station about three miles away, which in rural terms is pretty much next door – but yes. It was lucky. Might have been a different story if it was at night, or at a weekend, or even a month later – it’s only in use during tourist season, when there are more people here. Luck all round, I suppose – mainly having you here, Ella. You saved that man’s life. Don’t play it down – you didn’t just save him, you saved that whole family from a lifetime of loss.”
She seems even more affected than me, and I am I uncomfortable with the attention.
“Maybe, who knows? The hospital will do the real work.”
She is drumming her fingertips on the surface, and her blue eyes have narrowed.
“How could you do all of that?” she asks eventually. “Is that your job, are you a doctor?”
I gulp down some of the Coke, and then reply: “Hummm… I went on a course.”
“A course?” she says, smiling. “And how long was that course?”
Realising I’ve been well and truly rumbled, I answer: “Oh, about six years or so…”
She lets out a delighted laugh, and George pats me on the back.
“Well done, love,” he says, sounding like a proud dad at prize evening. “Connie’s right, that was amazing. No need to hide your talents under a bushel – it’s hardly a shameful secret is it, being a doctor?”
“No,” I answer, “not shameful – but you do learn to be cautious. I mean, one minute you’ll be at a party, chatting to someone over a vol-au-vent, and the next minute they find out what you do for a living, and before you know it you’re locked in the bathroom with a complete stranger, in your best frock and make-up, examining someone’s swollen testicle or fungal nail infection. You wouldn’t believe how many rashes I’ve been asked to look at over the years!”
Connie guffaws with laughter, and George gives me the kind of cagey look that I know means he was considering asking me about something himself. Hopefully not a swollen testicle.
“Well, you were a blessing today, Ella,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. “It would all have been very different without you. I wouldn’t have known what to do, and Connie here would probably have just wafted a croissant under his nose and hoped it brought him round. You have a gift, and it was a privilege to see you use it.”
Huh, I think, as I nod and drink my Coke. A gift, a blessing…these words have not seemed relevant to my job for a long time, but maybe he is right. Geoff is still alive, and that means he has a chance. He might get to see his son grow up, and grow old with his wife, and one day view this all as a terrible thing that happened, but could have been much worse.
I made a difference – and I have to admit, it feels good.
ChapterThirteen
It starts the very next day. I have had a lie-in, and wandered downstairs for a late breakfast. Miranda is on duty, as Jake has gone away for a few nights to visit his father in Warwickshire.
She ambles over at her understandably slow pace, and deposits a tray carrying my granola, along with a bowl of fresh berries and a little jug of honey. There is, as usual, also a sausage for Larry.
Normally, I’d thank her, and she’d give me a no-worries smile, and amble all the way back to the kitchen again – but today, she lurks at the side of the table, obviously feeling awkward. I see her open her mouth and close it again several times, and eventually decide I have to put her out of her misery.
“I love your T-shirts,” I say, gesturing to today’s version – a hot pink ‘not-fat-I’m-pregnant’ top.
“Oh, yeah, they’re fun aren’t they? I’m thinking of getting some more for after I’ve had the baby, but this time they’ll say ‘I’m not pregnant, I’m just fat’.”
“Ha! That would be even funnier. How far along are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
