Page 35 of Shy Innocent In The Spotlight

Their food arrived at that point and the conversation switched to other things. But Elspeth had only taken a couple of bites of her salad when she felt a tingling in her mouth, then, within a second or two, her tongue began to swell along with her throat. Panic gripped at her chest, her breathing becoming laboured, her heart rate escalating, a sweat breaking out on her body. She dropped her fork with a clatter and looked around for her bag. ‘Quick. I need my EpiPen.’

Mack was out of his chair so fast it fell over backwards with a noisy clatter. He rushed around to get her bag off the floor, quickly searching for the EpiPen and then handing it to her. ‘Can you do it or do you want me to do it for you?’ His voice was calm but she could see the worry in his gaze.

‘I can do it...’ She grabbed the EpiPen and jabbed herself in the thigh and within seconds her heart began to race and a wave of intense anxiety washed over her as the epinephrine raised her blood pressure and opened her airways. And then, she stopped thinking as the effect of the drug clouded her mind and rendered her body useless...

With one hand on her shoulder, Mack whipped out his phone and called for an ambulance. He could barely get his voice to work to give clear instructions to the emergency service personnel. His heart was hammering, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t let her die. She had to live. She had to survive. The panic built in his chest until he could scarcely inflate his lungs. He bent down and lowered her into the recovery position, gently soothing her, trying to keep the raging panic out of his voice. ‘They’re on their way. Stay with me, that’s a good girl. You’re doing fine.’

Please let her be doing fine, he prayed, to a God he hadn’t prayed to since he was a kid.

Within a short time an ambulance came wailing into the village square and Elspeth was loaded in, with Mack accompanying her. The plan was to take her to the emergency department of the hospital in the nearby town of Carcassonne. The paramedics monitored her, giving her oxygen and another shot of epinephrine when her vital signs deteriorated.

The wailing of the ambulance siren rang inside Mack’s head, ramping up his panic to an unbearable level. What if she didn’t make it? What if there wasn’t a doctor there who knew what to do? She looked so pale and sweaty, almost lifeless. His gut tied itself into hard knots—knots that twisted and turned until his stomach burned with pain. A pain that crept higher, higher, higher until it wrapped an iron band around his heart. How could he lose her? It couldn’t be possible. It must not be possible. He had never felt so powerfulness, so out of control, so bereft at the thought of her not making it. It reminded him of the day his father died, that terrible day he could never quite erase from his memory. The piercing screams of his mother, the ambulance siren wailing up the driveway—a pointless arrival for there was nothing anyone could do by that stage. Mack had watched them wheel his father out on a stretcher. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. The words had been locked in his throat, so he’d swallowed them, shoving them deep inside him, along with his feelings. He had learned that day his feelings were of no use in a crisis. He had to be strong and in control to get everyone else through the worst time of their lives.

This was another one of those times.

They finally got to the hospital and Mack had to step out of the way as they took her inside. He gave what information he could to the admission staff, relieved he spoke fluent French. Doubly relieved when the doctor came out and said Elspeth was going to be fine but they were going to admit her overnight for observation.

‘I want to stay with her,’ he insisted. The words echoed in his head for the next few minutes until he was allowed entry to her room.

I want to stay with her. I want to stay with her. I want to stay with her.

Elspeth came out of her drug-induced stupor to see Mack sitting by her bedside. His features were haggard and his hair looked as if his hands had been through it many times, for it was sticking up every which way. ‘The doctor said you insisted on staying overnight with me but you don’t have to.’

‘I’m not leaving you and that’s final.’ His tone was so strident, even if she’d had the energy to argue with him, she wouldn’t have bothered. But in her weakened state, she was secretly glad he was going to be with her. Having anaphylaxis at any time was terrifying but having it while in a foreign country even more so. She was just grateful Mack had acted so swiftly and not gone into a panic himself as her father used to do.

She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes, exhausted from the drama and fear, her body still recovering from the dose of epinephrine. But also painfully embarrassed at how things had turned out. She should have double-checked the menu but her French wasn’t anywhere near as fluent as Mack’s. There must have been nut contamination in her salad or in the dressing.

‘Mack?’

His hand gave hers a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m here, m’eudail. Try to rest now.’

‘I’m sorry...’

‘It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s it’s mine. I should’ve ordered for you. I didn’t think.’ His tone was ragged around the edges and full of self-recrimination.

Elspeth tried to open her eyes to look at him but overwhelming tiredness got the better of her. She gave a wobbly sigh and drifted off...

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