This is a Love Story (11 page)

‘Erm, flat 10, Orchard Court, Great Westfield Road, London.’ Yes, that was it. I was being vaguely useful now.

‘What is the emergency?’ came the cold, calm voice at the other end of the line.

‘Look, I don’t fucking know. I’m with a man, he’s collapsed, I can’t feel a pulse, I think he’s dead. Just come NOW, please!’ I shouted, a little hysterical by that point.

They told me later they had achieved a six-minute response time. Those next six minutes felt like an age. I sat next to George in the puddle of tea, holding his hands and weeping like a hysterical child. He didn’t move an inch the whole time. I was already wondering how I was going to tell Sienna. What if they thought I’d done something to him to cause this? Panic pulsed through my veins as I imagined myself behind bars.

I was so glad when they turned up, flashes of fluorescent yellow and green and those sturdy, black laced-up boots. Bright red kitbags and the sound of Velcro ripping through the air reassured me that everything might just be OK.

One of the paramedics pulled me away from George and sat me down. I felt like a small boy. I watched in silence while they worked away at him, feeling as though I was having an out-of-body experience. ‘He’s alive, mate,’ one of them said, turning towards me with a wide grin on his face. He obviously thought I was a dick.

Then the same paramedic kneeled down beside me, his bald head shining under the strip lamp. ‘Are you running around after Sienna now, then?’ he said, looking at me with a half smile. ‘I hope you didn’t say anything embarrassing – he’ll have heard everything you said,’ he added, the smile spreading out even wider now.

I said nothing.

‘She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?’ he concluded, rolling up a green mat and securing it with a black band.

God, this bloke knows Sienna – he’s talking about her and George like he knows all about their lives, and I’m still in the dark. What happened back there? I wanted to ask but this bloke was getting on my wick. I shook my head, still unable to speak.

‘Chill out, he’s going to be just fine, mate,’ said the paramedic, slapping me on the back. Ouch.

I remained silent, just trying to take it all in. I felt anger rising in me again. Why hadn’t she told me what the hell this was about? Did her boyfriend know and keep this from me? Did everyone know but me? Why hadn’t she trusted me with this?

The paramedics knew George by name; they had obviously done this before. Many times, maybe.

I had a flashback; a cold, horrible flashback.
I love Sienna, she loves you, and she needs you . . . I love your daughter. Terribly.
Yes, that was definitely what I’d said, wasn’t it? I’d told him I loved her. Oh dear God. This was so embarrassing.

I imagined how silly I’d sounded when it was all happening. How my raspy voice had made these foolish love declarations while the tears of a frightened little boy gushed down my face.

I’d thought we were so close and yet I didn’t know anything. Even now. Bollocks.

Sienna

Bread. Milk. Jam.

I’d only popped out to get a few bits from the shop and I came back to utter chaos. I knew it was bad the second I walked round the corner because there was an ambulance outside our block of flats, blue lights flashing. From this point, although I couldn’t be sure they were here for my dad, I had a feeling in my gut which told me they probably were. They normally were.

A few people had gathered on the grass outside the block, pointing up at our flat. They always did this. Village idiots . . . I recognised most of them. It was always the same people.

Jack wasn’t there, though. Jack is our neighbour, a man in his early sixties who has helped me out a few times when Dad has fallen and I’ve struggled to get him up again. When I say helped, helped grudgingly is the best way of putting it. I’ve had to knock on his door at crazy times of night with no warning. I don’t think it’s gone down very well, but he’s the only person who’s ever really any use in these situations.

To our left is a frail old lady. I can’t ask her for help, so it’s Jack by default. I don’t think he liked that at first. No one wants to be Jack by default, but I think he understands how hard it is for me now. He even brings food round if I’m away for the weekend, tubs of bolognese and risotto. Despite his initial reaction I’ve never really been embarrassed, because the most important thing at the time is making sure my dad is safe.

My pulse started to race. This was not an unusual occurrence, but it never got any easier. I always feared that his next fall would be his last. There was only so much padding we could put up around the house.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I made it through the door. Because there, sitting on the floor, was Nick. His face was puffy-looking, and he had clearly been crying. There was murky brown liquid everywhere. He was staring straight ahead, and patches of his hair were wet. He looked traumatised.

My dad was being lifted onto the sofa by two burly paramedics. He looked exhausted.

I didn’t know who to deal with first.

‘I’m OK, love,’ my father called quietly, waving his arms towards Nick. ‘Nick came round to see you. I passed out while I was making us tea. He did a great job though, Si,’ he added weakly.

This was a disaster. I had managed to keep this from Nick for so long. I really didn’t want him to know about it. Anger rose in my chest. OK, I had been going to tell him one day, I really had, but I’d wanted him to get to know me for who I really was before any of these complications came into play.

Suddenly I felt my anger transform into rage. Why was he here? Why had he been trying to catch me out? And on top of everything, the look of sadness on Dad’s face clearly showed that he was disappointed in me for not telling one of my best friends about him.

It was a mess. I went and sat next to Dad, holding his hands in mine and trying to be calm, even though I wanted to shout at Nick. ‘No cuts this time, eh?’ I leaned forward, inspecting his head. ‘What did I tell you about wearing your helmet, though?’ I nagged. ‘You obviously didn’t have it on.’

Nick continued staring into the abyss. He looked pissed off.

‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ I leaned down and kissed my dad’s head gently. I knew he would be OK. It was a routine fall. We were quite used to all of this.

What I wasn’t used to, though, was being caught out like this. It was my business. I was fiercely protective of my business. I touched Nick’s arm and he gripped his hand into a fist. I could feel his muscles contract under his skin. He flushed a deep red; he looked furious. Well, I was too.

I pulled him towards me to lead him into my room so we could be alone. At first he resisted, but I pulled once more, a little harder this time, and this time he followed.

‘What on earth is wrong with your dad? Why didn’t you tell me about this, Sienna?’ he whispered aggressively as soon as the door was shut, tears welling up in his eyes.

Goosebumps appeared all over my body, and I realised he was gripping my right arm tightly. I yanked it away. ‘You’re hurting me, Nick. Get your hands off me,’ I growled, shoving my index finger into his chest.

I had never seen him cry before. In fact, I hadn’t really seen any man cry before, apart from my dad just a couple of times and that was under what seemed like exceptional circumstances. Why was he crying? He wasn’t the victim here. He had no right to cry. The fire inside me spread and I could hold it in no longer.

‘What the
hell
did you think you were doing?’ I said as my breath started to quicken in my chest. I could feel the panic rising. Anger I didn’t know I was capable of spread like wildfire.

He looked at me like I was someone he’d never met before, his eyes as wide as satellite dishes. ‘What do you mean? I just popped round to say hi. What’s wrong with your dad?’ he repeated, his voice getting louder.

‘So you get the impression that there’s something going on here, because life’s a little complicated for me sometimes, and then you just come round without telling me? What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’ I hissed, suddenly aware of how defensive I was being.

He flinched and stepped backwards again, almost knocking over my bedside table. My accusatory finger was trembling.

‘Sienna, you have no idea what I’ve just been through . . . I thought he had—’

But I interrupted him again. ‘What
you’ve
been through? You’ve got to be kidding.
I
go through this, Nick, every day – not you. I’m the one who has to wash him, cook for him, clean. Don’t tell me about what
you’ve
just been through, OK?’ I was pacing across the small floor space now.

Nick crossed his arms defensively, but I continued, shaking even more now. ‘Dad has narcolepsy, all right? And before you start asking lots of annoying questions, it’s a neurological disorder, which makes him fall asleep pretty much all the time. He also has cataplexy, which means that his episodes are triggered by emotions – happy, sad, you name it, and he’s gone. Passed out. It’s exhausting. You have no fucking idea, so how dare
you
cry!’ The words coming out of my mouth were ugly and distorted now. I could feel shame starting to kick in, but it was too late.

‘Jesus, Si. I didn’t even know, for fuck’s sake! You told me, if you actually remember, that you would be indoors today, watching films.
Remember?
I thought you would be here. I wasn’t trying to catch you out!’

Suddenly a look of hurt overtook his anger and I felt a stab of guilt. Of course. That
was
what I’d told him. I flushed, but I was too far into my argument now to become the bad guy. There was no room for a U-turn now.

‘And what was the paramedic talking about when he said your dad could hear everything?’ he added, his voice a lot calmer now. He looked panicked.

I took a deep breath and tried to stop my arms shaking by drawing in a fresh gulp of oxygen. ‘He passes out, but not in the normal way. He can hear everything that’s going on and he remembers it all, basically. He just can’t move his body. It’s kind of hard to explain,’ I responded, hating that I had to go over the details all the time for everyone. All the stupid questions. All the misplaced curiosity. I just wanted him to be away from me, and I knew I would have to be spiteful to achieve this.

‘You’re just like everybody else, Nick. Nosy. Sod off, get out of my house.’ Tears began to run down my face. The truth was, I was embarrassed now. I felt like a bitter, poisonous bitch.

He rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I stood still as a rock, afraid to fall into him, because I could feel the tidal wave of emotion I’d held back for a decade building to a peak. I was scared of what might happen if I let it crash to the shore.

‘Come here, please, Si. Just come here,’ he whispered quietly in my ear, the bristle of his stubble scratching gently against my cheek. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. His gorgeousness still hadn’t faded. I still felt so in awe of him that his proximity terrified me. It made my chest tight and my adrenaline pump so hard I feared I would pass out. I started to cry. I tried to stop it but I couldn’t.

‘You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Why did you shut me out?’ he asked.

It felt like years of tension coming to the surface, tension I never really knew existed. Eventually I gave in, and he pulled me into his neck. Still angry, I thumped a fist against his chest. I felt him swallow, hard.

‘It’s been so hard, Nick. You literally have no idea. I hate the way people treat me when they know. I never wanted you to look at me with pity. I didn’t want you to know. I wish you’d never come here!’ I hacked out the words between deep, overwhelming sobs. There were mascara smudges all over his neck.

‘Si,’ he said, holding my face with both hands and pulling it close to his. I hated this, hated the nakedness of this moment. There was nothing I could do to hide from him, the way I had hidden from so many others.

‘Sienna, please don’t ever keep things like this from me. You are literally the best friend I’ve ever had. I want to help you,’ he continued, one hand now running through my hair. I brushed it away and pulled my hair to the other side so he couldn’t touch it. I tried to look away; eye contact would mean the end of my guard and I was still angry.

‘Look at me,’
he whispered.

I turned my eyes to his, which were red from all the upset. His pupils were small.

‘Sienna. I have to tell you something. I, I . . .’

We were interrupted by one of the paramedics, who had decided to barge in without knocking. ‘Well, we’re all done here, guys. Just keep an eye on him for the rest of the day, OK? He’ll probably sleep for a while now. We had to deal with some slight burns on his leg, but they should heal in no time.’ He tilted his head and gave me that look of pity I knew so well.

‘Thanks so much – you’ve been fantastic, as always,’ I replied, wiping my eyes and stepping forward to start seeing them out.

‘No, don’t you worry about saying goodbye, love. Enjoy the rest of your weekend,’ he muttered, belatedly realising that maybe he had interrupted something rather important.

Suddenly, the room was quiet. I turned to Nick. ‘Leave, please,’ I said, trying not to shout. Words were still coming out of my mouth that my brain didn’t really agree with. I was just so humiliated. I wanted him to be far away.

‘But Sienna, come on,’ he said, his hands reaching towards me.

‘Don’t make me shout, Nick. Go,’ I repeated, turning away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed.

I heard the door click shut. I felt hollow inside. I wondered if we would ever be that close again. I wanted to run after him and beg him to stay, but I kept my mouth shut and my body still. Maybe it was just one of those moments when people come together like magnets, drawn into each other’s arms by heightened emotions, but it never happens again. It slowly dawned on me that I had been pretty damn nasty. That maybe we would never recover from this.

After five minutes of silence I walked out into the living room and stood in front of my father, trying to take in the enormity of what had just happened.