those sirens? More help will be with us soon.’
The sirens were much louder now, and Sydney knew she was breathing faster. Hearing them get closer and closer just reminded her of that morning when she’d had to call an ambulance for Olivia. Wishing they’d get to her faster. Feeling that they were taking for ever. Praying that they would help her daughter. She could see the same look in Paul’s eyes now. The distress. The fear.
But this was an occasion where she actually had her wits about her and could do something.
‘I need to go and help Nathan.’
She ran back across the road. The car’s radiator or something must have burst, because she could hear hissing and see steam rising up through the bonnet of the vehicle. She ducked into the open door.
Nathan was in the back seat, his hands clutching Helen’s head, keeping it upright and still. His face was twisted, as if he was in pain.
‘Is she breathing still?’ he managed to ask her.
Is she breathing? Sydney wasn’t sure she wanted to check—her own shock at what had happened was starting to take effect. What if Helen wasn’t breathing? What if Helen’s heart had stopped?
‘I—’
‘Watch her chest. Is there rise and fall?’
She checked. There was movement. ‘Yes, there is!’
‘Count how many breaths she takes in ten seconds.’
She looked back, counting. ‘Two.’
‘Okay. That’s good.’
She saw Nathan wince. Perhaps he had cramp, or something? There was some broken glass in the car. Perhaps he’d knelt on it? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as vehicles flashing red and blue lights appeared. An ambulance. A fire engine, and further behind them she could see a police car.
Thank you!
Sydney got out of the car and waved them down, feeling relief flood her.
A paramedic jumped out of the ambulance and came over to her, pulling on some purple gloves. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
She gave a brief rundown of the incident, and pointed out Paul and baby Brandon, then filled him in on the woman in the car.
‘Okay, let’s see to her first.’ The paramedic called out to his partner to look after the driver and his son whilst he checked out Helen, still in the car with Nathan.
Sydney ran back over to Paul. ‘Help’s here! It’s okay. We’re okay.’ She beamed, glad that the onus of responsibility was now being shouldered by lots of other people rather than just her and Nathan.
As she stood back and watched the rescue operation she realised there were tears on her face. She wiped them away with a sleeve, aware of how frightened she’d been, and waited for Nathan to join her, shivering. She wanted to be held. To feel safe. She wanted to be comforted.
The morning she’d found Olivia she’d been on her own. Alastair had already left for work. So there’d been no one to hold her and let her know it was okay. She’d needed arms around her then and she needed them now. But Alastair had never held her again.
If she asked him, Nathan would hold her for a moment. She just knew it. Sensed it. What they’d just experienced had been traumatic. But she remained silent, clutching her coat to her. She just stood and watched the emergency services get everything sorted.
And waited.
Nathan was needed by the paramedics, and then by the police, and by the time he was free she was not. The horse needed her—needed checking over.
She told herself a hug wasn’t important and focused on the practical.
Paul and Brandon had been taken to hospital in one ambulance; Helen had been extricated and taken away in another, finally conscious. The horsebox had been righted and the horse had been led out to be checked by Sydney. It had some knocks and scrapes to its legs, mostly around its fetlocks—which, in humans, was comparable to injuries to an ankle joint—but apart from that it just seemed startled more than anything.
They’d all been very lucky, and Sydney now stood, calming the horse, whilst they waited for an animal transporter to arrive.
Nathan stood watching her. ‘That horse really feels safe with you.’
She smiled. ‘Makes a change. Normally horses see me coming with my vet bag and start playing up. It’s nice to be able to comfort one and calm it down.’
‘You’re doing brilliantly.’
She looked at him. He looked a little worn out. Wearied. As if attending to the patients in the crash had physically exhausted him. Perhaps he’d had a really long day. Just like being a vet, being a doctor had to be stressful at times. Seeing endless streams of people, each with their own problems. Having to break bad news. She knew how stressful it was for her to have to tell a customer that their beloved pet was dying, or had to be put to sleep. And when she did euthanise a beloved pet she often found herself shedding silent tears along with the owner. She couldn’t help it.
Perhaps it was the same for Nathan. Did seeing people in distress upset him? Wear him out?
‘You did brilliantly. Knowing what to do…who to treat. How to look after Helen. I wouldn’t have thought to do that.’ She stroked the horse’s muzzle.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘But it is. You probably saved her life, keeping her airway open like that. She could have died.’
‘At least they’re in safe hands now.’
She looked at him and met his gaze. ‘They were already in safe hands.’
She needed to let him know that what he’d done today had mattered. Paul still had a wife. Brandon still had a mother. Because of him. A while ago she’d almost lost her faith in doctors. She’d depended on them to save Olivia, and when they’d told her there was nothing they could do…
At first she hadn’t wanted to believe them. Had raged at them. Demanded they do something! When they hadn’t she had collapsed in a heap, hating them—and everyone—with a passion she had never known was inside her. Today, Nathan had proved to her that doctors did help.
‘How do you think the horse is doing?’
Sydney could feel the animal was calmer. It had stopped stamping its hooves and snorting as they’d stood there on the side of the road, watching the clean-up operation. It had stopped tossing its head. Its breathing had become steadier.
‘She’s doing great.’
‘Paul and Helen aren’t the only ones in safe hands.’ He smiled and sat down on the bank beside her, letting out a breath and rolling his shoulders.
She stared at him for a moment, shocked to realise that she wanted to sit next to him, maybe to massage his shoulders or just lean her head against his shoulder. She wanted that physical contact.
Feeling that yearning to touch him surprised her and she turned away from him, focussing on the horse. She shouldn’t be feeling that for him. What was the point? It was best to focus on the horse. She knew what she was doing there.
It didn’t take long for the accident to be cleared. The police took pictures, measured the road, measured the skid marks and collected debris. The car was pulled from the ditch and lifted onto a lorry to be taken away, and just as Sydney was beginning to doubt that a new horsebox would ever arrive a truck came ambling around the corner and they loaded the mare onto it to take her back to her stable.
Sydney gave the truck driver her details and told her to let Paul know that she’d be happy to come out and check on the horse, and that he was to give her a call if she was