vulnerable.
'Flynnie . . .' I give his arm a little shake. Bend down
and kiss his cheek. He looks strangely flushed and his
skin is hot and sweaty. I straighten up. 'Come on, wake
up!' I exclaim. 'We're all having breakfast and I've got
to leave in half an hour!'
Nothing. I stare down at him. His eyes are tightly
shut, his breathing loud and rasping. A cold hand
creeps up and squeezes my chest. I can hear my heart.
I grab him by the shoulders and shake him, hard.
'Flynn!'
His head rolls limply on the pillow. His eyes do not
open. His breathing stops for a moment and then starts
again, harsh and laboured. I leap away from the bed, a
scream building in my throat. As I stumble back, something
crunches under my feet. Blister packets, empty
blister packets, all over the carpet. I hurl myself out of
the bedroom door.
'Help! Call an ambulance! Help!' I scream at the top
of my voice.
Rami reaches me on the landing. He is trying to
restrain me, trying to pull me round to face him. 'Calm
down, calm down. What's happening?'
'No! No!' I yell. 'He's unconscious! Call an
ambulance!'
Rami grips me by the shoulders. 'Where? Where is
he?'
'In the bedroom – the study!' I scream. 'He's in
there!'
Rami lets go of me and runs along to the room. I
stumble in after him. Suddenly the small room is very
crowded. I can hear the sound of a baby crying.
'Oh God!' a woman's voice is moaning. 'Rami, he's
all right – he's all right, isn't he?'
I am on my hands and knees, scrabbling through my
coat pockets for my mobile phone. My hands are so
clammy that it slips from my grasp.
'Mum, Dad, it's all right, it's under control.' Rami is
trying to roll Flynn over onto his side, grunting with the
effort. 'Sophie – get them downstairs—'
I key in too many nines and have to find the clear
button and try again. Sophie is attempting to get Matias
and Maria out of the room. Maria has gone white.
Matias sounds panicked. 'What's he done? What's he
gone and done?'
'Rami needs space,' Sophie is saying desperately,
ushering them out. 'It's under control, but he needs
some space. Please come downstairs with me – we need
to open the door to the paramedics . . .'
'Emergency services. Which service do you require?'
comes the voice over the phone.
'Ambulance,' I say desperately.
'Just putting you through.'
'Emergency ambulance service. What's your name?'
I stutter in reply.
'Your telephone number?'
I give them the number from my mobile.
'Your address?'
'Eight Rose – uh – Rosewood Drive,' I stumble.
'Angmering, West Sussex.'
Rami has got Flynn into the recovery position and is
kneeling astride him on the bed, taking his pulse and
peering at the back of one of the empty blister packs.
'The ambulance is on its way,' the woman says.
'What's the problem?'
'He's taken an overdose.' My voice sounds weird, as if
I am being shaken. 'There are a lot of empty pill
packets. He's unconscious.'
'Is he breathing?'
'Yes, I – I think so. Rami, is he breathing?'
'Laboured,' Rami grunts.
I repeat this into the phone.
'Is he lying on his back or on his side?'
'He's – he's on his side, Rami's moved him—'
'The ambulance!' Rami shouts. 'Have they sent out
the ambulance?'
'Yes, it's on its way!' I yell back
'And are his airways clear?' the operator asks.
'Yes, I – I think so!'
'Can you read what's on the pill packets? Can you
tell me how many pills are missing and what it says
on the outside of the packets?' the operator continues.
I squat down and scrabble round on the floor, almost
dropping the phone. 'Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five,
forty – I mean thirty – and then there's two more – forty –
and it says fluox— I'll – I'll spell it . . .' My mouth feels as
if it has gone numb. I can hardly get the words out.
'Benzodiazepines,' Rami barks. 'Tell her he's taken a
massive overdose of benzos and ADs.'
I repeat it into the phone. I can feel the sweat
running down my back.
'What dose does it say on the packet?' the
'Flynnie . . .' I give his arm a little shake. Bend down
and kiss his cheek. He looks strangely flushed and his
skin is hot and sweaty. I straighten up. 'Come on, wake
up!' I exclaim. 'We're all having breakfast and I've got
to leave in half an hour!'
Nothing. I stare down at him. His eyes are tightly
shut, his breathing loud and rasping. A cold hand
creeps up and squeezes my chest. I can hear my heart.
I grab him by the shoulders and shake him, hard.
'Flynn!'
His head rolls limply on the pillow. His eyes do not
open. His breathing stops for a moment and then starts
again, harsh and laboured. I leap away from the bed, a
scream building in my throat. As I stumble back, something
crunches under my feet. Blister packets, empty
blister packets, all over the carpet. I hurl myself out of
the bedroom door.
'Help! Call an ambulance! Help!' I scream at the top
of my voice.
Rami reaches me on the landing. He is trying to
restrain me, trying to pull me round to face him. 'Calm
down, calm down. What's happening?'
'No! No!' I yell. 'He's unconscious! Call an
ambulance!'
Rami grips me by the shoulders. 'Where? Where is
he?'
'In the bedroom – the study!' I scream. 'He's in
there!'
Rami lets go of me and runs along to the room. I
stumble in after him. Suddenly the small room is very
crowded. I can hear the sound of a baby crying.
'Oh God!' a woman's voice is moaning. 'Rami, he's
all right – he's all right, isn't he?'
I am on my hands and knees, scrabbling through my
coat pockets for my mobile phone. My hands are so
clammy that it slips from my grasp.
'Mum, Dad, it's all right, it's under control.' Rami is
trying to roll Flynn over onto his side, grunting with the
effort. 'Sophie – get them downstairs—'
I key in too many nines and have to find the clear
button and try again. Sophie is attempting to get Matias
and Maria out of the room. Maria has gone white.
Matias sounds panicked. 'What's he done? What's he
gone and done?'
'Rami needs space,' Sophie is saying desperately,
ushering them out. 'It's under control, but he needs
some space. Please come downstairs with me – we need
to open the door to the paramedics . . .'
'Emergency services. Which service do you require?'
comes the voice over the phone.
'Ambulance,' I say desperately.
'Just putting you through.'
'Emergency ambulance service. What's your name?'
I stutter in reply.
'Your telephone number?'
I give them the number from my mobile.
'Your address?'
'Eight Rose – uh – Rosewood Drive,' I stumble.
'Angmering, West Sussex.'
Rami has got Flynn into the recovery position and is
kneeling astride him on the bed, taking his pulse and
peering at the back of one of the empty blister packs.
'The ambulance is on its way,' the woman says.
'What's the problem?'
'He's taken an overdose.' My voice sounds weird, as if
I am being shaken. 'There are a lot of empty pill
packets. He's unconscious.'
'Is he breathing?'
'Yes, I – I think so. Rami, is he breathing?'
'Laboured,' Rami grunts.
I repeat this into the phone.
'Is he lying on his back or on his side?'
'He's – he's on his side, Rami's moved him—'
'The ambulance!' Rami shouts. 'Have they sent out
the ambulance?'
'Yes, it's on its way!' I yell back
'And are his airways clear?' the operator asks.
'Yes, I – I think so!'
'Can you read what's on the pill packets? Can you
tell me how many pills are missing and what it says
on the outside of the packets?' the operator continues.
I squat down and scrabble round on the floor, almost
dropping the phone. 'Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five,
forty – I mean thirty – and then there's two more – forty –
and it says fluox— I'll – I'll spell it . . .' My mouth feels as
if it has gone numb. I can hardly get the words out.
'Benzodiazepines,' Rami barks. 'Tell her he's taken a
massive overdose of benzos and ADs.'
I repeat it into the phone. I can feel the sweat
running down my back.
'What dose does it say on the packet?' the
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