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,
‘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,
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