The most important thing
The temperature rose wildly in Emily. The old glass thermometer strayed beyond 40almost 105 Fahrenheitand then, like a stage dove twisting mid-air, her small body arched so violently that Alice froze for a heartbeat, unable to believe what she saw. Then, trembling, she lunged to her daughter, waves of dread running down her spine.
Emilys lips frothed, choked with white foam, her breath catching and broken as if someone invisible squeezed her chest tight from within.
Alice fumbled, terrified, to open her daughters mouth. Her fingers were useless, clumsy things, but she managed it, afraid the tongue would block the air. Then, like a puppet with strings cut, Emily slackened and fell into an unreachable place. Five minutes, maybe ten, but the worlds clocks had lost all cogs; now, every second reverberated at Alices temples, pulsing like cannon shots.
She held Emilys head when the fits grew worse, more wild than an electric shock, and there was nothing in her vision but her daughters flickering breath. All that mattered wasEmily must breathe again. Emily must return.
Alice screamedto the kitchen, to the wallpaper, to the yawning ceiling, even to the quiet sky. She screamed her daughters name down the emergency services line999!her voice strangled, fighting to will Emilys heart back to life.
Shaking, she managed to call David. Sobbing and hiccupping, the only words she could squeeze out were:
Emily Emily nearly died
But on the other end, David heard something else entirelyone brief, shattering word: died.
A cramp of pure agony scorched his chest, as though a poker had stabbed him straight through the heart. His legs gave way, and he slid soundlessly from the high-backed armchair to the carpeted floor, a man drained of allstrength, hope, tomorrows…
Hands tried to lift him, a shoulder pressed to his, glass of water shoved through trembling hands. Someone patted his back, speaking softly, but every word shattered like spray against a sea wall of his despair.
David could not pull himself back together. His fingers quaked uncontrollably, the glass shivered against his teeth, and only scraps and fragments, half-broken moans, escaped his throat:
E-Em ilydiedEm-ee-leeddied
His lips blanched, breath rough and ragged, arms shaking as if they belonged to someone lost and distant.
Mr. Richard, the manager, wasted no timehe grabbed David under the arms and half-dragged him out to his enormous Land Rover. The door slammed with such ferocity that inside all things rattled.
Where? Where do we go?! bellowed Richard to Davids face, desperate to break the spell.
David sat transfixed, eyes wide, peering into a space between nightmare and world, too stunned even to blink. For a moment, it seemed hed never return. Then, finally, he rasped, as if each syllable shredded his throat and ripped through dread:
Childrens city hospital
The hospital lay far awayfar too distant for a man whod just heard the vilest word of his existence.
Richard floored the accelerator, weaving between lanes with a violence that left traffic lights bleeding into one another. Red, greenit truly didnt matter.
Once, at a busy crossing, a glossy black Range Rover loomed beside them, as if manifesting straight out of the air itself.
For a breath, mere inches separated them from disaster. Richard spun the wheel, the car slewing sideways, tyres shrieking, sparks sprayed from the brakes. The other vehicle screamed past in a haze of burning rubber, an aftertaste of death hanging, close enough to touch.
David noticed nothing.
He hunched, weeping in silence, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to avoid shattering aloud.
Thenflash! A memory snapped open, the old reel flickering to life.
Emily, three years old, sick with tonsillitis so fiercely the thermometer edge iced the grown-ups spines. Paramedics giving jabs, recommending suppositories.
Little Emily, in her rabbits-and-clouds pyjamas, hot and sticky from tears. Alice spent half an hour arguing gently, while Emily sobbed and rubbed red fists into her eyes, finally giving in:
All right, all right just dont light it, please!
David nearly fell out of the room laughing. Only days ago, theyd visited the church, and she rememberedyou lit candles there.
Richard veered onto a slick, lamp-lit avenue, the dusk glowing sharp and cold as a scalpel.
The next image: a fortnight later, Emily, climbing their great old wardrobe like a monkeynimble, wayward. She clambered bravely near the ceiling, shrieking from her perch. Then: the wardrobe groaned and leaned, gravity dragging it down, terrible, slow. Thump. Heavy wood slammed to the floor. Alice yelled; David leapt forward but too latethe room split with the crash.
Emily survivedbruised, scared, great rolling tears, and a gigantic bar of chocolate to hush the storms in her.
Seeing the chocolate, Emily pausedlike a switch had been flicked inside. She stopped sobbing, wiped her nose on her sleeve and inquired:
Can I have two at once?
Chocolate was her panic button for happiness.
David once thought, if hospitals gave out chocolates, humanity would surely invent immortality.
And then
Evening; soft lamplight in the home, silence buzzing. Alice said,
Tomorrow well go to church. Light a candle for health.
And Emily, grave as a judge, asked:
Up your bum?..
Alice hid her face in her hands, while Emily peered between them as if to say, Will you ever stop giggling and just tell me whats going on?
Now, in the speeding car, that silly phrase cut right through Davids chest. It was precisely in her awkward mischief that life itself blossomed.
Her life.
Richard eventually got David to the hospital. They screeched to the kerb, the car quivering as if it couldnt bear to idle a second.
Emilys alive, was the first thing David heard They took her straight to intensive care. Nothing more from the doctors for hours.
Alice was allowed to see her. Nothing left for David but waiting and prayers…
——-
It was one in the morningthe hour when the world hushes, stretched into infinity, lonely and vast. David lifted his head and searched for the second-floor window where his daughter still fought for her life.
In that window, framed like a scene from a horror film, was Alice. She stood perfectly still, arms flat at her sides, eyes fixed through the glass straight at him. She did not wave, did not call or even reach for her phone.
He waved frantically, as if that gesture alone could banish their relentless fear. He phoned hershe didnt answer. Just stood, a pale wraith of love scared to blink, lest she fade away if she moved at all.
Suddenly his mobile rang. Short. Sharp.
One phrase:
Come in.
The call ended at once.
Ice-crush terror choked him, the air thick and glutinous as treacle. He tried to stand, but his feet betrayed him. The tiles, the ground, pressed up as though to clutch him, refusing passage, holding him from hearing what he dreaded most.
He knew he must go, but the fear rooted him in stone.
Then a nurse appeared at the dooryoung, exhausted, her NHS crocs battered soft gray. She walked right to him.
He looked up and knew, inside, that everything had ended.
Finished. Done. Surely she would speak the words.
She leaned down, voiced gentlyclear and firm, like a verdict, only dazzling:
Shell live. The crisis has passed…
The world staggered.
His lips quivered, his mouth unstrung, like it belonged to someone else. He sat, struggling to form even the shadow of a thank you, even God, even a breath. But only the edges of his mouth moved, his hands trembled, and his face flooded with real, scalding, triumphant tears.
—–
After that night, most things lost importance for David.
He no longer feared losing his job. No longer cared to seem foolish, awkward or adrift.
The one thing left to truly anchor him was the memory of that nighthow life could break apart in an instant, how easily the person for whom you would tear down mountains could disappear…
Everything else became weightless.
It was as though a razor-thin fault line of fear had split the world into Before and After.
All lesser anxieties softened and faded, like pointless noise before the arrival of true, deep silence.
