Page 47 of Lord of the Lock

Still nothing. I crept into the house, turning on the light as I went. Finn followed silently.

“Dad?” I called. Then I heard the groan coming from the direction of the kitchen. I ran into the kitchen, but it was as dark as the rest of the house. The light in the hallway off the kitchen was on, and I could hear running water. “Shit,” I said. I walked down the hallway, not even conscious if Finn was walking behind me or not any more. The shower in the shower room was running and the door was closed. I tried the handle. “Dad, you in there?” I asked.

“Nathan,” I heard him reply, so quietly. But nothing else. I yanked at the door again. It still wouldn’t budge. “Shit, shit, shit!” I pulled at the handle until my knuckles turned white. “Dad, can you reach the door? Have you locked it?”

“Budge over,” Finn whispered to me, using his big paws to move me gently out of the way. “Are you particularly attached to this door?” he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he took a step back and then shoulder-barged it. It moved but didn’t open. “Ow,” said Finn. “Let’s try that again.” He took two steps back and barged at the door. This time it buckled inward, taking some of the door frame with it. Warm steam billowed out of the room and I ran past Finn into there, almost slipping on the tiled floor.

Which it appeared my father had done. He was laying propped up against the wall and just out of the flow of the overhead shower. He was completely naked, and his wheelchair was turned over in the far dry corner of the bathroom. “Oh, Dad…” I muttered. “Finn. Call an ambulance.” I didn’t wait for his response, I knew he’d do it for me.

I shut off the shower and grabbed a towel to preserve my Dad’s dignity. “Dad, you with me?” I asked. His eyes were open, at least. He didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere and both his full leg and his stump were resting on the cold tiles.

“Dad, you here with me?” I asked.

“Slipped and fell,” he muttered. “Was just trying…to do things myself.”

“Was this really the time to figure out independence?” I half joked.

“S’pose not…” he muttered. I checked his pulse, which seemed to be fine.

“Did you hit your head?” I asked.

“No. M’arm hurts though…”

“OK, Dad. I’m going to try and get you into your chair. Do you think you can help me?” He seemed groggy, but if he hadn’t hit his head it was probably exhaustion or hypothermia. I needed him dry and clothed.

“Ambulance in ten minutes,” said Finn.

“Thank God,” I said. I used the towel to dry my Dad off as quickly and with as much dignity as I could. I could see a big bruise forming on his left arm so I was as gentle as I could be. “Finn, can you help me with his shirt?” I asked.

“Who’s this?” Dad muttered as Finn lifted his good arm to get it through his t-shirt sleeve.

“Dad, Finn, Finn, Dad. I’m glad you could meet each other. Now let’s get your pants on. Finn, lift please?”

With more strength than I possessed, Finn lifted my Dad by his underarms so I could shuffle his trousers on under his thighs. “Well done, Dad. You’re doing so well. Now we’re going to help you to your wheelchair, OK? Let us know if anything hurts too much and we’ll stop.”

“Thanks. Nathan. Always a good lad…” Dad muttered.

“Oh God, Finn, he really is delirious.” I grabbed under his bad arm and Finn grabbed under his good one, and with some weight on his single leg Dad managed to help us somewhat in manoeuvring him over to his wheelchair. When we sat him down, he sighed.

“Not delirious,” Dad muttered. “I’ve just been a wanker.”

“That we can agree on, but we can talk about this later. All I care about is you being well,” I said. I wheeled him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. “Do you need water?”

“Please,” he said. I grabbed a plastic cup and filled it up from the sink.

“Here you go, drink.” I supported the cup with one hand in case he dropped it but he held it firm as he drank.

“Coming back to us?” I asked. He shivered but looked up to me with clear eyes.

“Never left,” he said quietly. “Well, that’s a lie. I completely bloody checked out. But I heard my son talking about me being a right wanker a couple of days ago and decided it was time to come back to the real world.”

“You heard all that?” I asked. Dad just nodded.

“Do you want me to leave?” Finn asked.

“No,” both Dad and I said at the same time. The force in Dad’s voice surprised me.

“Stay here,” Dad said. “I need a witness.”

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