Page 79 of Wrapped Up at the Vintage Dress Shop
‘I couldn’t tell you – it was a secret,’ Cress said at the exact same time as Anita and Bea chorused, ‘Since forever.’
So much for keeping things on the down-low so Phoebe’s authority wouldn’t be undermined.
‘My personal life is nothing to do with you,’ Phoebe said grandly, which was ruined when she started coughing hard enough to hack up a lung.
‘Right, your little dog is OK. Best to get her checked over by a vet tomorrow, but really if anyone needs checking over, it’s you,’ the paramedic said, lunging at Phoebe with a blood pressure cuff.
‘You know what?’ Anita suddenly grinned. ‘This does answer the question once and for all, that if Phoebe’s house was on fire, what would she save?’
In the end, Phoebe hadn’t even had to think about it. It turned out that she could love after all. She gently scooped up Coco, who was huddled next to her on the stretcher, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, though Coco really didn’t smell that good.
On the other side of her, Freddy was being hooked up to an EKG machine, his face still grey, his hands trembling.
‘You’re going to have to say goodbye to the dog now,’ said the paramedic who had tightened the blood pressure cuff tothe point of maximum pain, although compared to all her other aches, cuts and bruises, it hardly registered.
‘Coco isn’t going anywhere,’ Phoebe spluttered, hugging her even tighter. Coco was limp in her embrace, completely devoid of her usual sass.
‘Your blood pressure is very high.’ Which really wasn’t any wonder given the circumstances. ‘And even if it wasn’t, you both need to go to hospital. No dogs allowed.’
Coco whimpered faintly and Phoebe would have whimpered too except it felt as if someone had taken sandpaper to her throat. ‘I promise I’ll go to hospital tomorrow,’ she managed to say though talking really hurt.
‘No, Pheebs, you go to hospital and I’ll stay with Coco,’ Freddy insisted, but then he went even greyer and lurched forward as his paramedic shoved a kidney bowl at him just in time.
‘Oh Freddy, your poor thing, you’re not going anywhere,’ Phoebe croaked. ‘You’re the one who should go to hospital.’
‘Both of you are going to hospital,’ Cress said very sternly. ‘I’ll take Coco.’
‘But . . .’
‘But nothing, Phoebe!’ Sophy added just as fiercely. ‘Coco spends half the day hanging out with Cress so it’s not like she’ll be with strangers.’
Phoebe’s paramedic was already lifting Coco up to place her in Cress’s outstretched arms. It felt like Phoebe’s heart was being removed from her chest. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration but Coco needed her and she really, really needed Coco.
Coco cuddled into Cress’s chest. ‘She’ll be fine, Pheebs, I promise,’ Cress said, trying not to wrinkle her nose as her nasal passages met the stench of wet dog and fetid canal water. ‘But can I give her a bath?’
‘You have to test the water with your elbow and she likes to be dried by a hair dryer on the lowest setting and there’s an emergency vet open all night in Belsize Park and . . .’
‘We’ll call you to let you know how she is,’ Sophy said very firmly, as Phoebe’s paramedic climbed out of the ambulance. ‘But she will be fine.’
‘She’d prob . . .’
The doors shut so Phoebe couldn’t explain that when Coco was feeling poorly, she was very partial to some chicken noodle soup.
‘Let’s get you both strapped in,’ said Freddy’s paramedic. ‘We’ll have you at A&E in no time at all.’
It was a quick ride to the Royal Free, Phoebe and Freddy clammy hand in clammy hand. Though every time they went over a speed bump, Phoebe moaned as it jolted her ribs and Freddy groaned like he was going to throw up again.
As soon as they reached the hospital, Freddy was led out of the ambulance then Phoebe was wheeled out on the stretcher and whisked straight into triage, then resus and a curtained-off cubicle. There she was poked and prodded, ultra-sounded and got told off every time she tried to explain what had happened or asked where Freddy was because ‘you need to rest your throat’.
Phoebe was diagnosed with three broken ribs, which would take time and rest to heal. The cuts on her stomach and her feet were cleaned and dressed. The cuts on her hand and wrist were stitched up. Then to counteract the effects of the smoke inhalation, she was put on oxygen administered via a nasal tube.
It was there that Freddy found her. Phoebe had been instructed to sit propped up but she tried to get off the bed when he poked his head around the curtain.
‘No! Stay where you are,’ he said in a hoarse voice. ‘I’m fine. I’ll grab a chair.’
He returned with a plastic chair and sat close enough to Phoebe that she could take his hand and entwine her fingers through his.
‘You’re not fine,’ she said, though by now her voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. ‘You don’t look fine.’
