Page 46 of The Life We Almost Had

‘Bring him back,’ I screamed, beckoning with both hands, quickly, quickly.

I paced.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Turn.

A tiger in a cage. Coiled. Ready to spring the second they reached shallower water. Ready to shower my husband with love and kisses.

At last they were closer but Adam didn’t stand. Instead he was dragged onto the sand and dropped heavily.

Adam.

I fell to my knees beside him. Shaking him. Wake up. Wake up.

‘He’s not breathing!’ Frantically I scanned the crowd. The horrified expressions. The camera phones. Why wasn’t anyone helping?

‘Please.’ I shook Adam again, crying harder. ‘Someone.’

‘Let me see.’ A woman kneeled opposite me, her fingers scooping the inside of Adam’s mouth, before checking his neck for a pulse.

‘Adam. He’s called Adam.’ It was important that she knew but she didn’t answer. Instead, she breathed into his mouth – the mouth that had kissed me goodbye. She linked her hands and pushed hard on his chest.

How can his heart have given up when it was so full of love for me? For our unborn child.

His face was pale. The sand, once golden, was stained crimson by the blood trickling from a wound on his head.

I waited for him to gasp, the way they do in the movies. For water to spew from his beautiful lips.

It didn’t.

Adam.

Please don’t leave me.

Part Three

‘Giving up isn’t an option.’

JOSH QUIGLEY – ADAM’S BEST FRIEND

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Anna

The smell of hospitals was the same wherever you were in the world. Abrasive and clinical; disinfectant mingled with bleach, sorrow tinged with fear.

Adam hadn’t woken up.

I tightly clutched the itchy grey blanket that had been draped around my shoulders, wishing it were my husband’s hand that I was holding. I half ran to keep up with the trolley as it was wheeled down a corridor, bright with harsh, fluorescent light. Doctors and nurses blocked my view as they poked and prodded him, chattering away in a language I couldn’t understand. They could have been saying Adam had no chance of survival, they could have been discussing last night’s TV, what they’d be eating for dinner. I had no way of knowing.

I had never felt more scared.

‘Where are you taking him?’ I asked again. ‘Why isn’t he waking up?’

---