Witness - [57]

‘Oh, man, I’d love that,’ she said. She could take pictures for Nana; see all the old home places Nana talked about.

‘Good luck, Monday,’ Jeri said as they finished up.

Cheryl froze then recalled her story. ‘Ta. It’ll be cool.’

‘Night, babe.’

‘Night.’

Cheryl opened her eyes and peered at the plus sign and the bold capitals pregnant. Tears stung her eyes. There was always an abortion but she couldn’t imagine that, not for her. She thought of growing big again, and the labour. Telling Nana. Telling Jeri. Something like this wasn’t part of his dreams. Babyfather when they’d barely spent a month together in real time. She had managed fine without Milo’s dad. A boastful boy who had several other kids dotted round the area and who Nana had chased off when he called round feigning an interest in Milo – then three months old. He was in the army now; Cheryl hadn’t seen him for over a year. So maybe she would have to do the same again. No exciting new modelling assignments, no man, no trip to the West Indies. Future postponed.

Cheryl worked out her dates. Only one time had she and Jeri taken a risk. The baby would come in April. A girl perhaps. Dark like her or more light-skinned with Jeri’s fine almond eyes. Alongside the worry and the sadness, Cheryl felt a tickle of joy. A sister for Milo. She put her hand on her belly, imagined it there, small as a jelly bean.

Sunday night, close to dawn, something woke Cheryl. She groaned and rolled on to her back, waiting for Milo to cry out again, but he was quiet. Maybe it was something outside? There were foxes sometimes that screamed and cats that howled like babies.

Cheryl was turning over again when she heard a thump, felt it shudder through the bed, through her. Not the door, but what? Someone in the house, someone breaking in?

She got out of bed and put her bathrobe on. Her heart going wild. They’d found out she was going to be a witness. They were coming for her! Fear scouring through her veins. She stopped at the bedroom door, uncertain whether to wait where she was. She couldn’t just stay here, do nothing. Quietly as she could she opened the door. The landing was dark, the doors shut. She listened, closed her eyes to hear better. Couldn’t make out any sounds that didn’t fit, couldn’t sense any presence. She snapped the landing light on.

She stood, her legs itching from being still, eyes gritty and full of sleep. Still nothing. She looked across to Nana’s door, she didn’t want to disturb her, she had such trouble sleeping now, but what if someone had broken in and was hiding in there?

Torn, Cheryl tiptoed across the landing and listened, her ear to the door. Nothing. Then she knocked gently. ‘Nana?’ Turned the handle and went in, looked across to the bed but the covers were thrown back. Cheryl put on Nana’s light and saw her, on the floor, at the far side of the bed, on her side. Her eyes were fluttering, her skin a horrible yellow shade to it.

‘Nana?’ Cheryl felt her own skin crackle like lightning. She knelt beside her; put her arm on Nana’s shoulder. ‘Are you all right? Nana?’

Nana gave a little whimper, her eyes blinking away, and a bit of drool leaked from the corner of her mouth. Her hands were trembling.

‘Oh, Nana. Wait there!’ Like she could go anywhere else. Dumb.

Cheryl ran to her room and rang 999, asked for an ambulance, her voice all shaky as she gave her name and address. She went back to Nana, knelt beside her, held her hand, and tried to answer all the questions: can you confirm the number you are callingfrom; what’s the address of the emergency; can youtell me what happened; are you with the patient now;can you tell me how old the patient is; do you knowtheir date of birth; is she conscious; is she alert andresponsive; is she breathing?

The operator said an ambulance was on its way. Could she make sure the door was open so they could get in?

Cheryl ran downstairs; she unlocked the front door and left the latch off. Ran back, still on the phone, still answering questions, following instructions: has there been any change; could you pleasegather together any medication the person uses, theparamedics will bring that with them.

Cheryl collected the tablets from Nana’s bedside table and the ones she had downstairs in the top cupboard in the kitchen.

When she got back upstairs Nana’s eyes were closed, and still. Cheryl’s guts turned to ice. ‘Nana?’ She squeezed Nana’s knuckles and stroked her head, the hair soft with the oil that Nana rubbed on it.

‘She’s asleep,’ Cheryl told the operator, hearing the terror in her own voice.

‘Is she still breathing? Listen and put your hand by her mouth.’

Cheryl put her hand close to Nana’s lips; felt a slight, damp stream of air. ‘Yes, I think so.’

‘That’s good; the ambulance will be with you any time now.’

‘Tell them to come upstairs,’ Cheryl said, she couldn’t remember if she’d already said that earlier. Nana was quiet. Cheryl wondered what was wrong. Then there were voices and she felt the temperature fall as the paramedics came in and up the stairs.