‘I hate these jobs,’ said Donna, checking briskly through her pack of plastic-wrapped medical supplies as we watched. ‘Give me a woman in labour or a nice old granny with cardiomyopathy any day. Oh, flipping heck, he’s off.’
Sam was tilting the young lad’s face to examine it when another boy, his hair thick with gel and the collar of his shirt soaked in blood, grabbed at his shoulder. ‘Oi! I need to go in the ambulance!’
Sam turned slowly towards the young drunk, who was spraying blood and saliva as he spoke. ‘Back away now, mate. All right? Let me do my job.’
Drink had made the boy stupid. He glanced at his mates, and then he was in Sam’s face, snarling, ‘Don’t you tell me to back away.’
Sam ignored him, and continued attending to the other boy’s face.
‘Hey! Hey you! I need to get to the hospital.’ He pushed Sam’s shoulder. ‘Hey!’
Sam stayed crouched for a moment, very still. Then he straightened slowly, and turned, so that he was nose to nose with the drunk. ‘I’ll explain something in terms you might be able to understand, son. You’re not getting in the truck, okay? That’s it. So save your energy, go finish your night with your mates, put a bit of ice on it, and see your GP in the morning.’
‘You don’t get to tell me nothing. I pay your wages. My effing nose is broke.’
As Sam gazed steadily back at him, the boy swung out a hand and pushed at Sam’s chest. Sam looked down at it.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Donna, beside me.
Sam’s voice, when it emerged, was a growl: ‘Okay. I’m warning you now –’
‘You don’t warn me!’ The boy’s face was scornful. ‘You don’t warn me! Who do you think you are?’
Donna was out of the truck and jogging towards a cop. She murmured something in his ear and I saw them both look over. Donna’s face was pleading. The boy was still yelling and swearing, now pushing at Sam’s chest. ‘So you sort me out before you deal with that wanker.’
Sam adjusted his collar. His face had become dangerously still.
And just as I realized I was holding my breath, the policeman was there, between them. Donna’s hand was on Sam’s sleeve and she was steering him back to the young lad on the kerb. The policeman muttered something into his radio, his hand on the drunk’s shoulder. The boy swung round and spat on Sam’s jacket. ‘Fuck you.’
There was a brief, shocked silence. Sam stiffened.
‘Sam! Come on, give me a hand, yes? I need you.’ Donna propelled him forwards. When I caught sight of Sam’s face, his eyes glittered as cold and hard as diamonds.
‘Come on,’ said Donna, as they loaded the semi-comatose lad into the back of the truck. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
He drove silently, Lily and I wedged into the front seat beside him. Donna cleaned the back of his jacket as he stared ahead, stubbly jaw jutting.
‘Could be worse,’ Donna said cheerfully. ‘I had one throw up in my hair last month. And the little monster did it on purpose. Shoved his fingers down the back of his throat and ran up behind me, just because I wouldn’t take him home, like I was some kind of bloody minicab.’
She stood up and motioned for the energy drink she kept in the front. ‘It’s a waste of resources. When you think what we could be doing, instead of scooping up a load of little …’ She took a swig, then looked down at the barely conscious young boy. ‘I don’t know. You have to wonder what goes on in their heads.’
‘Not much,’ said Sam.
‘Yeah. Well, we have to keep this one on a tight leash.’ Donna patted Sam’s shoulder. ‘He got a caution last year.’
Sam glanced sideways at me, suddenly sheepish. ‘We went to pick up a girl from the top of Commercial Street. Face smashed to a pulp. Domestic. As I went to lift her onto the gurney, her boyfriend came flying out of the pub and went for her again. Couldn’t help myself.’
‘You took a swing at him?’
‘More than one,’ Donna scoffed.
‘Yeah. Well. It wasn’t a good time.’
Donna shifted to grimace at me. ‘Well, this one can’t afford to get in trouble again. Or he’s out of the service.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, as he let us out. ‘For the lift, I mean.’
‘Couldn’t leave you in that open-air asylum,’ he said.
His eyes briefly met mine. Then Donna shut the door and they were gone, heading for the hospital with their battered human cargo.
‘You totally fancy him,’ said Lily, as we watched the ambulance disappear.
I had forgotten she was even there. I sighed as I reached into my pockets for the keys. ‘He’s a shagger.’
‘So? I would totally shag that,’ Lily said, as I opened the door to let her in. ‘I mean, if I was old. And a bit desperate. Like you.’
‘I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, Lily.’
She was walking behind me, so there was no way I could actually prove it, but I swear I could feel her pulling faces at me the whole way up the stairs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I wrote to Mrs Traynor. I didn’t tell her about Lily, just that I hoped she was well, that I was back from my travels and would be in her area in a few weeks with a friend, and would like to say hello if possible. I sent it first class, and felt oddly excited as it plopped into the post-box.