Sarah's Gift

She laughed and splashed him. ‘Idiot.’

He grinned, unabashed by her put-down, and settled beside her, legs outstretched, scanning the water and checking Emily. They chatted idly, his eyes never leaving Emily, and Sarah thought what a good and devoted father he was.

They were interrupted by a disembodied voice, calling for everyone’s attention and warning them that the wave machine was going to be switched on. ‘Everybody behind the steps, please. All non-swimmers stay behind the islands.’

‘Will Emily be all right?’ Sarah asked worriedly. ‘Shouldn’t she be back here?’

‘She’s fine. She loves wave machines. Come on in.’ He stood up and held out a hand to her, but she scooted further up the beach and shook her head.

‘No, I’ll stay here. You go to Emily.’

He hesitated, then nodded and turned, wading out towards his daughter. He reached her just as Sarah felt a pull on the water around her legs, a current, like an undertow—

She scrambled to her feet and went and sat on a low wall overlooking the pool, fighting the waves of panic that threatened to swamp her. Was that what it had been like, to feel the suck of the water, dragging you down?

Her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her sides, and a shudder ran through her. She was rocking, she realised, and a woman paused beside her and studied her anxiously. ‘Are you all right, my love?’ she asked gently.

Sarah forced a smile and made herself sit still. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit cold, but I hate the waves.’

‘Me, too. Here, borrow this towel for a moment. My kids won’t mind.’

She wrapped a soft, warm towel round Sarah’s shoulders and sat beside her, chattering inconsequentially. Gradually the shudders died away, and the sound of the laughing, happy children penetrated the fog of panic surrounding her.

She looked up and saw Matt and Emily, surfing up the beach. As they turned to go back towards the deep end, a boy ran along the side of the pool and slipped.

He landed flat on his back, his head hit the edge with a sickening thud and he slid over the side into the deepest part of the water—right by the gaping maw of the wave machine. Matt must have seen because he turned and disappeared beneath the water, heading for the spot where the boy had slipped under.

‘No!’ She leapt to her feet, dropping the towel, and ran down the side as the lifeguard blew a whistle. She could see Matt being sucked down after the boy, reaching for him, grabbing him, both of them pulled against the mesh guard over the wave machine, Panic clawed at her again, choking her, and hot tears stung her eyes. ‘Help them!’ Sarah screamed. ‘Get them out!’

‘Everybody clear the pool,’ a voice said over the loudspeakers, and a lifeguard dived in beside Matt and helped him bring the boy to the surface.

The wave machine must have been switched off, she realised dimly as Matt and the lifeguard swam up to the beach and carefully slid the boy up onto the tiles.

Matt was looking around, searching for someone, and caught her eye. ‘Sarah, come here. I need your help.’

She stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move as relief washed over her. He was alive. He hadn’t drowned—

‘Sarah!’

His voice galvanised her, and she crossed quickly to him, pushing through the crowd that was now forming.

‘I’ve got a first-aid certificate,’ someone was saying.

‘It’s all right, he’s a doctor,’ she said absently, and knelt down on the other side of the boy, facing Matt. ‘He hit his head.’

‘I know. It’s starting to bleed, but I want to check his spine. I think he winded himself, so hopefully there isn’t any water in his lungs—the wave machine would have sucked it out anyway. Check his airway.’

She did, by lifting his jaw without touching his neck, functioning on autopilot.

‘Airway’s fine, but he’s not breathing.’ She bent over and closed her mouth over the boy’s nose and mouth, breathing firmly into him. His lungs seemed to resist the inflation and she wondered how badly he’d winded himself. Sometimes if the air was knocked right out of the lungs they found it almost impossible to inflate again.

‘Any joy?’ he asked her.

‘Maybe. His pulse is strong.’

‘Daddy? Matt?’

‘It’s OK, sweetheart—just sit down and wait for me, darling, there’s a good girl. He’s going to be all right.’ His hand continued to slide down the boy’s spine, feeling each vertebra for any possible abnormality.

‘Seems OK—it was a pretty flat landing but I want to be sure.’ He turned to the lifeguard who was trying to disperse the crowd. ‘Do you have a backboard?’

‘Sure. I’ll get it.’

‘Why do they want a blackboard?’ someone asked.

‘A backboard, stupid—I think he’s broken his back,’ was the reply. ‘I expect he’ll be paralysed.’

Matt took the boy’s arms and lifted them up and out, pulling the chest wall up as Sarah breathed into his mouth. Just then the boy coughed, dragged in a great gasp of air and started to cry, curling up his legs and wrapping his arms around his waist.

‘He’s not paralysed,’ the first one said, sounding almost disappointed.

The rest of the crowd cheered. Sarah ignored them, concentrating her attention on the boy and comforting him by holding his hand while Matt checked his pupils and spoke to him, asking his name, the day of the week, how he’d got to the pool that morning—anything to check that he knew who and where he was.

‘He seems lucid. I think he’s been lucky. Darren, are your parents here?’

‘No—I’m with my mates.’

Matt lifted his head. ‘Darren’s friends about?’ he asked the crowd.

Two boys stepped forward, looking worried. Matt turned to the lifeguard. ‘Can we get rid of the rest of this lot? If we can slip him onto the backboard and lift him out of the way, they can all carry on and we won’t have an audience. We need to call an ambulance—I want to get this head checked and stitched and make sure everything else is OK. Do you boys know his home phone number?’

‘Yeah.’

An official was there by then, hovering and making notes, and he took the boys off to contact Darren’s parents, with Matt’s instructions that they were to proceed directly to the hospital.

A few minutes later Darren was removed in the ambulance, the ‘beach’ had been swabbed down and the place was back to normal. Sarah, though, felt as if she’d lost ten years off her life.

Matt took her arm and towed her towards the changing rooms, Emily tucked in against his side. ‘Emily, you go with Sarah and get changed, I’ll see you out the front in a few minutes. I want to follow him to the hospital.’

His eyes were keen, searching Sarah’s face, and she avoided them. She nodded and shepherded Emily to the lockers, retrieved their clothes and went and changed.

‘I don’t have my underwear!’ Emily wailed, searching through her things. ‘I forgot!’

Sarah dredged up a smile. ‘Just put your clothes on without, and we’ll go home and change you after your daddy’s checked things at the hospital. OK?’

Emily nodded and struggled into her jeans, trailing the hems in a puddle and getting stuck halfway down one leg, with her wet foot refusing to release the fabric.

Sarah helped her, towelled and combed her hair and then quickly finished herself off, before gathering their wet things up and pushing them into a bag. ‘All set?’