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I carefully turned Finn onto his side whilst Callum packed the rolled-up sleeping bags around him to keep him in place, then I sat back on my heels to watch the magnificent sight of Finn’s chest rising and falling of its own accord. I knew we weren’t out of the woods by any means, but now at least we had a definite glimmer of hope.
“Good work,” Davey said, and gave me a surprisingly boyish grin. “Now, as fun as this has been, shall we let the professionals have a turn now?”
Whilst I’d been working on Finn three ambulances and four Garda vehicles had parked up, and now a veritable swarm of people in a range of uniforms bustled around the little gravel parking lot, made as bright as day by a bank of floodlights.
Four young paramedics clad in dark green coveralls and fluorescent yellow hi-vis jackets ran along the jetty towards us, carting a ridiculous amount of kit between them; oxygen tanks, boxes of medication, monitoring equipment, and all the other unknown but bloody wonderful things they would need to take over the task of keeping Finn alive. I knelt by him and stroked his face. “Hey you,” I said softly, and his eyes flickered open.
“Hey,” he croaked. “Fuck, I hurt.”
I nodded. “Yeah, apparently that’s a common side effect of getting yourself shot, you complete wanker.”
Finn gave a soft laugh, then winced. “Ow. He get you?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “We’re both safe now.” He gave a quiet little sigh of relief, and I decided the details could wait.
I could hear Davey updating the first paramedic to arrive, then she relieved him of his duties and swapped out the blood-soaked shirt for a clean gauze. The other three began setting up equipment and opening various packets of dressings and medication containers, and I knew that it was my turn to take a back seat now.
“I’m just going to wait over there whilst these lovely people fix you up a little more, okay?” I said, and reluctantly took a few steps back. I stayed close whilst one of the paramedics deftly inserted a cannula into the back of Finn’s hand, but he was still too far gone to register that there was a needle anywhere near him. Small mercies, I thought.
Another paramedic with a reassuringly no-nonsense manner approached me carrying a yellow polyester blanket that she draped over my shoulders. “You okay if I give you the once over, Lilith?” she asked. You look like you’ve fairly been through it.”
“Sure,” I said, and let myself be led away to an ambulance for checks on my blood pressure, temperature, and most importantly, my blood oxygen percentage. Considering what I’d put my body through in the last twenty-four hours the first two were surprisingly close to normal, and after ten minutes’ precautionary supplemental oxygen via a face mask, the medic was happy that I was showing no signs of an imminent asthma attack. She also assured me that I could travel with Finn to the hospital, and we’d be on our way as soon as he’d been stabilised, so all I could do now was wait.
“Oi, Lilith – fancy a brew?” Davey called over from where he and Callum sat on the tailgate of a Garda van, and held up a steaming plastic cup. I realised I very much fancied a brew and wearily went to join them.
*****
I had decided that if I had to pick anyone to be at my side in the hopefully very fucking unlikely event of another shooting and drowning of a loved one, I’d go for Davey Conroy every single time.
All I’d known in those first harrowing minutes was that he was both practical and entirely unflappable in a crisis, and he was a highly skilled first aider. As we sat cocooned in blankets in the back of the van and shared hot, sweet tea from his flask we got to talk properly and I learned that the most felicitous skillset I’d ever encountered belonged to a widowed, semi-retired senior prison officer who was also a fanatical sea-fisherman and a scoutmaster of some thirty years’ standing.
Davey and Callum, who at fifteen was already following in his father’s pragmatic boots, had been on an overnighter at their workshop – the source of the glowing window I’d spotted on my arrival – preparing their boat and gear for an early morning cod-fishing trip when they heard the first gunshot. Instead of running away or hiding until the drama was over Davey had immediately run out to see if someone needed help, and then stepped up in the best way imaginable.
“Do you want someone with you at the hospital?” Davey asked, when it finally looked like Finn was ready to be moved. “You’re likely in for a long night, and you’ll still be needing to give a statement to the Gardaí. It can be a bit easier if you’ve got someone by your side.”
The Lilith of old would have immediately given a point blank and possibly foul-mouthed refusal and insisted that she could deal with everything perfectly fine by herself. No need for interference from other humans, thank you very much.
This Lilith swaddled in the back of a van and leaning into the man who’d been a literal lifesaver was no longer that person.
“To be honest that would be amazing,” I admitted without hesitation. “But don’t you need to get Callum home?”
Davey turned to his son who was intently playing some sort of alien-bashing game on his phone. “What do you reckon, Cal?”
Callum looked up from his screen and shrugged. “Well we’ve come this far, no? May as well see it through with you’s. I know it’s weird but I kinda feel, y’know... involved now, yeah? Anyway, the cod’ll still be in the sea next weekend,” he said, then gave me a shy smile before returning to his game.
“See?” Davey said. “As long as he’s got his phone and enough change for the snack machine he’ll be grand.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t start crying on the spot. I still had some standards to maintain, after all. “Well as long as you’re sure you don’t mind-” I began, and Davey gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“It’s like the lad there said, isn’t it? ‘We’re kinda, y’know... involved now, yeah?’”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Finn
I had little recollection of my journey to St Vincent’s Hospital, which was probably a good thing considering the state I was in. It was mostly a jumbled sequence of sensations; flickering streetlights, the sharp scent of antiseptic, a siren wailing, quiet, intense voices, and then the searing pain that I’d felt when I’d regained consciousness melting away, leaving me cushioned on soft cloudbank where nothing mattered anymore, except for the fact that I knew Lilith was there with me, alive and unharmed. Beyond that, everything else could wait.
*****
