‘He’s not breathing; I don’t think his heart’s beating.’ Looking up, she surveyed the stunned and horrified crowd. She had wrongly expected some sort of reaction to her statement, for someone to snap to attention, for some assistance. But no one was moving.
No one except Zavier. Kneeling astride his father, after a momentary pause he took control in an instant. ‘Someone call an ambulance—is anyone a doctor?’ Bending forward, he pinched his father’s nose and gave him the kiss of life, nodding briefly as Tabitha leant on the lifeless, still chest and pushed as she had seen on the television, berating herself over and over for her lack of knowledge, for the awkward giggles expended in that first aid course when she really should have listened.
‘Can I help?’
The oldest man Tabitha had ever seen was being pushed forward by a tearful Marjory, his old bones leaning heavily on a walking stick, small eyes magnified by the thickest glasses imaginable.
‘Gilbert’s the family doctor,’ Marjory sobbed.
A smile that was absolutely out of place tugged at the corner of her lips as she registered Zavier’s horror, and, most amazingly of all, when his eyes briefly met hers he returned her smile.
‘We’re doing fine,’ Zavier clipped between breaths. ‘Perhaps Gilbert could ring Melbourne, line up Dad’s cardiac doctor.’
Her hair was plastered to her head with sweat, her arms aching with the sheer exertion of keeping Jeremy’s heart pumping, and she knew she couldn’t go on for much longer.
‘Aiden, help me here.’ She looked at the stricken face of her dearest friend and her heart went out to him, but she needed his help. ‘Aiden?’ she pleaded.
But all Aiden could do was stand and weep. ‘Please, Dad, breathe,’ he begged, tears streaming down his face as she worked on the inert body of his father.#p#分页标题#e#
‘Do you want to swap?’ Zavier offered, but Tabitha shook her head, knowing Zavier was working just as hard as her and that seconds lost in moving would be seconds Jeremy needed.
On she worked, the hot sun on the back of her neck, her eyes blurry from sweat and make-up and mascara that clearly wasn’t as waterproof as it said on the tube, almost weeping with relief when finally the sound of sirens in the distance permeated the sultry afternoon air.
Exhausted, she leant back on her heels as the paramedics took over, clipping endless monitors to the still lifeless body, pushing oxygen into his mouth through a bag. Tabitha tried to move back on cramped legs that wouldn’t obey her.
‘We’re going to shock him,’ the paramedic said sombrely, and Tabitha knew that it was now or never. ‘Everybody back.’
Strong arms lifted her out of the way, and without looking she knew instinctively it was Zavier.
The defibrillator paddles were placed on Jeremy’s chest and they all stood back as the paramedic delivered an electric shock in an attempt to restore the chaotic rhythm of Jeremy’s heartbeat.
‘Again. Everybody back.’
Her legs were trembling so violently she thought she might sink back to the floor. But Zavier’s strong arms were still around her, holding her tightly as they stared transfixed at the monitor. Her mind was on Jeremy, willing him to live, and yet with Zavier’s arms around her she couldn’t help but draw from his strength, couldn’t help but lean on him slightly. Never had she felt closer to him.
Surely now there must be a chance for them?
A loud blip emanated from the monitor, and they watched as the flat green line flickered once, then twice, and then again, the blips becoming more frequent. An audible sigh of relief filled the room as Jeremy’s heart reverted to a stable rhythm.
‘Thank God,’ Tabitha muttered, more to herself than anyone else, but for some reason her words seemed to incense Zavier. As if suddenly conscious that he was touching her, holding her, he dropped her out of his arms as if he was holding hot coal.
‘Why the relief?’ he snapped, his eyes full of hatred, contempt. ‘Were you worried you mightn’t get the second instalment?’
With horror, Tabitha swung to face him, her optimism of a moment before, the slim belief that now there might be a chance for them, evaporating in the heat that radiated from his eyes. But there was no time to argue the point. Jeremy Chambers had to take precedence here.
This was no time to tell him she loved him.
‘Is there anything else I can do?’ Ashen, trembling, she offered her assistance to the paramedics as Zavier organised the guests to clear chairs and prepare a makeshift landing pad.
‘The best thing you can do is to have a large brandy, love. Not the nicest thing to happen at your wedding, is it? We’re waiting for the helicopter to arrive. We’re going to take him direct to Melbourne.’