Page 173 of Good Girl, Bad Blood
‘Don’t, Stanley. Please don’t go,’ she said, keeping her arms straight, compressing his chest.
She counted to thirty and then pinched his nose, placed her mouth over his and breathed into him. Once. Twice.
Returned her hands to his chest and pressed down.
She felt something give way beneath her palm, a crunching sound. One of his ribs cracking.
‘Don’t go, Stanley.’ She watched his unmoving face as she pushed all of her body weight into him. ‘I can save you. I promise. I can save you.’
Breathe. Breathe.
There was a flash in the corner of her eye as the flames exploded, the downstairs windows shattering outward as whirls of fire and smoke climbed up and out, engulfing the outside of the farmhouse. It was incredibly hot, even twenty feet away, and there was a line of sweat running down Pip’s temple as she pushed. Or was that Stanley’s blood?
Another crack under her hand. Another rib gone.
Breathe. Breathe.
‘Come back, Stanley. Please. I’m begging you.’
Her arms were aching already, but she kept going. Push and breathe. She didn’t know how long for; time didn’t seem to exist any more. Just her and the crackling heat of the flames and Stanley.
The first thing she heard was the siren.
Thirty and breathe. Breathe.
And then the slamming of car doors, voices shouting that she couldn’t understand because words didn’t exist here. Onlyonetothirtyandbreathe.
Someone’s hand was on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. It was Soraya. Daniel da Silva stood over them, the fire mirrored back in his horrified eyes. And as he watched, there was a thunderous, end-of-the-world crash as the roof collapsed, caving into the flames.
‘Pip, let me take over,’ Soraya said gently. ‘You’re tired.’
‘No!’ Pip shouted, breathless, sweat falling into her open mouth. ‘I can keep going. I can do this. I can save him. He’s going to be OK.’
‘Paramedics and Fire will be here any minute,’ Soraya said, trying to catch her eye. ‘Pip, what happened?’
‘Charlie Green,’ she gasped between presses. ‘Charlie Green, from number twenty-two Martinsend Way. He shot Stanley. Call Hawkins.’
Daniel stepped back to speak into his radio.
‘Hawkins is already on his way,’ Soraya said. ‘Ravi told us where to find you. Jamie Reynolds is safe.’
‘I know.’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No.’
‘Let me take over.’
‘No.’
The next siren wasn’t far behind, and then two paramedics were around her in their high-vis jackets and their purple-gloved hands.
One paramedic asked Soraya for Pip’s name. She bent low so Pip could see her face.
‘Pip, I’m Julia. You’re doing really well, sweetheart. But I’m going to take over compressions from here, OK?’
Pip didn’t want to, she couldn’t stop. But Soraya dragged her back and she didn’t have the strength to fight her and the purple-gloved hands replaced hers on Stanley’s sunken chest.
