Lifesaving for Beginners

it to everyone at Arch club last week. He doesn’t have a girlfriend like I do but he likes a girl called Carla. She’s in his class but he doesn’t want to kiss her. Just hang around with her sometimes.’
    ‘Ed?’
    ‘And his sister is in a band. It’s called . . . I can’t remember what it’s called but Milo said you can download their album, if you want to. Do you want to?’
    ‘Do I want to what?’ I’m lighting the fire. Well, I’m switching on the gas fire.
    ‘Do you want to download Faith’s album?’
    ‘Maybe later.’
    We watch The Wizard of Oz . Ed sings along with the Munchkins of Munchkinland, like he always does. He covers his face with his hands when the Wicked Witch of the West makes an appearance. And he cries when Lion sings ‘If I Only Had a Heart’, just like always. I sit beside him on the couch. There’s a chance I’m smiling. It feels nice.
    Ed hates it when the film returns to black and white, near the end. I get up to switch it off before he begins complaining. It’s only when I return to the couch that I notice he’s asleep. I shake his shoulder. I say, ‘Ed. ED! Wake up.’
    He jerks awake and looks for a moment like he has no idea where he is or how he got here.
    I say, ‘Ed, sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a fright . . . Are you all right? It’s just . . . what the hell are you doing falling asleep in the middle of The Wizard of Oz anyway? It’s one of your favourites.’
    ‘Was I asleep?’
    When I look at him carefully, I see the skin of his face is pale. Tight. There are dark circles under his eyes. I think he’s right. He is a bit tired. I put my hand across his forehead. The skin there is a bit damp. I take his temperature. It’s normal.
    I say, ‘I’ll make you a smoothie. That’ll perk you up.’
    Ed shakes his head. He says, ‘No, Kat. Thanks a lot. I think I’ll go home now.’
    ‘I thought you were staying over? I’ve made up your bed and everything.’ I even draped fairy lights along the top of the mirror in his room. Ed loves fairy lights.
    Ed says, ‘OK, Kat. I’ll stay.’
    I know that Ed does not want to stay.
    ‘It’s all right, Ed, you don’t have to stay.’
    ‘OK then. Can you drive me home?’
    I ring the Italian restaurant and cancel our order, then turn off the fire.
    I say, ‘Come on, then,’ as if there’s nothing wrong. And there is nothing wrong. Probably nothing. People get tired. People get tired all the time. And just because Ed never complains about being tired doesn’t mean that he is immune to fatigue, right? He just needs one good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast in the morning and he’ll be fine. Kippers, maybe. Ed loves kippers. Despite the foul stench. And they’re very good for you, I’d say. Smelly food often is. Like cabbage. Smelly as hell but a brilliant source of various bits and bobs, like vitamins and minerals and whatnot.
    Ed doesn’t move so I take his hand and lead him towards the door. He sways a little, as if he’s dizzy. His hand feels cold. Clammy. I am carrying his overnight bag but he doesn’t take it from me, as he usually would. He says ladies aren’t supposed to carry baggage.
    Outside, the air is solid with cold. It feels like it might stick in your throat. I hold the keys out to Ed. He likes pressing the button. The way the lights flash on and off by themselves.
    Ed shakes his head.
    So I press the button myself, like it’s no big deal. I press the button, open the boot and turn to pick up Ed’s bag, and that’s when I see Ed and he’s bent over and sort of clutching his chest and his breath is coming and going in gasps and he looks at me and there is confusion all over his face and I’m afraid. I’m not supposed to be the one who is afraid. I’m supposed to be Kat. The big sister. The one who knows things.
    But I am afraid. I say, ‘ED!’ I think I shout it. I run till I reach him, put my arms round him. He leans against me like I’m a wall and then he sort of crumbles until he is sitting and then lying on the hard, cold ground. His eyes are open but I don’t think he can hear me. I take off my coat, wrap it round him, throw everything out of my bag, look for the bloody mobile.
    The hospital is listed under A for A&E in my contacts. The phone rings and rings. I hang up and I scream out loud and lights snap on in various windows. I dial 999. I ask for an ambulance. I tell them it’s an emergency. They say it’ll be twenty minutes. I say, ‘No. That’s too