The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2911 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The problem with gusting wind is simply not knowing when the next gust will occur. It happened while we were half way to David’s cottage and flung me into Simon, who caught off balance, fell over, fortunately onto some grass albeit of the muddy variety. I of course remained upright and clean.

“D’you mind warning me the next time you’re going to jump on me,” he said as I helped pull him back to his feet.

“It wasn’t me, it was the wind,” so saying the same happened only this time I fell on top of him and neither of us could move for laughing.

“If I recall correctly, this happened once before with a glass of red.”

Thankfully he couldn’t see me blushing in the darkness, but I was getting wet so rose back to my feet and then helped my long suffering husband to his.

“It’s your turn to act as a cushion next time,” he said as we approached the cottage.

By this time Tom had arrived, obviously throwing his clothes on over his pyjamas. “Ye’ll need thae fire brigade tae help get a tarpaulin over thae roof.”

“Can you go and call them while Simon and I see if David is all right?”

“Why don’t ye go an’ Simon and I will rescue David?”

“Because I’m able to get into spaces no one else can, please go and call for help, Daddy.” He frowned but went off back to the house.

“Is the door locked?” I asked Simon. A gust of wind caught the bough of the tree embedded in the roof and we both jumped as some bits of tile fell down around us, one or two big enough to cause serious injury if they’d hit us.

He tried the door and it was locked.

I moved the flower pot by the door and the spare key was there. I picked it up but it wouldn’t fit the keyhole, obviously the key was in the other side of the lock. There being no back entrance, we had to either break in through the door or a window.

Si threw himself at the door and bounced off it. “It’s a mortise lock.”

“So?” he said stepped back and flung himself at the door, this time crashing into the house as the door gave way.

I followed him in and found him lying in the hallway. “Are you all right?” I asked when it was quite obvious he wasn’t.

“Hurt my wrist,” he said as I helped him up. It looked broken to me.

“Okay, wait here, I’ll go up and see if David’s okay.”

“Pretty obvious he isn’t, isn’t it or he’d be shouting at us for waking him up.”

“If he had a few drinks he might just be zonked.”

“He’d also be zonked if a tree hit him,” countered Simon.

“I think I’ll be able to tell the difference.” Without waiting for a reply I scampered up the stairs only to be met by a large piece of tree which was blocking my entrance to the bedroom. I called to him but got no reply. I could feel rain coming in through the hole in the roof. The only way we’d be able to get into him is with chain saws.

Stepping back I could see a gap under our uninvited timber guest and decided I’d see if I could wriggle under it and get to David. I lay on my back and moved headfirst under the large lump of tree. In the dark I couldn’t see very much and banged my head on the leg of a small table in the bedroom.

It took several minutes to work my way under the fallen bough and finally I was able to roll and pull myself upright. I eventually found the light switch and to my horror saw that the tree had crashed right across his bed. If he was still alive with a ton of kindling lying on top of him, it would be something verging on miraculous. Flashing blue lights, visible through the curtains showed the cavalry had arrived. I struggled to get to David and found an arm, he had a pulse in his wrist. He was still alive, but for how much longer? Damn, I’d have to cook dinner tomorrow—that means we’ll have to save him.

I heard heavy footsteps thump up the stairs. “Fuck me,” was exclaimed.

“No thank you,” I called back.

“Sorry, Missus. How’d you get in there?”

“I crawled under the tree.”

“I don’t think any of us lot will get through there.”

“We have a casualty, he has a pulse but is unconscious.”

“We’re going to need a crane to get this out.” I heard him talking on his radio. “Could we get to him through the window?” he called to me.

“No, the tree is blocking the way from there as well.”

“Okay, a crane is on its way, I’ve asked them to hurry but you know how slow they are.”

It took an hour for the heavy lifting crane to arrive and another twenty minutes for it to get into position, partly because they had to move David’s car, the keys for which were in his pocket, under the tree. In the end they picked it up with the crane and moved it down the drive but close enough to the wall to enable the crane to depart afterwards.

Eventually, someone was lowered in with a set of heavy duty chains. This was now two hours since the tree crashed on the cottage. I helped him secure them around the tree, they were really heavy and it was as much as I could do to hold them let alone wrap them round anything.

It took another twenty minutes to move the bough, care being taken not to hurt David any more than was unavoidable. Paramedics dashed in and he was in A&E some fifteen minutes later, the two paramedics and two burly firemen carrying him down on a stretcher. He was badly injured, with severe crush injuries. He could still die. It was now that I could recognise the severity of his injuries and I felt really shocked.

I left Tom directing the rescuers in placing a large tarpaulin over the hole in the roof and securing it there. Simon escorted me, cold and wet, back to the house and sat me down while he got Stella, who’d been woken by the flashing lights and big diesel engines of the crane and fire tender, to make some tea.

I drank the tea, then rushed upstairs, changed and before Simon could stop me jumped in the car and drove off to the hospital, where apparently, bedlam was ensuing because of a shortage of nurses.

It was very fortunate that Ken Nicholls had been called in because he saw me in the waiting area and asked the receptionist what I was doing there? She told him I was the employer of one the victims of the storm. On asking which one, he went to examine him and then told them to get me in there quickly.

The junior doctor was out of her depth and aware that David’s vitals were spiralling downwards but could very little to assist him. Ken was being requested to go and operate and the other theatre was already in use with victims of a car crash.

I was shown in and could see immediately that David was in dire straits. “Do what you can, Cathy, if you can stabilise him, I’ll have him down in theatre next.”

I nodded my eyes filling with tears.

“If she needs anything, get it for her, okay?” he instructed the young woman doctor who remained with me.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Try and keep him alive until Ken can take him down for theatre.”

“Are you a doctor then?”

“Yes of biology.”

“So how are you going to help him?” She looked askance at me.

“Watch and you may see.”

“Watch what?”

“Just shut your mouth but keep your eyes open.”

“David, it’s me, Cathy, I’ve come to help you. Just concentrate on my voice and watch for the blue star to make itself visible to you...”