Jessica picked up the key and reached up to the window lock. She tried pushing it in, but couldn’t make her fingers obey as the metal scratched either side of the hole, instead of sliding into the centre. She stopped, closing her eyes and counting to ten.

As she reached the final number, she opened her eyes as wide as they could go, and the blue rotating lights of the fire engines appeared at the bottom of their small front garden. Jessica thought she could see people moving but her vision was hazy around the edges. Focusing all her effort on the lock, she pushed the key in and turned it, before wrenching the handle up and shoving the window outwards.

The tears she had been desperate to cry finally erupted as Jessica gulped in the clear night air. It was cold and hurt her throat but she had never felt anything as refreshing in her life. She leant out of the window, drinking in the oxygen, tears streaming down her face.

The ground below her was a mix of bright blue and a dim orange and she could hear voices. Their words all blended into one but someone appeared to be shouting towards her. She tried to respond but the combination of the pain and dryness of her mouth along with the clean air meant she could do little more than cough.

As Jessica struggled to keep herself conscious, she felt a noise somewhere close by and realised a ladder had appeared next to where she was resting. Everything within her was telling her to allow herself to sleep but she could hear metallic vibrations of footsteps climbing the rungs. She felt an arm on her and someone telling her she was fine but, when she attempted to open her eyes, she could see only vague grey shapes.

Jessica felt a sensation of being lifted but wasn’t aware of whether she was awake. She felt a sense of weightlessness, as if she was floating, but she couldn’t decide what was real and what was in her mind. All of a sudden, there was a damp sensation on her back, quickly replaced by someone covering her with what she thought was a blanket. Jessica forced her eyes open but felt dazed by the blue light. Her feet felt warm and, as she tried to sit up, she realised she was half-lying on the lawn at the front of their house. Someone was supporting her and she could hear voices and a vehicle screeching to a halt.

She looked up at the house, taking large gulps of air as she realised someone must have carried her down the ladder. Jessica didn’t know if she had been asleep but whoever was sitting next to her was stroking her back and holding a bottle of water close to her lips.

Jessica felt someone kneel nearby but the person with the water simply said, ‘There’s one more’.

At first it didn’t register what they had said but Jessica’s mind slowly started to put together what was going on. The person who had knelt close to her was wearing a green colour and was likely a paramedic. ‘Adam,’ Jessica croaked.

‘It’s all right,’ a female said as they continued to stroke her back. ‘Drink.’ Jessica did as she was told, the liquid rushing down her throat and making her cough painfully. ‘Slowly,’ the person said. Jessica had no idea who they were but she could sense the concern in their voice. She tried sipping the fluid and it felt much better the second time, easing the ache that was throbbing through her body.

‘Adam,’ Jessica tried again. She could tell she had said it more clearly the second time. She wanted the woman to tell her everything was fine but her eyes closed involuntarily and Jessica rested her head against the paramedic.

She wanted to be able to respond to the words she heard shouted but her body refused to let her move.

Instead, the anguished cries from someone nearby of ‘he’s not breathing’ sent her off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

25

Once a week when Jessica was a child, her mum would shoo everyone out of the kitchen and thoroughly bleach everything. Because you couldn’t get to the living room without going through the kitchen – and she wasn’t allowed past – she would have to choose where to spend an hour while everything dried out. She would usually opt for her bedroom but the smell would drift through the house wherever she was. Whenever she heard anyone talking about cleaning, she could almost sense the aroma from when she was a child, its pungency as strong as ever.

Jessica knew she was awake as she breathed in the smell of disinfectant. For a moment, she thought she was a child again, sitting in her room as her mum mopped and dusted below. She knew she was lying somewhere comfortable but her eyelids seemed to have weights attached. Wherever she was, everything felt peaceful. Wondering if she would be able to fall asleep again, Jessica allowed her airways to relax, breathing in the scent that made her think of home.

And then she started coughing.

At first it was a slight tickle at the back of her throat but then it shook her entire body. She could feel the heave starting somewhere in her stomach, pains shooting through her chest as she sat up, a thick liquid being pushed upwards into her mouth. She opened her eyes, dazzled by the bright lights, but with an overwhelming sensation that she was going to be sick. She was trying to stop her body from trembling and instinctively found herself rolling over until she was on her hands and knees. The softness of the surface told her she was on a bed but it felt unfamiliar. Someone nearby was saying her name and, although she tried to swallow it, the pain was too much as Jessica spat the mucus towards the floor.

Her mouth felt disgusting; the smell of disinfectant, which once was comforting, now made her feel nauseous. Her vision began to drift into focus, the white of the lights overhead fading into the colour of the room as shapes began to form. Jessica blinked furiously and the outline of Rowlands filtered into view.

‘Dave . . .’

‘Jess, you’re awake . . .’ She felt him move before she saw him, almost as if her brain was telling her something was happening before her eyes could register what it was. Her head was spinning as the constable’s hand touched her shoulder. ‘You should lie back down,’ he said. ‘I’ll get someone.’

‘No, stay.’

Jessica’s memory was hazy but she felt a need to have someone close by.

‘Okay, okay, but you have to at least sit.’

After he pointed it out, Jessica realised she was still on her hands and knees on a bed, but it was only then she realised her arms were aching. She felt her colleague’s hands on the upper part of her back as she turned herself over and relaxed against the headrest.

‘Am I at yours?’ she asked, her words grating on her throat.

The constable didn’t answer immediately but she knew her voice hadn’t sounded right. She felt him pressing a glass into her hands. ‘Drink,’ he said gently.

Jessica first sipped the liquid but as it eased the pain in her throat, she drank more quickly, taking large gulps until she was coughing again.

‘Slowly,’ she heard his voice saying.

As her spluttering slowly evaporated, Jessica felt his warm hand on her forehead, pushing hair away from her face. ‘You should sleep,’ he said, his words soft and calming.

Jessica felt something familiar in his words but her mind wasn’t alert enough to process them. She slid down under the bed sheets and felt someone rearranging the covers around her. As they moved to draw away, she gripped their hand, holding tight before closing her eyes and allowing the tiredness to envelop her.

Jessica jolted awake as another cough ripped from her stomach. Her body contorted involuntarily into a sitting position as she struggled to catch her breath before, finally, her chest calmed. She opened her eyes gradually but the room felt darker than she remembered.