Wall

I've been drawn away from writing about the party. I'll finish that particular story some other time.

I've been thinking of the consequences of the weather we've been having. A two year old boy was killed whilst out for a walk with his childminder. A wall collapsed onto him.

That's set me off thinking all sorts of thoughts, most of which I'd rather not be thinking.

Would that have been a better way? was the first question I asked myself. Would that have been a better way than Jessica's?

I've been trying to imagine how the parents would have been informed. I suppose my social diet of films and TV programmes is partly to blame, but I keep picturing a scenario in which the childminder walks into the house - trembling with fear - and sees Mr and Mrs Parent engaged in some hideously cuddly domestic activity, like making their own jam. Mrs Parent immediately senses that something's wrong. "What's the matter, Natasha?" she asks.

At which point Natasha falls to her knees, throws her arms around Mrs Parent's legs and screams, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I tried to save him, there was nothing we could do."

No, I think it's safe to assume that the reality was rather different.

At what point would the parents have come to know about what had happened? Which of them would have been told first? I expect it was the mother. Would it have been a phone call from the childminder? Was she in a fit enough state to make a call? The news reports are sketchy on details of her injuries. I suppose she would've called an ambulance first. And then what? Apparently someone on the scene gave the boy mouth-to-mouth.

What would it have been like to have been the mother of that boy, getting a phone call from the childminder.

"Hello."

[bawling, weeping] "Oh my God, Mrs Smith. Jakey's hurt. He's badly hurt. Oh my God!"

"Hello? Natasha? Is that you?"

"Mrs Smith, you've got to come quick, it's Jake." [a deep breath to compose her thoughts and control her crying] "He's just lying there. He's not moving. The man says he's not breathing."

[the blood's drained out of her voice] "Natasha, where are you? What's happened?"

"The wall. It was the wall. We were just walking and... [sobbing] oh my God, oh my God, I'm so sorry, Jakey, Jakey..."

"Natasha! Please, calm down! Where are you? What happened?"

[responding to the urgency in Mrs Smith's voice] "We were walking. Jakey and I. It was windy. You know, the storm. We were walking past this wall. He was holding my hand. There was this sudden gust of wind. And then next thing I knew, I was lying on the pavement, covered in bricks. And I looked around. But I couldn't move properly. And I saw Jakey's hand. It was sticking out from under... under a pile of bricks... and... and... oh my God, Mrs Smith, he's not moving, he's not moving."

"Where are you? Have you phoned an ambulance?"

[focussing again] "Yeah, yeah, we have. This man, he helped me up. And I called an ambulance. And they're on their way. And he's giving Jakey mouth-to-mouth."

"Where are you?"

"We're... we're near the Post Office in the Co-op. You know, just near the crossroads."

"Right, I'm on my way."

How far away was she from the crossroads near the Co-op? What if she was nowhere near home on that day? What if she was away on some business meeting somewhere in another county? What if she doesn't work at all, but hires the services of a childminder every now and then so she can have the ocassional girls' day out with her friends? What if she was in a bar enjoying an early marguerita, nibbling on olives and cheese straws?

When does she phone her husband? Before she gets in the car? During the journey?

"Something's happened to Jakey. I've just had call from Natasha. They were out for a walk and a... she said a wall collapsed on him."

"What??"

"And she's had to call an ambulance 'cause he's not moving. How soon can you get there?"

"Where are they?"

And so the vital piece of information is conveyed again and another person begins to speed towards the crossroads by the Co-op.

What's Mrs Smith thinking during her drive? Does she put on the radio to drown out her thoughts? Something loud and brazen. Does she hold onto the steering wheel so tight that her fingers feel sore for days afterwards? Does she feel a tear falling down her left cheek and then fling it away, biting her lips, determined not to lose control?

No, she's probably on the phone to Natasha all the way during the journey. She keeps checking her mobile to make sure she's got enough battery left. She tries to remember when was the last time she charged her Bluetooth.

"Is the ambulance there yet?"

[her voice now more rigid] "No. I phoned ages ago. I don't know where the nearest hospital is."

"Is he breathing."

[to someone else] "Is he breathing yet?" [back into the phone] "No, no he's not. The man says he can keep going with the mouth-to-mouth until the ambulance comes. [pause] It's Mr Smith on the other line again. What shall I do?"

"No! Don't hang up! I need you to stay on the line to me!"

[This will probably be the point about which they will argue for weeks and months. It might even be the thing that leads to their divorce.]

"But he keeps phoning!"

"NO! I've told him where you are. I'll call him myself in a minute."

[pause] "They're here! They're coming. The ambulance is here."

Mrs Smith can hear the sirens. Her stomach churns and squeezes tight. She thinks she's going to be sick but she pushes down the accelerator and keeps going. She hears car doors slamming. She hears voices shouting, Natasha talking, explaining the events again.

Was that a red light she just went through?

Suddenly, she realises Natasha's calling her again. "Mrs Smith. Mrs Smith, you there?"

"What? Yes, yes, what is it?"

"They're taking Jakey to... [speaking to someone else] Where? [back into the phone again] They're taking him to... [and she gives the name of the hospital]"

"Is he going to be ok?"

"They don't know. They've gotta take him to hospital."

"You go with him, Natasha."

"Yeah."

"Keep your phone on."

"Yeah."

"I'll start heading for the hospital."

"Yeah, all right."

Mrs Smith goes through a quick route-change in her head, makes a sudden left turn and is on her way to the hospital.

Natasha again. "Mr Smith's calling."

"No!"

"But... don't you want to tell him which hospital he's got to go to?"

"What?" [a pause] "Okay, I'll call him. But then I'm phoning you write back! Don't switch off your phone, even if the ambulance people tell you to!"

"Yeah, ok."

Mrs Smith phones her husband, spends about thirty seconds telling him the name of the hospital and the reason for Natasha's failure to answer his calls. Then she hangs up without telling him if Jakey's breathing. She tries Natasha's number, but there's no answer. The ambulance crew have probably told Natasha that the mobile would interfere with their equipment.

And then she really is left with her silence. Does she phone her husband? Who knows. I think I probably wouldn't have.

And then the rest of the story will probably be dominated by people in uniforms. Mrs Smith will arrive at the hospital and sprint into A&E. She'll see Natasha sitting on a chair, hands clasped together, eyes staring into the distance. She'll scream at the woman behind the counter: "Jake Smith!"

And then a small troupe will gather around her and she will be whisked away and a few minutes later a man in a white gown will use words like "head injury", "sorry", "sustained" and "nothing more".

And will Mr Smith be by her side at this point? And when will they get a chance to see their little Jakey?

And after they've heard the story again from Natasha, will they ever want to speak to her again? Will they grow to hate her? I don't even know her, I don't even know if she's real, but I hate her just the same. I hate the fact that she chose the route she did. I hate the fact that she was walking on the outside of the pavement. I hate the fact that not one of her limbs has been horribly mangled, that she doesn't need serious medical attention.

Maybe that's the one good thing about all this: today, I'm not too numb to hate.