Sense and French Ability (24 page)

It seemed like quite a long time later that the winch began to raise the man from below their line of sight and with him was harnessed something else. Water streamed from them. From that distance, they could not determine who or what was being lifted. However, it looked like a person; with arms hanging loose and head to one side, hanging there with the paramedic. There was no colour to the clothing of the rescued. There was no means of identification.

Chapter 24

“What do you think? Who is it? Do you think it’s him?” Fliss asked her friend quietly.

Tears seeped from her eyes and rolled silently down her cheeks. A frown was deep across her forehead.

“Right, the rain is easing off again now.” Jo spoke decisively. “Alexandre, would you take Fliss down the road in your tractor and see if you can find M. le Bec and help her to ask him what is going on?”

“Certainly, I shall,” the obliging young man answered. He had no idea why this was necessary but he liked these people and he was very easy going. He also loved a bit of an adventure and was very keen to be part of any action.

They donned waterproofs and hurried down the steps in the grey drizzle that was falling. It was a squeeze and a squash in the ancient tractor cab. Perched uncomfortably next to the driver’s seat on the wheel arch, Fliss’s head was bent and her back thrust against the window. She was glad, though, that it was usual practice for just about all the younger people and many older ones in the village to own such a vehicle.

As they left the driveway, went down the road and around the slight bend they could not believe their eyes. The once peaceful, gurgling, friendly, little river was indecipherable. There was water everywhere, rushing and tumbling with a rage that was frightening. As Fliss and Alexandre watched, mesmerised, they were not sure where the road was anymore, or if it was even still there at all.

As they stopped and stared a large tree came careering down the valley, carried by the raging flood at 50 kilometres an hour. The house on the far corner was half gone. Its walls were simply not there. The fireplace on the end wall was hanging and it was somehow obscene to see someone’s wall paper exposed; their personal space with only half of their furniture, and ornaments on full display for all to witness.

“I don’t think even the bridge is there anymore,” Alexandre said, in a bewildered voice. “It all looks so foreign.”

They sat and watched, unsure what to do. Then, in the distance, they heard the siren of an emergency vehicle. Soon they heard another and there came a cacophony of sound as the red vehicles came into sight, across the water from where they were sitting.

“There, over there.” Alexandre said. “I think that’s him.”

“Who? Where?” Fliss asked. Her heart started thumping.

“Pierre. M. le Maire.”

“Oh.”

Disappointment flooded over Fliss.

Before Alexandre could stop her, she had flung open the cab door and leapt down into the road. Running towards the surging flood, Alexandre was in hot pursuit and managed to grab her arm before she got too close. He was far more aware of imminent danger than Fliss was at that moment.

“I must ask M. le Bec where Jean Chri is,” she shouted above the noise. She searched her pockets but, in her state of rush, she had come out without her phone.

“How could I have been so stupid? No phone!”

“I have mine,” said Alexandre digging in his pocket. “I will telephone Pierre for you.”

“Thank you so much,” Fliss said desperately. She could hear the panic in her own voice.

Several frustrating minutes passed while Fliss watched him for discernible expression, trying to understand his rapid French and read his face for clues of the conversation.

“What is it?” She grabbed his arm as soon as the call was finished.

“They found Jean Chri in the flood. It took them some time to spot him because he was wedged against a tree trunk that has since passed on down the river. Apparently the trees that came down higher upstream then got stuck across the river and formed a dam. When one broke free tons of water came with it and broke the bank. With the force of it, the trees have just crashed through everything; taken down the corner of that house, damaged the bridge beyond repair.”

“Right! But what about Jean Chri? Is he alright?” Fliss was making demands without ceremony, almost shaking him.

“The medicopter lifted him out and they’re taking him to hospital.”

“But he’s alive. He’s alright, isn’t he!” Fliss made the statement.

With relief, her legs buckled beneath her, and Alexandre just managed to scoop her up before she fell. Fliss had feared much worse and her heart was beating so fast she felt dizzy and shaky. In the next moment she was not so sure all was well.

“Fliss, I know no more,” the poor young lad answered her insistent questioning. It was a lot for him to accept. He had never seen so much devastation.

“Which hospital?”

“What?”

“Alexandre, which hospital will they take him to?”

“I don’t know. There’s the one in Arras or the other one near the coast. I don’t know. It could even be Amiens I suppose.” He frowned. “I’m sorry Fliss, I don’t know.”

“We must get home. I need to phone around and find him,” Fliss shouted, as she turned and started to run.

*

Fliss looked in the
Annuaire
. The white pages were listed by towns and villages, not occupations, so it was easier to find a phone number than she was used to. The only trouble was, her copies only covered the immediate region and did not go as far as Amiens.

Finding the numbers for the more local hospitals with a fearful urgency, the task took Fliss longer than it should as her hands were still shaking. Eventually she had two of the numbers for which she had been searching frantically.

She passed them to Alexandre with a pleading look. He seemed the most capable among them, and had a presence that seemed to command respect from others. He took them and once more found his mobile phone.

This was Fliss’s worst nightmare – she’d never dreamed she might lose the amazing man with whom she had fallen in love so desperately. She never imagined this horror or uncertainty. She could not believe that such a tragedy had happened.

Again, Fliss was scrutinising Alexandre’s expression to gain clues. His first call ended relatively smartly and he shook his head ruefully whilst dialling the next number.

Fliss could not sit down for agitation.

The second call took longer and she was more hopeful. Alexandre was speaking quickly but she gathered he was making enquiries. She heard Jean Chri’s name and then his address. There was a long, long pause. Feeling impatient for information, she clamped her hands around the back of a chair, her knuckles showing white.

Alexandre calmed her down with the flat of his hand waving up and down. Jo came across to put her arm around Fliss’s shoulders, and Fliss placed her hand upon Jo’s with gratitude. Finally, after what seemed like a long time the invisible person at the other end returned with news. Standing up straight in her tense agitation, Alexandre shook his head sadly at Fliss.

“
Rien
,” he sighed spreading his arms and shrugging. “I shall phone for the number at Amiens.”

“Nothing? OK. Thank you,” Fliss said, collapsing again.

The waiting seemed interminable in her anxious state.

Eventually they tracked Jean Chri at Amiens, but information was scarce. They were reluctant to reveal information on the telephone, especially since they were not relatives.

Melodie quickly picked up on how full of fret Fliss was. Fliss hugged the child her to her, truly sorry but unable to be calm. Melodie began to wail.

“When will mummy and daddy come?”

“
Chouchou,
chérie,” Fliss said. “I don’t know what is happening at the moment. I do know they love you and they will be happy to know that you are safe here with us. We must all be brave.”

“I must to go to Amiens,” Fliss turned and said to Jo.

“It’s an hour’s drive, at least. Will it be safe to travel?”

“I have to try. I remember it’s main roads all the way and it’s higher ground.”

“I think I should come too.”

“I don’t want to leave Melodie,” Fliss said, frowning, as tears welled into her eyes yet again at the thought of the divided loyalty into which she had been plunged.

Then, in English so that the child would not understand, Jo spoke.

“I know it’s not necessarily suitable for her to come to the hospital but I could look after her there until we know how Jean Chri is. It would take her mind off waiting here for her parents, and she might be able to see him.”

“Oh, but what if they come while we are out?” Fliss wondered aloud.

“They certainly won’t mind staying here until we return. At least they will know what is happening, if they arrive. Everyone here will tell them.”

“Right, yes. I’ll fetch some things for her to do and some snacks she might like. Then we can go,” Fliss said. “Oh no! The cows, they will need attention. I know Jean Chri made sure they were alright in the early hours of this morning but they will need milking or something.”

“Will you and Nicolas see to them?” Jo asked Alexandre.

“
Bien
sûr
,” he answered easily. “
Nous
sommes
tous
de
bons
voisins
. We must be in such times of difficulty.”

“Yes that’s true, good neighbours indeed, and I think some have become good neighbours again,” Fliss acknowledged with a nod across the room. Thank you Alexandre. Thank you so much,” she said fervently.

“I’ll drive your car.” Jo spoke in a determined voice. “You’re not really in a fit state, and then you can sit in the back with Melodie.”

*

When Fliss looked into the room through the small window in the door, Jean Chri was sleeping. He looked unshaven and unkempt. They had given him something shapeless to wear, but otherwise he looked peaceful. Then Fliss became conscious of the drip entering his veins through his hand, and she couldn’t help but put her hand to her mouth and take a sharp intake of breath.

The young nurse standing beside her put her hand upon Fliss’s shoulder and said something about being careful. Fliss didn’t understand. Did she mean Fliss or the medical team? He had a strange sort of blanket thing around his torso with tubes coming from it. Now that she was here in person the nurses were more forth-coming.

Fliss gathered that they had been unsure if Jean Chri was unconscious or not when they lifted him out of the water. He was suffering from severe hypothermia. Apparently, in the medicopter he was given warm water saturated air to help increase the temperature of his core, the nurse said. This was all so strange and terrifying to Fliss.

She had left Jo and Melodie downstairs and managed to find her way through the maze of corridors to the nurses’ station for the correct area, and the kind nurse was trying to explain what was happening.

“Will he be alright?” Fliss stumbled on the words.

“There is every indication he will be fine. He is responding well. The most dangerous time was the journey here. His heart rate was so low he could have had a cardiac arrhythmia, but that danger has passed. We are bringing his temperature up slowly. We have not had to do an ECLS – in English I think you call it ECMO? So that’s good. That’s why he was brought here, instead of a more local hospital. We have the capability.”

The nurse could see she had lost Fliss completely. She tried to explain that an ECMO was something to do with temporarily withdrawing blood, warming it and replacing it. Since it had not been necessary, Fliss really did not want to think about those horrors.

As they watched, another nurse came to check on Jean Chri. Then she looked across at Fliss’s pale, worried face framed in the little window and popped her head around the door.

“All will be well,” she reassured Fliss. “They will keep him here for a few days to be certain all is fine. You can come in, but only for a minute. This is a high dependency area,” she explained. “Really you shouldn’t be in here but I can see how anxious you are.”

‘I wouldn’t be able to do this in England,’ Fliss thought.

“You will be able to see for yourself that he is breathing,” the nurse said, smiling.

He looked so normal. Fliss was very relieved as she gently pushed his hair from his forehead and felt some warmth. How she loved this man.

“All will be well, I think. Come back in tomorrow morning. I’m sure you will find a good change,” the nurse said in English, for which Fliss was grateful.

She returned to Jo and Melodie to tell them the news. Having telephoned the house and spoken to Harriet, there was still no sign of Melodie’s parents. Was this going to be the next worry?

They decided to go and find a room for the night so that they could visit again in the morning.

“Melodie, would you like a McDonald’s?” Jo asked with enthusiasm.

“Ooh yes please,” she responded. “That’s a treat for special occasions, Mummy always says. Will she mind now? Is it a special occasion?”

“Yes, it’s a very special time,” Fliss said, grinning and feeling extremely light of heart all of a sudden.

They found themselves a three bed room in a cheap hotel chain. Across the road was the fast food restaurant which they entered eagerly. The food was the same in most countries, it seemed, and they settled for meals that were familiar.