Arrivals and Departures

                                        Arrivals and Departures

The sound of sirens was distant. Smoke billowed, thick and dense. Amid the chaos and screaming, Tess knew she was okay. She just knew it. Someone somewhere was watching over her. Within seconds of crossing the road to join the queue for taxis caught up in rush hour traffic, the glass frontage of the airport shattered with an explosion so powerful it knocked her off her feet. She instinctively picked herself up and patted down her clothes and her bump. No shards of glass, no blood, no broken bones. The baby inside her stretched and kicked. It was okay too. The seconds passed. She wondered if she was in shock. Maybe she should be crying or shouting out for help. She turned and saw crowds from Arrivals running through the smoke. She had been there seconds earlier, in the same spot as the woman with the flaming coat running towards her. Tess shouted at her.

‘Stop running. Lie down now. Please, someone help her.’

An older man threw her to the ground and dampened the flames. She screamed. Fear and pain, Tess thought, wondering if the man might have done himself an injury. Men forget their age. He must have been at least seventy. When she called for someone to help, that’s not who she had in mind. But everyone else was burning or bleeding so better him than her. It had all happened so quickly. As she stood in the chaos, she thought only of her baby. Hand on bump, she stroked it and muttered soothing words, a comfort for them both.

The man who had saved the flaming woman offered Tess his large suitcase as a seat.

‘Excuse me. Are you okay? I think you need to sit down. Please, take this. The ambulances will be here soon. I think they’ll want to get you checked out at the hospital.’

Tess managed a smile and a brief word of thanks as he sat next to her on the kerb. She thought she must be in shock, she was never stuck for words. He nodded, sensing her need for quiet. She decided to phone Tom. Surely her near death experience might motivate him to come for her. She reached into her pocket for her phone but it wasn’t there. She tried her bag. No luck. She had it in her hand as she crossed the road. It must be around somewhere.

Tess’s mind drifted as she retraced her minutes before the carnage. She was reading and rereading the message on her phone from Tom as she stood idly on the escalator in the terminal. He couldn’t pick her up. Work. Nothing new there. But his lack of apology was new. No words pleading for forgiveness. No promise to make it up to her. He simply said, ‘In a meeting. Take a cab.’ Tess suspected he didn’t even take the time to write it. They were the words of Mrs. Barrington, his long-suffering assistant, or his office mother as Tess liked to call her. To Tom, she was always Mrs. B, a name from his childhood that stuck. She wanted to retire but Tom pouted and she relented. Her husband died young and with no children of her own, Tom was the nearest thing she had to family. She watched him grow during his years of weekly visits to his Dad’s office. And when he died, she helped Tom settle into the family business. She was his anchor, kept him grounded when his grief threw him off course and rendered him near incapable of making sensible decisions. She kept him fed, and fuelled on tea, and protected from unwanted callers. As the years went by, she saved him from dodgy dealings and disastrous dates. Tess was certain Tom only proposed to her with Mrs. B’s approval. And now she was annoyed that Mrs. B hadn’t made Tom realise how wrong it was not to pick up his heavily pregnant wife from the airport. It was illogical of course. It was not Mrs B’s responsibility to make Tom stop working. That was a decision only Tom could make. When he was caught up in a work challenge or drama of some kind, nothing could compete with his determination to fix it. She begged him to go to Ellen’s funeral with her but he wouldn’t take time off. Tess replayed the conversation in her head as she walked through the busy airport.

‘She’s dead , Tom. Ellen’s dead. How can I go to her funeral alone?’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t go. The baby’s due in six weeks. I don’t think the doctor will let you fly. Anything could happen. Ellen wouldn’t want you and the baby to be at risk. Her family wouldn’t want it.’

‘Dublin is an hour away and I spoke to the doctor and she’s fine with it as long as I take it easy and have someone with me.’

‘That someone isn’t me.’

‘But she’s my best friend, Tom. You loved her too. Don’t you want to see her?

‘She’s dead Tess. There’s nothing to see but a corpse. It’s not Ellen. She’s not there. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.’

Tom had not been to a funeral since his Dad died. Tess hadn’t known him without grief. When they met, she thought his serious and sensible 35-year-old self was as he had always been. As she mulled over this, she accepted his grief was still the biggest driver in his life. It wasn’t healthy. He needed professional help before the baby was born. How could he be the father he wanted to be if he was still bound to the death of his own? There wasn’t much time, six weeks. Maybe a bit longer if the baby was late. If he went to a therapist twice a week, he might make some progress…

And on that very thought as she crossed the road outside Arrivals, the loudest explosion she had ever heard shattered glass and knocked her over. Thinking about it brought her back to the moment.

‘I’ve lost my phone.’

She realised she’d said it out loud and her kerbside neighbour looked at her apologetically.

‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t hear what you said.’

‘I need to phone my husband and my phone was in my hand as I left the terminal and now it’s gone.’

‘I wish I could help but my battery’s dead.’

They both looked around hoping someone could help but realised they were the only two seemingly unscathed by the event.

‘We’ve been very lucky. Someone is looking down on us.’

‘That’s exactly what I thought.’

He smiled and offered his hand to introduce himself.

‘Gerry Turner. Pleased to make your acquaintance.’

‘Tess Hinkley. Pleased to meet you.’

‘I’m sure your husband has heard about this. An explosion at Heathrow is big news. Once an ambulance arrives, you’ll be able to get a message to him. Don’t worry about it. He’s sitting in his car now, listening to the radio and getting the details about how it’s mostly walking wounded. At least, that’s how it looks from here.’

Tess looked around and it was true everyone near them was awake but injured, and sitting or lying on the ground. The situation across the road was less clear.

‘I think some people in the building must have died. We’re too calm. We should be doing something.’

‘There’s nothing we can do Tess, except wait for the emergency services.’

‘I could have died. I should be crying or hysterical or something.’

‘Well you didn’t die. So it’s perfectly okay to sit here and be thankful. And I’m sure your baby is fine too.’

‘Yes, it is. I feel it moving.’

‘Thank goodness for that. What a relief for you. When are you due?’

Talking suddenly seemed like a helpful thing to do.

‘In six weeks. I suppose travelling was a bit of a risk but I had to go to Ireland for a funeral. My best and oldest friend, Ellen.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘A car accident. She was only 38. They say it happened so fast, she didn’t suffer. My husband, Tom, he didn’t want me to go. Too close to the birth, he said. But the doctor was okay with it.’

‘Well, they know about these things. And going to the funeral and seeing her lying there, I’m sure that helps with the grieving, easier to work through it. Not easy mind, just a bit easier.’

‘That’s what I’m hoping. It was a lovely funeral if there can be such a thing. Her sister gave a wonderful eulogy, captured Ellen’s fun nature, and her kindness, and her absolute stubbornness. It’s hard to believe she’s gone. And I wish I could have just one more conversation with her, to say goodbye.’

‘Yes, I know that feeling. At my age, I’ve been to quite a few funerals in recent years and I think a quick and painless death is better for the person dying but harder on those left behind. There is no moment of ending. When did you last see her?’

‘She came to London three months ago. We had great fun, minus the usual drinking and dancing. But she was okay with that. She made the weekend all about me and the baby. She was so excited for me.’

‘That’s a lovely memory to have. It was your goodbye, and a good one at that. And maybe take some comfort in knowing she died instantly. There’s a lot to be said for it.’

Tess found this oddly reassuring.

‘I suppose there’s something in that. But I wish I could hug her and wish her a peaceful end. Is that daft?’

‘Not a bit. When a loved one is dying and in pain, it’s hard to watch but it’s made bearable by having time to say goodbye. That’s the trade-off. Sharing memories and laughs. And putting affairs in order, you know, the will,  the funeral plans, and all that. But there’s so much suffering. It’s a different kind of death because you see the pain and you want it to stop but you don’t want them to go. And that’s very hard for everyone. But a loss is a loss however it happens.’

‘Have you had that experience?’

‘Too many times, I’m afraid.’

Gerry coughed and looked away, just for a second, but Tess noticed.

‘Oh I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.’

‘That’s quite alright. I flew down from Aberdeen to help a very old friend who’s been diagnosed with cancer. She’s got a few months left, maybe a year. She says it’s a burden turned into a gift. She’s so very positive in spite of it all. We lost touch years ago. A stupid falling out when we were young and in love and both too stubborn to fix it. She married someone else but he died a few years ago. I never married and when she was diagnosed, she looked for me. And I’m very glad she found me.’

‘That’s lovely, and sad.’

Tess’s eyes filled up and Gerry sensed it was time to change the subject, for his sake as much as hers.

They both noticed the smoke clearing and could see people lying unmoving across the road. There was nothing they could do given their limitations.

‘Do you know what you’re having?’

‘No. I want the surprise.’

‘Good idea. Any names picked?’

‘We were thinking of James for a boy. Not sure about a girl.

‘James Hinkley is a fine name.’

‘Hinkley is my name. I didn’t feel the need to change it when we got married. But the baby will have Tom’s name, Greenaway.’

‘Tom Greenaway? He’s not an accountant in Ealing by any chance?

‘Yes he is. How very strange. Do you know him?

‘My friend that I’ve come to visit, June, she works for him. June Barrington. Do you know her?’

‘Of course I do. Mrs B is like a mother to Tom. O God, we’d no idea she was sick.’

Tess immediately thought about how Tom would react to this devastating news.

‘I’m so sorry Tess. And June won’t be too happy with me. It’s not my information to share.’  

‘You weren’t to know. You’ve done nothing wrong. Mrs. B will be fine with it. Wait and see.’

Tess suddenly felt uneasy. She wasn’t sure if it was the physical discomfort of sitting on a suitcase close to the ground or the thought of Tom being overwhelmed by grief and utterly useless to her and the baby. Unease turned to guilt. Mrs B is dying, she thought, and I can only think about myself. She decided that while it wasn’t her finest moment, it was okay to be selfish on behalf of her baby. She sighed, and the swoosh of relief she thought she felt was the gush of her waters breaking.

‘Gerry, I think my waters just broke.’

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph and all that’s holy. Don’t panic now. Stay calm Tess.’

‘I am calm Gerry. I think it’s you who’s panicking.

‘Aye, so I am. What will I do Tess? Tell me and I’ll do it.

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Are you in pain?’

Tess was about to say no when a wave of pain took her words and replaced them with a strangled scream.

‘Well that answers that question. Let’s rouse the walking wounded to see what they can do.’

Gerry shouted for help and a few offered their coats. The sirens were louder and the convoy of ambulances was slowly getting closer. One woman suddenly snapped out of her daze and into action. She phoned emergency services to alert them to their exact location in the hope that paramedics would be redirected to Tess. Then she phoned Tom after eventually getting his number from Tess between worryingly frequent and intense contractions. Gerry held her hand and felt frightened and privileged, and a host of other feelings he couldn’t name. The woman with the flaming coat said she’d had three children and none of them came that fast. The first took days, she said. Tess didn’t know if that was helpful or terrifying. She knew her baby was not going to wait days. It wanted out, now. The atmosphere became more animated as people began to chat and check on each other. No one was seriously injured but many were still in shock. A quiet cheer went up as an ambulance drove towards them.

‘You’re going to be alright Tess my girl. Help is here.’

‘Between panting and breaths and screams, Tess smiled.

‘Thanks Gerry. Thanks for helping me.’

The paramedics arrived and took over. Their calm and reassuring presence lightened the mood. They seemed relieved to be met with impending life and not the expected death reported by their control room.

‘I’ll leave you in good hands now Tess. Tom will meet you at the hospital.’

‘Oh you have to come with me Gerry. I need your hand.’

The paramedics agreed. Gerry was the journey birthing partner.

‘Well, that’s a term I never heard before but I’m happy to take on the role.’

Gerry held her hand as the ambulance made its way to the M4. There was nothing to worry about, Emma the paramedic said. Yes, it was a very fast labour and it was rare but not unheard of. Everything was in order and the nearest maternity hospital was expecting her but there was a chance they wouldn’t make it. That was okay, she said. She’d done this before.

Emma was easy going and unphased as she announced the baby’s imminent arrival.

‘This little one is in a rush, going to arrive in the next push I’d say. Are you okay Gerry? Is she squeezing the hand off you?’

‘I have a wee pain in my arm but it’s nothing compared to what she’s going through so I’ll not complain.’

His pallor didn’t go unnoticed but he was not Emma’s immediate concern.

‘One more push now Tess. This baby is nearly here.’

And with that, Tess delivered the only new-born Gerry had ever seen.

‘Well done Tess. What a trouper. What a wonder he is.’

Tess was crying and holding her new little boy.

‘Gerry, meet James Greenaway. James, this is Gerry, the lovely man who helped me.

The baby’s eyes stared bright at nothing, but Gerry looked deep into them and saw love.

‘Well hello James. It’s a pleasure. Welcome to the world wee man’

In the joy and relief of the moment as Tess held her new baby close, Gerry sat back and closed his eyes. Emma saw him clutch his arm but Gerry decided it was a cramp, nothing more. They arrived at the hospital and Gerry promised Tess he’d be back later in the day, with Mrs. B.  He kissed James, and mother and baby were rushed in for the all-important checks.  

Gerry stayed sitting, still smiling at the miracle he witnessed.

‘What an experience that was. One of the best…and such a beautiful baby. ’

‘And such relief to have him arrive safely. You played a blinder Gerry, you really got her through it. But you’ve been through quite an ordeal yourself and I think it might be a good idea to take your blood pressure.’

He didn’t object. And as he held out his arm, his head slumped heavily on his chest and he was gone.  Emma tried to bring him back but there was no point. It was simply his departure time and he went contentedly.