by Daisy Tate
‘Sorry, sorry,’ Raven returned to the syncopated pulses as Sue painstakingly drove backwards until, mercifully, the lane widened enough to do a tortuously jerky seven-point turn until, at long last, they could drive forward.
‘Oh my god, my arms!’ Raven screamed in frustration. ‘Flo, we’ve got to switch. My arms have gone numb. Sue? What the actual fuck? Why aren’t you driving?’
‘I—’ Why wasn’t she driving? She had a life to save. An actual life that was barely being kept afloat in the back of a muddy, cold, industrial van.
This wasn’t the way Becky’s life should come to end. Becky’s life shouldn’t come to an end at all.
In the back Raven and Flo began bickering about how long they should keep up compressions.
‘Thirty minutes,’ Sue said.
No one acknowledged her.
The bickering continued.
A force she had never known she possessed surged through her like lava. ‘Thirty minutes!’ She said, jamming the van into gear. ‘Now think of solutions! Actual solutions!’
Flo and Raven stared at her, jaws agape.
‘Why aren’t you doing compressions?’
Raven took over again as Flo continued to stare at Sue as if she’d never properly seen her before.
‘What would you do on the aeroplane, Flo?’ Sue demanded.
‘We have an AED kit and we’d call for a doctor on board. There’s almost always a doctor on board.’
Flo and Raven threw helpless little looks around the grey, misty landscape as if one might emerge from the elements in this, their hour of need.
‘There is something that Trevor said,’ Raven began.
‘Oh, dear god, no,’ Flo immediately began to dismiss.
‘Let. Her. Speak,’ Sue ground out.
‘It’s a real thing,’ Raven said, looking both terrified and intensely keen to prove Trevor’s nugget of information just might be their saving grace. ‘I looked it up after. A guy was having a heart attack in an ambulance in Chicago and he was dying and they couldn’t get him back, not even with the AED, and they were speeding along and hit an epic pothole and kablam!’ She raised her hands which Flo promptly grabbed and put back on Becky’s chest. ‘The pothole saved his life.’
‘So … I need to hit a pothole?’ Sue’s eyes darted between the road and Raven.
‘You need to hit an epic pothole. And as far as I can remember, there weren’t any on the road here.’
‘Do you want me to do it?’ Flo asked.
Raven and Flo both shouted ‘no’ which Flo felt a bit bad about, but Sue’s driving was erratic at the best of times and they didn’t need to turn an already bad situation into four fatalities.
‘So … what exactly do I need to do?’ Sue’s eyes connected with Raven’s.
‘You need to find some uneven ground. But not the flooded bits of the road. And then when you see a sleeping policeman or a pothole or whatever … cane it. Cane it until Becky’s heart starts again.’
‘Okay,’ said Sue. ‘Got it.’
She gripped the steering wheel so hard her hands felt as though they were melded to it, then set off at a speed no one would have recommended on these slim, wet, country lanes. Gary would’ve whooped with admiration. Gary would’ve said, ‘I knew you were made of fire, Suey! No one else ever believed me when I told them, that girl’s made of fire, but I always knew it!’
But Gary wasn’t here anymore. It was Becky’s life that needed saving today. Becky, who had been with them throughout this long, difficult journey. Always encouraging. Always supporting. Never once letting any of the exhausted (Raven), grumpy (Flo), or dispirited (Sue), riders dim her smile.
Sue crested a hill and what she saw ahead spread out before her made her heart sink. The banks of the creek they’d been riding along had burst and at the bottom of the steep hill … a lake sprawled out where the road had once been.
She looked to her left.
Woodland.
She looked to her right.
A sheep field awash with rocky outcrops and a load of sheep.
A few metres down there was an open field gate. Sue gunned it, yanked the van into the field, pressed her foot as hard as she could, weaving in and out of clusters of startled sheep, silently telling them there was a life at risk and that they would be okay. With steely eyed determination, she pressed down on the accelerator, aiming the van towards a rocky looking bit further up the hill. A hill which may or may not end on a cliff. She didn’t know. She couldn’t see. She felt like Thelma and Louise, but not with a death wish. More like, a life wish. Full, rich, complicated life wishes for her, for Becky, for Flo, for Raven – for everyone. She pressed her entire bodyweight onto the accelerator pedal, praying to everything that was good in the world, that this would work. ‘Hold on, girls!!!!!!’ They crested the hill and as Sue felt the tyres lose their connection with the earth, Flo shouted, ‘I’ve got a signal!’
OPENING SEQUENCE: BRAND NEW DAY
GRAPHIC: HADRIAN’S WALL SPECIAL WITH BRAND NEW DAY’S KATH FULLER
VISUAL: Kath riding her bicycle, Kath talking to riders, Kath hugging Sue, Kath holding up Flo’s arm in an ambulance as if she’d won a gold medal, Kath giving a foil-blanket-wrapped Raven a fist bump, interior shot of a pale, but smiling Becky receiving a bouquet of flowers from Kath, Sue, Raven and Flo with doctors applauding in the background.
VOICEOVER: When I first came up with the idea of riding my bicycle along Hadrian’s Wall in support of LifeTime, I thought it would be a doddle. A bit of a laugh. Something most of our viewers would mute until my husband Kev’s pieces from South Africa aired. After all, who wouldn’t want a holiday in one of the world’s top ten destinations? Wine, sun, sand, sea and hot beach volleyball players … I thought this was something I would do alone.
CUT TO:
KATH: (helmet under arm) But you proved me wrong.
CUT TO: Exterior: Kath outside Hexham Abbey
KATH: You joined us on our coast-to-coast journey and did so in spades. (Blows viewers a kiss) Thank you. From here. (Presses hands to heart) Truly. Thank you. What I learned about our viewers shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but let me tell you this … I think you’re amazing. Amazingly kind, amazingly generous, amazingly sensitive. To date, we have raised over four hundred thousand pounds for LifeTime, a charity that is there for you. All of you. LifeTime volunteers can advise, support, but mostly, they’re there to listen. I want you to know I am, too. Saying that, I would like you to be the first to know that when we reach the end of our journey this afternoon – it will also be the conclusion of my journey with Brand New Day. From the weekend, I will be … considering my options. But for now! Join us live as our riders prepare to set off for their last epic one … until the next one – which I hope will be even better.
Chapter Forty-Nine
‘And if everyone could lean into the stretch … ahhh … that’s it … well done everybody.’
As lovely as Fola was, there wasn’t a chance in hell Flo was going to be able to cajole her quadriceps into doing anything beyond what they damn well pleased today.
‘How was your interview?’ Sue asked, her head bent towards her knee like the astonishingly flexible thing she was.
‘Fine, yes.’ Quick was what it had been. She hadn’t felt right taking credit for saving Becky Harris’s life. It had very much been a group effort so she’d said as much and then asked the cameraman if she could go now because she had a date with a roll of kinesiology tape. ‘I understand Raven’s got another sponsor wanting to cash in on her Insta-fame.’
Sue laughed, switching legs. ‘Yes. Yes, she has. The most reluctant Instagram star in the world, our Raven, but … she seems intent on saying no to sponsorship and yes to keeping it real. Right!’ She stood up and clapped her hands. ‘I’m going to fill up my water bottles. Can I get you anything?’
A younger body. A gel seat. A journey that was entirely downhill and ended at a fish and chips shack. ‘No, I’m fine. You go on. See you
in Tynemouth, love.’
‘You’re alright to ride on your own?’
‘Happy as,’ said Flo.
Happy as a what or who, she thought as Sue gave her a quick, tight hug, then wandered off into the crowd of cyclists all buzzing with excitement that they’d made it this far and only had thirty-seven more miles to go.
Thirty-seven modern miles.
She sent her bicycle a hooded look, its frame sparkling in the morning sun as if it couldn’t think of a better thing to do than hit the road again. After all. That’s what its job was. A ludicrous stab of envy shot through her. Why couldn’t her life be as simple. Her destiny so straightforward?
She screwed her eyes shut tight and reminded herself she could very easily be lying dead in a morgue if Becky’s van had ploughed over rather than through them.
She gave her cycle a pat.
One more day. One more day of riding and this insane journey would be over. Flo checked her attitude. Given how dark things had turned yesterday, it wasn’t that awful, but … creak creak creak. Despite Fola’s administrations and that rather lovely EMT’s topical pain medication (he’d slipped her the entire tube when the camera crews had left), she was genuinely worried her old bones weren’t up to it. Stuart was right. She needed to retire. Properly. Spend more time with her increasingly distant children. The grandchildren she barely knew. Make friends with the silver surfers and drink decaf coffee. Learn to play … oh dear lord … learn to play bridge.
But it made sense. Particularly after she’d tried to press life back into poor Becky’s heart and failed. Thousands of compressions she’d done, along with Raven, of course. That girl … that girl was someone you wanted by your side in a crisis. 111 didn’t know what they had in her. A shoe-in to replace Rachel Woolley if the woman ever left the call centre which, if Flo were in charge, would’ve happened some time ago.
She and Trevor had been right in the end, about the pothole. Sue had gunned that huge old van up a hill until it took flight and when it had landed with an almighty slam … Becky had blinked up at the two of them as if she were a newborn kitten. A middle-aged, slightly overweight newborn kitten, but there had been an expression of such innocence on her face … such joy … as if the only thing she needed in life was air. She’d looked Flo right in the eye and said, ‘Ginny?’ Then she’d sucked in an almighty breath and passed out again. They’d had quite a palaver determining whether or not they needed to carry on with the compressions or look for another pothole, but two of the tyres had burst and, of course, the mud had begun to absorb the two that hadn’t, but mercifully they had signal by then and a 999 call operator on the other end of the line giving instructions and continual assurances that, as the rain was clearing, an air ambulance was on its way. Perhaps she’d apply for a position on their team—
‘Flo?’ Sue touched her arm and pointed towards the other side of the market square (cobbled!!!) where riders had gathered for their ‘Brand New Stretch’ as they’d taken to calling Fola’s pre-ride sessions. ‘Isn’t that your Stuart?’
And so it was. Her Stuart. Heart hammering every bit as much as it had when she walked down the aisle some forty-odd years ago, she hobbled over to him trying not to betray just how stiff she was. ‘Stu?’ she said, and then, ‘What have you done with Captain George?’ And that’s when she saw what Stu had done. Next to him was a bright red, electric, bicycle built for two with a tented trailer attachment inside of which, on his favourite blanket and with his favourite toy, was Captain George.
‘I thought you might like a bit of company for this last bit,’ Stu said.
Flo threw herself at her husband, hugging him so tightly he eventually wheezed a plea for her to loosen her grip.
‘You saw?’ she asked, hoping he knew she meant the clips on the news from Raven’s Instagram feed of her dragging herself up the hill and then bouncing around the countryside with Becky, the CPR, the helicopter, but most of all the shame that she’d felt for being so daft as to think a ride like this would be a piece of cake. It had been so very hard, and for a thousand different reasons than she would’ve thought. She loved her husband. She needed him. And at exactly the moment she needed him most, here he was, helping her complete a journey she hadn’t realised she needed to make. And she wasn’t talking about Hexham to Tynemouth.
He nodded. ‘I saw.’
‘You came.’
He nodded again, clearly bemused at the astonishment in her voice. ‘Of course I came. You’re my Maypole, aren’t you?’
What? No. Stuart was her maypole. Oh, she chided him for it, the fussing, the bothering, the endless delays until they read the instruction manual properly, but … everyone needed someone in their lives to read the manual, didn’t they? Guidelines existed for a reason. They were, more of than not, very helpful.
‘We haven’t really known what to do with ourselves, George and I,’ Stu said, leading Flo over to George so she could have a proper cuddle. ‘When we saw everything you’d been through, well …’ He pointed at the tandem. ‘We thought you might like a bit of company.’
‘But how did you organise all of this? It was only on the news last night. And when I rang …’
‘When you rang we were already on the road.’
‘What?’
‘We spent the night in Harrogate and got up extra early. Didn’t we, George? Woke up early this morning and hit the ground running … well … in the car anyway.’
‘But Stu? How did you find an electric tandem bicycle after six o’clock in the evening?’
Stuart’s expression turned sheepish. ‘I got it the day you left. About two hours after being in the house alone. George and I couldn’t stand it, could we, lad?’ He reached back and gave the dog’s head a gentle stroke.
‘But … but you’re home all the time,’ Flo said. ‘On your own.’
‘Aye, but … love,’ Stuart’s eyes unexpectedly glassed over as he reached out to take her hand in his. ‘Those times we always knew you were coming back.’
An intense, life-affirming rush of love coursed through her so hard and fast, Flo felt positively light-headed.
‘I love you, Florence Wilson,’ Stuart said. ‘You’re the light of my life and I’d like to keep you round as long as possible.’ Then he leant towards her, and for the third time in his life, kissed Flo in public.
The closer Raven got to Newcastle, the more uncomfortable she felt. And not just because her bum bandages were shifting beneath her four remaining pairs of underwear, two sets of cycling shorts and an outer layer of leggings which were meant to be holding it all in place. No … it wasn’t that. It was fear. Fear that she’d put the wrong Oz at the end of her yellow brick gap year.
It had been eleven months since she’d left college. Eleven long months to focus, earn and hunker down. Fine tune exactly what it was she wanted to do for the rest of her life – or at least university. And did she feel any closer to knowing what that was? Nope. Not a clue. Unless t-shirt flower painter was a thing. Was there a degree in Instagramming? Probably not. She glanced at her odometer. Twenty-odd miles to figure out what she wanted to do with the rest of her entire life or admit that she had, in fact, been a complete idiot not to follow her parents’ advice from the off and that all of this, the jobs, the moving out, the bike ride, had all been a complete and utter waste of a year. Awesome.
‘Hey! Raven! Fancy a couple of ride-a-long friends?’
Raven turned and saw Molly, the school counsellor and a freshly shaven Trevor riding up alongside her.
‘Course,’ said Raven, unusually grateful for the break in her alone time.
‘So!’ began Molly as if she’d rehearsed a little speech. ‘How are you?’
‘You mean after yesterday?’
‘Yes,’ nodded Molly. ‘And … you know … the other days before that.’
Raven went wide-eyed. Was Molly really asking her to talk about the meltdown she’d had the other day? In front of Trevor? She was about to say something like, yeah fine but
it was intense, then reminded herself that she had been Instagramming her deepest darkest thoughts to total strangers for the past few days and that she had received nothing but support in return. More than that, really. She’d received actual sponsorship offers. Which she’d totally turned down because, durrrr, look at the Kardashians.
She glanced over at Molly who looked genuinely interested, and Trevor who had unwittingly enabled her to save a woman’s life and thought … maybe it’s time to try something new. Owning her feelings in front of actual people. So she began to talk. And talk and talk and talk about uni and her parents and how she knew they meant well and that whilst the idea of being a lawyer wasn’t completely reprehensible, it wasn’t really the float to her boat, not like her art was, which, to be honest, she knew was alright, but not exemplary or groundbreaking like Van Gogh or Picasso or Banksy all of which, weirdly, made her think of Dylan who, no, wasn’t her boyfriend but an actual mate, maybe even her first mate ever, like genuine mate, because so often in school you thought someone was your friend who wasn’t really your friend which of course she had considered herself to be one of Aisha’s friends but actually what they had been was loners who had recognised a pot and a kettle and then not done anything about it even when Aisha had totally needed her to call the kettle black which wasn’t really the analogy she was going for, but they got what she meant, right? She should’ve stepped up. She should’ve stepped up and she hadn’t and even though things hadn’t turned out completely brilliantly for Aisha at least she was alive and knew she was loved by her family which was something she was beginning to understand about her own family all of which made her extra conscious that when she made friends in the future she would definitely step up when necessary even if did scare the absolute crapola out of her which, to be honest, after yesterday, fewer things than she thought scared the crapola out of her, except, of course, disappointing her parents which was really the biggest fear she had because even letting Gandhiji down felt less awful than the idea that her parents would never be proud of her which, now that she had had a lot of time to think about it, really was her worst fear. Worse even than climate change which was also ranked right up there in the realm of things that were too freaky to think about, so instead she nattered on about her parents, their shop, their customers, her siblings, their children and everything she hoped they would do together as a family like ride alongside this beautiful river, through incredible parklands like these – look! – did they see the wild ponies? – and maybe, one day, she and her family would be like one of these families walking their dogs and jogging and yes, even cycling, although she wasn’t so sure her father would really like the cycling but maybe they could do something else so that they could do whatever it was together, and she began to run through the options of activities her father might enjoy until first Trevor and then eventually Molly, excused themselves and Raven was once again riding on her own looking at the world around her as if seeing it for the very first time which, she realized, as a fizzy burbly excitement effervesced through her, she was. This was a Brand New Day. And it was epic. Whether or not Newcastle was her destiny suddenly didn’t matter anymore because somewhere, somehow along this journey, a kernel of self-belief had begun to form and grow within her and whichever way her future panned out, she knew she would come out smiling.