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“So he’s just sleeping?” Lily asked.
“Not your standard sleep. He’s unconscious, but he’ll wake up as though he’s been in a deep sleep. The time it takes to come round varies depending on a person’s body composition, but people usually wake up groggy after an hour or so, then experience extreme fatigue for anything from twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
“How have I never heard of this before?” Lily asked.
“The plants are rare. They grow mostly in Africa and people tend to give them a wide berth. In recent years there’s been some black-market demand for them.”
“Wow.” Lily wiped her brow with the back of her hand and felt a wave of relief at the sound of sirens in the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” Arthur said, attention back on the plant. “I wonder how it got here.”
“I imagine Gordon is going to want to know the same thing,” Lily said, then sighed heavily.
Apparently, he might have ruffled some feathers with his radio interview.
Chapter Thirty
“We’re in here!”Lily shouted when Flynn called out to her.
He stepped into the office, flanked by two paramedics and Sergeant Proctor.
“Are you okay?” Flynn asked her while the paramedics made a beeline for Gordon.
“Stop!” Lily and Arthur shouted at the same time.
Arthur raised his hands, presumably to stop them from getting injured, but in a gesture that actually looked as though he was protecting the plant.
“We need to get to the patient,” the female paramedic said, irritation rife in her tone.
“You can,” Lily said. “You just need to be careful of that plant. It’s poisonous.”
“I need to move it out of the way,” Arthur said, gingerly dragging it across the desk by the plastic pot.
“I can help,” Flynn said, stepping forward.
“No!” Arthur snapped. “Stay away.”
Flynn looked at Lily, but it was Sergeant Proctor who spoke. “What’s going on? What on earth happened to Gordon? Is he breathing?”
“Yes,” the male paramedic said decisively as he peered at Gordon. “He has a strong pulse,” he went on. “Do we know what happened?”
The other paramedic knelt beside Lily and took a sterile pad from her backpack before easing the wad of tea towels from Gordon’s arm.
“Looks like a clean wound,” she told her colleague. “Deep though. It’ll need stitches. How did he end up unconscious?” she asked, eyes darting from Lily to Arthur, who’d dragged the plant to a safe distance.
“He cut his arm on that plant,” Lily replied. “The poison from the thorn knocked him out like a sedative, apparently.”
The paramedics exchanged a look.
“Arthur can explain,” Lily said, distracted by her bloodstained hands.
Flynn handed her a clean tea towel and she wiped at the blood as best as she could while Arthur filled them in on the plant. She was only half listening as she scrubbed the towel over her hands. Blood was trapped under her nails and in her pores and she became increasingly irritated with her failed attempts to remove it.
“Why don’t we wait outside and let the paramedics work?” Flynn said once Arthur stopped talking.
He took Lily’s arm and guided her into the cafe and to the sink behind the counter. Feeling slightly dazed, she just stood with her hands outstretched while Flynn pumped an excessive amount of soap into them. He rubbed her hands together for her, then gently massaged the soap into every part of her hands. After he rinsed the soap away, he repeated the process.
“Sorry,” Lily murmured, feeling as though she was coming out of a trance when he dried her hand with paper towels.