Page 86 of Never Tear Us Apart

Just behind his head, I see a pale, taut hand reaching out of the rubble – a mother reaching for her son.

‘I don’t know, darling,’ I lie. ‘When you are at hospital, everything will be sorted out.’

‘I’m scared,’ he tells me. ‘And cold.’

‘I know.’ Wriggling closer to him, I ease my arm under his neck, holding him in a kind of embrace. I stay with him amongst the rubble, just as one day I will stay with a dying girl whom I cannot save. But perhaps, here and now, I can save this boy.

Raffa doesn’t fight, but his whole body trembles.

‘Honestly, I’m scared, too,’ I tell him. ‘But guess what? I was trapped in a collapsed building once, and it all turned out just fine. We are in this together, Raffa. You and me.’

‘I wish my mummy was here,’ he whispers.

‘The doctor gave me this medicine to help you go to sleep and stop you feeling any pain. All you have to do is breathe it in. It will smell a bit funny, but pretty soon you will be asleep, and then they can get you off to the hospital. Is that all right?’

‘Will you leave me when I’m asleep?’ he asks. ‘I don’t want to be alone.’

‘I won’t leave you,’ I promise him. ‘I will stay with you until I know you are safely in the ambulance.’

‘Will Mummy be at the hospital?’

‘I don’t know, darling. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.’ I tell him lies in a calm, soothing voice. ‘Now, we need to get you safe. Will you let me put this cloth up to your nose and mouth, and we’ll take some deep breaths together?’

‘Maia?’ I hear Stella’s voice from the other side of the rubble. ‘Time is pressing.’

With some difficulty, I uncork the bottle one-handed and pour a little onto the pad. I have no idea if it’s too much or too little, so I pour a little more.

‘Ready to get out of here?’ I ask.

He nods, and I hold the cloth in place. His gaze is fixed on mine. I press my lips to his temple.

‘I’m right here with you,’ I tell him. ‘Let’s count backwards from ten, nine, eight . . .’

His stiff body flops in my arms.

‘Raffa? Raffa?’

He draws a deep breath.

‘Now!’ I call out to Stella on the other side of the rubble.

I keep my lips against his temple and my arm around him as she works, feeling the slight tugs at his little body. Then his complexion drains to white. I can smell hot blood in the air.

‘Stretcher, now!’ she shouts.

Then there are men lifting him out of the wreckage. I feel arms half-lift, half-drag me clear, too. I try to run, but somehow my legs won’t work. Three men all but throw me onto the road as the roof falls in behind us, dust enveloping everything in a cloud of white. I inhale, lungs full of pulverised stone, looking frantically around for someone I know. A small figure rushes at me, arms flung around my neck: David, with Sal just behind him, pushing the pram.

‘He’s gone to hospital?’ I ask, wiping at my watering eyes.

‘Yes, the doctor is with him in the ambulance.’ His eyes are bright with tears as he watches me rock David back and forth. ‘You did well, Maia – you helped him.’

‘I hope he makes it, poor kid,’ I say.

‘I am glad you are all right, Maia,’ Sal says. ‘May I embrace you?’

‘You may.’

We hug one another tightly, David wriggling his way into the gap between us.