In the house she collected a damp flannel and towel, a clean cloth and some water.
She wiped his face and neck then made him drink some water. She wrapped the cloth around the cut and pinned it in place. Then she brought her car as close to the lawn as she could and chivvied Dave until he got to his feet. She made him walk to the car.
He was unsteady and she knew if he keeled over she had no chance of shifting him, but thankfully he got to the car and she steered him into the passenger seat.
At the hospital she could feel the fury and frustration scalding inside her as they waited for him to be seen and stitched up.
The staff were practical, distant, unsmiling as they asked their questions and cleaned and sewed the wound and gave him the tetanus jab and Gill knew there was a subtext: here was a man who couldn’t hold his drink, who was only in A &E because of his drinking, who had brought injury on himself. A pisshead. It was clear from the smell of him and the sight of him with his bleary, bloodshot eyes and from his behaviour, the clumsy gait, the long pause before he replied to any questions, marshalling the words in the right order, the vacant smile he switched on at seemingly random moments to show what a good guy he was. Like the police, a great many of the people they dealt with in A &E were off their heads.
Back home in the depth of the night, she showed him to the sofa. He’d stopped nodding off but was quiet, avoiding eye contact. She imagined the tide of shame was rising, washing over him in ever larger waves. She made him tea, brought him paracetamols.
He thanked her, his voice whispery.
‘You could have drowned in your own vomit,’ she said, ‘or bled to death, another inch and it would have been an artery. Look.’ She swiped at her phone, pulling up the picture. ‘Look. Proud of that?’
His mouth tightened and he looked away.
‘It stops now,’ she said. ‘You’re obviously incapable of dealing with it yourself so in the-’
‘I’ll ring round tomorrow,’ he said, ‘find a clinic.’
‘You do that.’
He gave a nod and she went upstairs.
She ached everywhere, the shock and upset had lodged in her spine and her limbs making it impossible to relax, to rest. She lay awake, her mind circling around Dave and the grief he’d brought to her door, around the case and the muddle of it all, and in the end she gave up on sleep. She showered and dressed and watched the sun rise over the hills and heard the birds greet the new day, hoping it would be a damn sight better than the one that had gone before.