I wonder if my friend woke up this morning feeling peculiar, I wonder if he felt something wasn’t right, a notional suspicion in his gut. Headache, a stiffness in his hips, an aching jaw, who knows, after a bowl of granola and a cup of green tea any doubts were erased and didn’t seem there was anything to bother about.

We’ve got very little money in the company depending on who you ask. If you read the papers you’d be forgiven for thinking we’ed had record breaking years with the “plan” working and the glossy new CEO flying high, the darling of the particular world he inhabits, in fact the staff were fooled for a time, his sincere insincere pleading on the intranet that he knows how hard it is and how much he feels our pain whilst arriving late for work in his porsche, and parking in one of the ‘EV ONLY’ spots, free charging for visitors from the field if you can find a space not taken by the local EV owners, having their weekend away electricity provided gratis at the expense of those who may have driven hours to be there. So the lack of money, means the inability to be able to afford to hire a back room in a pub or village hall with WiFi for a meeting and as a result we have to find other ways to meet up and quell the loneliness and detachment of a home working field worker; and these are called “Walk and Talk” in which we drive to a spot of beauty and fresh air and we walk around a forest, along a canal tow path, up a hill, round a lake, whatever. I enjoy it because I can take Benny and because no work gets done and invariably if the boss isn’t there we can talk shit and complain for a couple of hours.

Today was no different, not really; we met in a muddy car park in a place called Queens Wood in Dymock, close to a small motorway, but far enough for a junction to make it feel remote. A few dog walkers, Benny was well behaved and seems to get on with everyone, none of whom own canines, and some who politely rebuffed his friendly advances, turning slightly away. The rain held off but it was moist underfoot, days of snow and rain in the previous week still leave their damp shadow. We had walked about a mile and a half, and stopped for the older boys who were enjoying the amble through the woods, no pressure for above, no ever increasing admin to bother with as the sun strained to burn away the gloom. We stopped to take a team photo with the lake as a backdrop, reeds piercing the otherwise still water , the trickle of the overflow spreading across the path to feed the brook for the next stage of its watery journey. We set off again, I looked back and saw my friend who I’ll call “I” to protect his identity, looking upwards and twirling round as if looking up at the skies through the naked branches of the autumnal woodland, but he continued to spin slowly and each time he revolved his eyes were darting anxiously, confused, vacant and then he fell backwards, 6’3′ onto the slimy leaf litter covering the path his neck craned forward provoking a whiplash smash of the back of his head as he hit the path, glasses catapulted sideways spinning towards the ground, lost in the leaves, disguised by their transparency. “I” creased at his belly and his hands clenched hard, eyes closed, jaw shaking as if trying to  chew through a softening toffee, he was convulsing, groaning, spittle was leaking from his mouth, his eyes open but unrecognising, blank, pupils tiny, then they closed and he continued to convulse slower now, like an aftershock post earthquake. money tinkled out of his fleece pocket and his keys soon followed, scattered in a metallic rash across the floor. “A” was on the phone to the emergency services, Myself and “R” had knelt down to move “I” to the recovery position, “AW” was holding Benny, he was sitting down looking at “I”, Doggy worry in his brown eyes. From then we all changed places, “D” took his coat off and took my place, I took my jacket off and “R” removed his, we covered “I” with the coats as he continued to pitch and roll in the dirt. “L” ran off to the car park to meet the ambulance, thoughtfully creating a wooden arrow on the floor indicating the way back to us. “R” was bloody hero, a man who is an army reservist with a complete knowledge of first aid where we only have a rudimental grasp; recovery position, clear airwaves, keep warm and dry, talk to the patient. “R” was asking “I” to grip his hand if he could hear, the lips of “I” were turning blue, he was breathing, but unconscious and still twitching from the fit.

“Marked. Unfocussed. Siesta”  the what 3 words position.

How the fuck do you provide a 6 figure grid reference? Along the corridor and up the stairs. “A” was still on the phone, and then on 2 phones calling our boss. “I” was heaving like a beached whale rolling this way and that, inertia dragging him away from the recovery position, working against us, his body shutting down, the coats muddy, only half covering him, more coats piled on, “D” put his hat on his head, then “L” ran back, to hand over the glasses, the ambulance still not here, but just then a helicopter appeared in the skies above a clearing we ran to the clearing shouting and waving our hands, then the circled round and disappeared, but decending, the rotors slicing the cool air. It was cold, it was damp and our friend was unconscious, the colour had returned to his face and he was still; breathing regularly.

“D” ran off through the woods in the direction of the helicopter and I knelt down to try and speak to “I”, “R” pinching his ear, and holding his hand,

“Can you hear me”I”? Squeeze my hand if you can” 

No response.

A lady with 2 labradors walked past out of nowhere, Benny didn’t even flinch, looking at “I”.

Then finally salvation, 3 paramedics in red boiler suits bedecked with pockets and whiteboards on their legs, appeared through the woods carrying machines, Hi-Vis rucksacks and a stretcher. They settled down next to “I” and set about their business, and we realised we knew some things about “I” but not any of the names of his next of kin or his sister. In the opposite direction a blue light flashed and within minutes a group of 5 Firemen were bunched on the path, talking earnestly with a paramedic. The gate into the woods was padlocked and there was huge boulder in front of it, so lose the padlock, what the hell is the point. 

“A” had finally hung up from the emergency services phone call, and “I” was slowly coming to, groaning and managing to squeeze the hand, eyes flickering open sporadically, unseeing, confused. It took 42 minutes for the air ambulance to arrive, and it was about another 45 minutes by the time we managed to get “I” to the waiting ambulance about 1/4 mile up the track, he managed to walk swathed in damp and leaves of the forest floor and a silver survival blanket, speaking quietly and apologising to us of all things. 

“Sorry Guys” 

It was a tough morning, and as we trudged back to the cars, we walked for the most part in silence, only breaking into chat quietly, thankfully. 

“I” is at the hospital in Hereford now as I write this, his car sits in the car park in the darkness of the wood, and as his phone died his sister arrived with warm, clean clothes.