Someone To Save you by Paul Pilkington Read Free Book Online Page A

to reflect on the nature of what it meant to be a hero. It was like a backstreet psychiatry session in front of an invited audience. He should have listened to Louisa. But one more caller and it would be all over.
    ‘Hi Simon,’ the caller began. ‘Hi Sam, how are you?’
    The sentence was slow and deliberate, like each word was being stretched.
    ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Sam lied, gazing down at the console that curved around him. The headphones were starting to irritate and he longed to rip them off and end this now.
    ‘But you’re not,’ the caller replied, in the same slow drawl. ‘You’re not fine at all, Sam.’
    For a few seconds the comment just hung in the air, as Sam decided how to respond. But before he could speak, Simon stepped in.
    ‘How do you mean, Richard?’ He glanced over at Sam as he spoke, and the excitement in his eyes was clear as he waited for a response.
    ‘I mean that Sam isn’t as fine as he’s making out. We’ve not heard the truth.’
    Sam shook his head. Louisa had been right. This had been a terrible idea.
    Simon moved closer to the microphone, keeping his eyes fixed on Sam. ‘You’re not accusing Sam of lying?’
    ‘I’m not making any accusations,’ the man replied. ‘Just an observation, that’s all. I’m interested to hear what Sam thinks about it.’
    Simon looked over at Sam, giving him an opportunity to respond that Sam felt unable to turn down.
    ‘I’ve answered the questions as honestly as I could,’ Sam said, trying hard not to sound defensive.
    ‘Ah,’ the caller replied. ‘But that’s different.’
    Sam met Simon’s gaze as he moved back towards the microphone – the guy was captivated. ‘I don’t see how.’
    ‘Tell me about what she said, Sam.’
    This was getting totally out of order. Couldn’t the station just cut this guy off? He looked again at Simon. ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
    ‘I think you do,’ he replied. ‘Tell me about what she said to you, just before the train hit. That’s what I want to hear.’
    ‘Err, I think we’ve heard enough,’ Simon said. ‘Thanks for your call, Richard…’
    ‘No,’ Sam interrupted, putting up a hand and leaning into the microphone. He’d changed his mind, now wanting to challenge this individual. ‘I want to know why you think you’ve got the right to ask that, Richard.’
    Simon nodded, taking a symbolic move away from the control console.
    ‘Because I want to be entertained, and you’re not giving me the full show.’
    Sam laughed in disbelief. ‘This isn’t a show.’
    This time it was the caller’s turn to laugh. ‘It’s entertainment, Sam. And you’re the star attraction.’
    ‘I don’t have to listen to this.’
    ‘You think you’re a hero, Sam, don’t you? But you couldn’t save your sister from Marcus Johnson.’
    Sam just sat there, stunned. It felt like someone out of nowhere had just delivered a sharp blow to his gut.
    Simon stepped in. ‘Thanks for all your calls. And thanks to our guest in the studio, Sam Becker. It’s clear from the vast majority of calls we’ve had that he’s a true hero, and a testament to the staff of the health service. Thanks for coming in today Sam and sharing your experience with us. I know it must be really difficult talking about this. Thank you.’
    Sam nodded, the words of the caller lodged in his brain.
    ‘And now time for the traffic and travel with Claire Davies. Over to you, Claire…’
    ‘I’m really sorry about that last caller,’ Simon said, as they both took off their headphones. ‘You get those sorts of people sometimes. We try our best to screen out people like that, but every now and again one slips through the net. You’d be amazed by how many crazies there are out there.’
    ‘It’s okay,’ Sam replied, placing the headphones on the desk in front of him. In truth he felt anything but okay, but he wasn’t about to discuss this with someone from the media. ‘Really, it’s fine.’
    Simon nodded,