“Try it against me instead,” Jem said, and felt a flush of heat in her cheeks as the officer’s gaze wandered over her.

“Yeah, as if you’re a fair comparison.” The officer widened the left leg, seemingly on a whim, and slung everything across her shoulder. “Your mate going to lend us his muscles?” she asked as they walked to the side of the bridge, careful not to trip on the rope they’d secured around a lamppost.

Jem glanced back at the ambulance. She could see the puff of smoke marking Trevor’s position on the far side of the vehicle. Out of sight, out of mind. She had literally taken the rope, and he was hoping she’d hang herself with it. Ignoring a renewed bout of fear, she coughed through the wheeze that had started to accompany her every breath.

“I think we’re on our own,” she said.

The officer shrugged, unfazed. “We’ll manage. I bet you’re stronger than you look.”

Jem smothered another cough. Nothing could be further from the truth. On a good day she could dead lift the defib and the response bag, but not when she was scared shitless and needed her inhaler. She wanted to run to the ambulance, lock herself in the cab, and wait for the experts. Instead, she concentrated on breathing through her nose and knelt by the officer at the side of the bridge.

“You still with us, pal?” the officer shouted, directing her torch at the man. Jem realised how young he was: twenty-five at most, and sober enough now to appreciate his predicament.

“Hey, what’s your name?” she called. “I’m Jem, and this is…” She looked at the officer.

“Rosie.” The officer raised a hand to underscore her introduction.

“Sean. My name’s Sean.”

“Okay, Sean.” Jem took the strap attached to the harness and began to feed it down. “Without loosening anything that’s holding you, we need you to grab this and get into it.”

He watched the multicoloured contraption descend, his eyes so wide that they flashed like twin moons against the darkness surrounding him.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. How am I supposed to get into that?”

“One leg at a time,” Rosie suggested helpfully. She pulled on a pair of leather gloves and gathered the lamppost rope.

“He’s giving it a go,” Jem told her. Despite his protest, Sean had wriggled a foot through the first loop, and she was manoeuvring the guide strap to inch the second loop into position. He caught it with a toe and yanked it up his leg. Jem saw Rosie’s stance widen as she took the strain, and she sprinted across to help her, grasping the section in front of Rosie and hauling on it.

“Keep going,” Rosie said, her breath puffing warm on Jem’s neck. “Keep going, you’re doing great.”