CAST your mind back to January 2007: Tony Blair was Prime Minister, Leona Lewis was top of the UK singles charts, the term “credit crunch” held little meaning and Saints were still in the Championship.

But for Simon Field, time might as well have stood still.

For the last two and a half years the 22-year-old from Chandler’s Ford has been in a “minimally conscious”

coma state after a freak fall left him with life-threatening head injuries.

Simon’s family are convinced he is fully aware of what happens around him but he is barely able to move, can’t eat for himself and can only communicate through a system of blinking.

It was in the early hours of New Year’s Day 2007 when the Fields got the call every parent dreads – the news that their son had been found unconscious in a Bournemouth road with serious head injuries.

“We wish we knew exactly what happened,” says Jean, who had dropped her son (an archaeology student at Bournemouth University) at a friend’s house in Bournemouth to celebrate the New Year.

“The next thing we knew there was a policeman at the door. There was a feeling of disbelief. We thought he’d been at a house party and couldn’t understand why he was out in town.”

The impact of Simon’s fall from a roadside kerb slammed his brain into his skull causing potentially fatal injuries and the family were told to prepare for the worst.

Thankfully, an operation to remove a blood clot from Simon’s brain was successful. It was to be the first of numerous brain operations Simon was to endure during his 11-month spell at Southampton’s Wessex Neurological centre – including groundbreaking surgery to remove part of his skull.

As the days turned into weeks with Simon on life support, his family began to realise his condition might be long-term.

On the advice of doctors, Jean began keeping a journal for Simon, first recording significant events in his treatment and then adding family news and current events.

Little did she know the diary would span more than two years.

Even when medics deemed Simon “not cognitively aware” the Fields refused to give up on him, visiting him every day and always involving him in their conversations.

Then, 13 weeks after the accident, Simon opened his eyes for the first time and his overjoyed family noticed a flicker of a response.

“We thought he was blinking when his sister Hannah played a CD,” says Jean. “It was as if he wanted her to play a certain song. We weren’t convinced but we kept trying and we thought he understood what was going on.”

It was then the Fields began to devise their communication system: one blink for ‘no’, two for ‘yes’ and three for ‘thank you’.

“We know he’s in there somewhere,” says Jean. “It must be horrible for him not being able to talk to us properly.”

Remarkably, the family say they can talk about anything as long as they use questions with a yes or no response and the nurses even use Simon’s blinking to determine if he is comfortable.

Another breakthrough came in December 2007 when Simon was taken off life support, making him eligible for rehabilitation.

After 14 months in a coma state, Simon seemed to show further signs of improvement when doctors tried giving him an insomnia drug linked to raising levels of consciousness in coma patients.

Now the 22-year-old has been transferred from a care home to a specialist neurological rehab centre near Salisbury where his family hope he will continue to make progress.

“We’ve taught him the thumbs up sign and we can communicate by using the alphabet,” says Jean. “Often he’ll blink when we get to the letter E and when we ask him if he wants a copy of the Echo he blinks twice for ‘yes’ – he likes to hear about what’s happening to the Saints!

“He’s still got his wicked sense of humour and he can still make us laugh. Sometimes we go in and ask if he’s awake and he jokes with a single blink for ‘no’.

“Each day we’re just grateful that’s he’s still here. He could have gone so many times – he’s had every infection going including MRSA and two bouts of pneumonia but he hasn’t given up and that’s down to his determination and because he knows we all believe in him. He’s not a vegetable and he isn’t paralysed. I believe he is totally conscious but his body won’t move in the way he wants it to.”

When asked about her son’s quality of life Jean falls silent.

“He must be screaming inside,” she says quietly.

“He does get frustrated and when he was flat on his back for ll months it must have been utterly soul-destroying. He must get so bored but his college friends Aaron and Martin have been brilliantly supportive through all this.

“Our goal is whatever Simon can achieve. We’d love to develop a better communication system – ultimately teach him to type – and for him to eat. He’s good at swallowing which is a good sign and sometimes we give him tastes of things, like a spoonful of beer on his birthday.”

The ultimate dream would be for Simon to return home, if only for a couple of hours, but first he must learn to breathe without the oxygen supply he relies on.

“Everyone always asks how we cope but we all treat what we do as the norm. What are you supposed to do, curl up in a ball and hope it goes away?”

Inevitably there are dark moments.

“It was hard at graduation time. My friends moan because their sons come home late and their rooms are a tip… I wish my son was here to leave his room in a state.”

Simon’s dad Andy says his son is never far from his mind.

“If the dog barks in the night my mind goes right back to January 1, 2007, when the dog was barking because there was a policeman at the door,” he says.

“That moment is etched onto our minds.

“We know Simon is not a lost case and nobody has ever given up on him. We always knew it would be a long process because he has to totally re-train his brain. He’s like a computer that needs rebooting – and eventually we think he will.”