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The clinking of cutlery and crockery at the other end of the ward told us that food was on
the way. I d better go. Sounds like supper.
Don t let that worry you. You may get a cup of tea if you re lucky, although I can t promise
it, they watch the pennies on food. I ve never taken out private health cover. I suppose that
firm of yours has fixed something up for you.
Well... yes. You might be able to get a private room here, the charge may not be all that
much. The smell of onions and gravy drifted into the cubicle. What were we talking about?
The accident the collision. The other driver was all right?
I mistakenly assumed he was asking about my parents accident, not my bump in the
Mercedes. Cuts and bruises. That was what seemed so terribly unfair, he killed my mother
and father and got away with minor injuries.
Ah I meant your collision yesterday.
Oh that, sorry. No, a bit of damage to the cars, not much.
You never told me your parents accident had been so... traumatic.
Desirable as a subject or not, my parents deaths had cropped up again. Yes, it got on the
front page of the local paper. A stolen car with the police in chase went through a set of red
lights straight into them. My parents car was pushed off the road, bounced down an
embankment, turned over, and smashed into a garden wall. The bodywork was mangled. We
were told they wouldn t have suffered. The car thief who killed them is probably out of jail by
now, the bastard.
When I looked back at Andrew his eyes were wide open and he was staring up at the
ceiling. Sorry Andrew, are you OK? Shouldn t have been talking to you about all that, not
here. He continued gazing fixedly upwards. Andrew, Andrew, I said more loudly, worried
that he might be having another attack. He seemed not to hear me, and in a panic I hurried
over to the auxiliary nurse who had brought supper. She scurried away to the office at the
other end of the ward to seek help.
A stocky nursing sister came out to examine Andrew, her white tunic stretching over her
substantial bosom. She leant over the side of the bed, her chest pressing down on the
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bedspread. In a high pitched coquettish voice she asked: And how are you feeling now my
darling?
His lips moved slightly as he whispered something to her. She took his pulse, concentrating
on her watch for the required minute, then released his wrist. Food is on its way. Try and
manage some, even if you are tired. She looked up at me and said, Shall I leave you to say
your goodbyes?
Hastily doing as she suggested I followed her down the ward until she stopped at the door
of the office. Will he be all right?
He seems a bit tense; he s had several visitors today, probably been very tiring for him.
Something seemed to happen, he was all right, we were talking normally... then he seemed
much worse.
Ups and downs, you have to expect it. We are checking him every half hour for
observation, so we will know if anything is wrong. His pulse was a little bit fast, that s all. I
expect the last time you saw him he was fit and active. Sometimes simply being in a hospital
bed makes people seem very poorly. Bit of a shock for you seeing him like that?
Yes, that may be it.
Maybe do you good to have a cup of tea or something. There is a visitors refreshment
room on the ground floor. Are you a relative?
No, a friend, the family is not close.
How long will it take you to reach home?
An hour perhaps.
If you like you can ring to ask how he is when you get back. There s no need, as I say, we
are checking him every half hour, but ring up and ask for me if you re still worried about him.
Tom and I went to the hospital together the next day. In contrast to me he was relaxed and
talked easily with Andrew about his friends and staff at Ferns and Foliage. He teased him about
being examined by attractive young doctors and being lifted out of bed by muscular male
nurses. The place seemed to stifle my ability to make conversation. Andrew asked Tom to put
off whatever work he had planned for the coming week to run errands for him, bringing him
paperwork and doing miscellaneous jobs for Ferns and Foliage.
Towards the end of his week in hospital for observation he was conducting business from
his bed using a mobile phone. He was forced to stop when the senior consultant
recommended surgery, and booked the operation for the next day. Arrangements were made
for him to recuperate in a nursing home near Eastbourne in the hope that getting him away
from London would force him to rest, but after a couple of days he had Tom driving up and
down to the south coast with correspondence and was ringing his staff several times a day
with queries and to ask for progress reports.
At Ferns and Foliage the manager, whilst knowledgeable and competent, insisted on sticking
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