Raymond made a strange sound, something between a cough and a sneeze. Sammy smiled kindly at me.
“Is that right? Well, you can tell her yourself, hen,” he said.
“They’ll all be here soon.” A nurse walked past as he said this and had clearly overheard.
She was grossly overweight and was wearing rather attractive white plastic clogs,
teamed with striking black-and-yellow-striped socks—her feet looked like big fat wasps.
I made a mental note to ask her where she’d purchased them before we left.
“There’s a maximum of three visitors to a bed,” she said, “and we’re strictly enforcing that rule today, I’m afraid.”
She didn’t look afraid. Raymond stood up. “We’ll go, and let your family visit, Sammy,” he said.
I stood up too; it seemed appropriate. “No rush, no rush now,” Sammy said.
Shall we return later in the week?” I asked. “Is there a magazine or a periodical you’d like us to bring?”
“Eleanor, it’s like I said—you two saved my life, we’re family now. Come and visit anytime you like.
I’d love to see you, hen,” Sammy said. His eyes were damp, like periwinkles in seawater.
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