I decided not to read to him, not wishing to wake him, and so I put the reading material on top of the cabinet next to his bed.
I opened the compartment at the front, thinking it best to deposit the Bags for Life inside.
The cabinet was empty apart from a wallet and a set of keys.
I wondered if I should look in Sammy’s wallet to see if it contained any clues about him,
and I was about to reach forward for it when I heard someone clear their throat behind me, a phlegm-filled sound that indicated a smoker.
“Eleanor. You came,” said Raymond, pulling up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. I stared at him.
“Why did you lie, Raymond? Sammy’s not in a coma. He’s merely asleep. That’s not the same thing at all.”
Raymond laughed. “Ah, but it’s great news, Eleanor. He woke up a couple of hours ago.
Apparently, he’s got a severe concussion and a broken hip. They reset it yesterday—
he’s very tired from the anesthetic, but they say he’s going to be fine.”
I nodded, and stood up abruptly. “We should leave him in peace then,” I said.
I was keen to be out of the ward, to be frank.
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