TOYL

an argument, even. The man was looming over Richard, just staring. And he was still doing just that, a good thirty minutes later. There was a time when Mary Donahue would never have thought the worst of anyone in hospital. But it was different now. Things had changed the night a drugged-up patient attacked her with a used syringe. Thank God the blood tests had come back negative. It had been hard returning to work two months ago, but she had done it. But it wasn’t surprising that the experience had changed her perspective on life.
    ‘Everything okay?’ Mary asked, entering the private room but being careful to wedge the door open. She hoped that her question sounded relaxed, even if she wasn’t.
    The man didn’t react. It was as if he was the one in a coma.
    ‘Everything okay?’ She tried again, this time her voice faltering.
    ‘Oh, fine, fine,’ he said, returning to life and seemingly shocked to notice her standing at the door. He raised himself up and blinked a couple of times, rubbing his face.
    ‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked. ‘I can do you a tea or coffee. Might not taste that great, but it’s wet.’
    Her smile wasn’t returned.
    ‘I’m okay,’ he said, looking anything but.
    ‘Are you a relative?’
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘Friend of the family.’
    ‘It’s difficult isn’t it,’ she observed, looking at Richard and then back at the unnamed man. ‘Knowing how to deal with someone in a coma.’
    ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Will he recover?’
    ‘Impossible to tell, really,’ she admitted. ‘But there’s always hope. Some people do make a complete recovery.’
    ‘Will he remember everything?’
    ‘Coma survivors often have some form of memory loss,’ she said, being careful not to get this man’s hopes up by referring directly to Richard’s case.
    The man turned to look at Richard. It was then that Mary stole a glance and noticed that he was grasping something in his right hand. It looked like a piece of plastic – a cord, maybe. Her body stiffened as the man’s attention shot back to her, noticing where she had been looking. His fist tightened around whatever he was holding.
    ‘I’d better go,’ he said, lowering his head and striding out of the room, brushing past her.
    Mary stood aside and let him go, unchallenged. She was in no position to do anything else – the man had towered above her slight frame. But she could do something now. She moved out of the room and watched as the man disappeared through the double doors. Then she hurried over to the nursing station and picked up the phone.
    ‘Hello, security? Nurse Donahue here on Ward 23. You wanted me to let you know if anything suspicious happened up here with Richard Carlton…’

    ***

    Emma thought about going to the hospital to see Richard, but visiting hours had long since ended. Instead she headed back to her apartment. She needed to sort things out with Lizzy, but tonight wasn’t the night to do it. It was best to let the dust settle and take stock in the morning. She closed the door behind her and went around the apartment, flicking on all of the lights. It wasn’t environmentally friendly, but it made her feel a bit better – a little safer. Then she ran a bath and made a cup of tea.
    The intercom buzzed shortly after she had slipped into the bath. She remained there, her desire to soak in the warm water outweighing her desire to find out who it was. She closed her eyes and dipped her nose towards the water line.
    Then the intercom buzzed again, and again. It became more insistent. So much so that Emma began to worry about who it was. And whether they were in trouble.
    Could it be Dan? Or Lizzy?
    She climbed out of the bath, wrapped a towel around herself and pattered out into the hallway, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake. A chill whipped around her bare shoulders and legs as she reached the intercom. It buzzed again just before she could speak.
    ‘Hello? Who is it?’
    She waited, but there was no answer.
    Again, the buzz – this time slightly longer than before.
    ‘Hello?’ she said again.
    Silence.
    ‘Look, if this is someone just messing around you can just go to…’
    ‘Help me,’ a weak, barely audible voice interrupted.
    ‘Dan?’ Emma shouted. ‘Is that you?’
    ‘Help me,’ the voice repeated in its deathly whisper.
    ‘Dan?’
    ‘Quickly,’ the voice said.
    Emma raced into the bedroom, dropping her towel and grabbing her training outfit. She dressed and then headed