‘Wake up, Dad. It’s Dan. Can you hear me?’
Daniel let go of his father’s hand and sat back in his chair and checked his watch. It was 10 a.m.
‘How long has it been now?’ asked his aunt who was sitting on the other side of the bed.
‘Two hours since they started reducing the sedation and about fifty minutes since he’s been taken off it completely.’
His aunt pursed her lips and then stood up. ‘One of the nurses said she was coming back to help wake him up. Why don’t I go see where she is?’
Daniel sat beside his father, listening to the ventilator, as he watched his aunt through the glass, talking to the nurse at her station. And then he sat forward on his chair.
‘Wake up. You need to start getting better. I’m running out of time to find someone. It won’t be my fault if Mason writes your name down in his little black notebook.’ Daniel bunched his legs up to his chest and watched his father over the tops of his knees. ‘You don’t know what he’s like.’ And then he put his forehead against his legs. ‘I won’t watch,’ he said quietly. ‘I won’t tell anyone you’re faking it. It can be our secret. Tell me how to do it. Tell me how I can vanish like you and not care about anything.’
But not a word from the vanished.
When the nurse came to check on Daniel’s father, she stood at the top of the bed.
‘Mr Webb, can you open your eyes for me? Daa-vid. Can you open your eyes?’ She prised one eyelid open with a thumb. ‘David, I’m just going to have a look at your eyes. I’m just going to shine a light in them.’
She shone a penlight into the eye she was holding open, but there was no reaction in the pupil. She looked into the other one.
‘David, your son Daniel’s here for you. Can you feel him holding your hand? Can you squeeze his hand for me?’
But Daniel felt nothing: no pressure, no squeeze and no love. It made his heart tremble inside.