Amy had rushed through everything in the office, piling a load of work on to Gary Cole, the trainee, hoping to God that he was up to the responsibility and wouldn’t let her down. All the art work for the new hotel that was opening on Ely Place was in, and looked fantastic, but she wanted it copied and packed in presentation folders for the directors and marketing people.
‘Gary, everything must look perfect,’ she warned, ‘or Norah will have your guts for garters. She hates sloppy presentations.’
Gary at least had the good grace to look scared.
There was a meeting till 7.30 p.m. with the Ely Hotel management group, followed by a launch party for the brand-new crunchy corn snack called Chippo in the Laughter Lounge. She had worked on the campaign for the past three months and there was already a good, fun buzz about it.
‘Norah, if it’s OK I’ll run and check in on my dad after the hotel presentation, and try and get back to say hello to a few of the Chippo reps and sales people afterwards,’ Amy said. ‘Apparently they are expecting a great turnout now that two of the members of that new boy band Dogz are attending. Rumour has it that they are bringing their model girlfriends.’
‘Well, Chippo’s team will be thrilled with that publicity, but, listen, go see your dad and don’t worry!’ insisted Norah, who to Amy’s surprise had been very supportive since Paddy had got sick. ‘You’ve put a huge amount of work into the campaign and everyone knows that. We’ll have enough hands on deck tonight with Jilly and Gary and young Niamh there. The office will always be here, but your dad and your family need you now, so just go once we finish the meeting.’
Amy didn’t need to be told twice, and once it was clear that the clients loved the glossy package she’d designed to promote their new classy city-centre hotel, she grabbed her things and set off for the hospital.
Amy yawned, suddenly tired. She had barely slept over the past few days, and had spent as much time at the hospital with her dad as she could.
Her mum was fit to collapse with all the worry and stress, and it was so incredible to see the closeness and love between them. The utter patience and care and understanding that her mum showed, as she sat at the side of the bed, talking and humming and keeping her dad company, even if he was almost unconscious asleep. Helen O’Connor refused to go home and sleep or let down her guard lest something happened to him. She was like a sentinel on constant duty watching over him. Paddy had come through major surgery, but the heart surgeon Mr Mulligan had made it quite clear that although he was making good progress he still wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Amy had seen the haunted look in her mum’s eyes, and had never prayed so hard for anything in her life as her dad’s recovery.
She managed to find a place in the hospital’s busy car park and rode the elevator to the third floor. She was exhausted, but would stay for a while with her dad. Ciara had been there most of the afternoon, allowing Helen to have a doze in the chair and go for a sandwich in the hospital’s café. Ronan had promised to come in in a few hours and to stay as late as the nurses would allow him.
Amy was just sterilizing her hands when she spotted Dan coming out of her father’s room. What was he doing visiting her dad?
‘Amy!’ he called, his eyes locking on to her.
She took a deep breath to steady herself as he walked closer.
‘I was just in to see your dad,’ he explained unnecessarily.
‘Thanks, Dan. I appreciate it.’
‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard what had happened. I felt I had to come and see him.’
‘Dan, you know how fond of you Dad is.’
‘Even still?’
‘Yeah, you know Dad!’
‘He tells me he’s weak, but that you can’t kill a good thing!’
‘Trust him!’
‘He must have given you all a scare?’
‘Sure did, but Mum’s been great. She’s barely left his side. She’s just willing him to get better.’
‘They’re a great pair.’
‘They sure are, mad about each other, still in love after all the years. I guess some couples never lose it . . .’ She trailed off, trying not to cry and get upset.
‘Amy!’ He touched her shoulder.
‘Listen, Dan, I’d better go in to Dad, see how he’s doing.’ Amy stepped away from him, conscious of other visitors passing them by.
‘Amy, please can we talk?’
‘I have to see my dad.’ Amy didn’t want to talk to Dan here in a hospital corridor.
She was tired and drained, and couldn’t even think straight at the moment. She had been doing everything she could to avoid the embarrassment of meeting him or bumping into him. She’d shopped in different places, avoided their favourite bars and hadn’t walked near Sandymount Strand for weeks.
‘Well, what about after?’ he pleaded, putting on that entreating hangdog expression that had always won her round in the past.
‘Dan, I don’t know if—’
‘Listen, I’ll wait for you downstairs.’
‘I’m not sure how long I will be.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ insisted Dan. ‘I’ll wait.’
Amy pushed in the door to the small private room. Her dad was resting, eyes closed, his skin almost as white as the hospital pillows. It had been five days since his operation, and he still looked so fragile and weak. The oxygen tube was still in his nose, his legs were encased in white stockings, and he looked shaky and sick.
‘Hey!’ He smiled as she hugged him gently and kissed his forehead.
‘How are you?’ she asked, sitting in a chair positioned right beside his bed.
‘Fine.’ He nodded. ‘Lucy, the staff nurse, had me out walking, and they got me into the shower on my own. I’m bunched after it. I slept for two hours I was so wrecked.’
‘Dad, maybe it’s too much for you,’ Amy said, concerned.
‘Amy, I have to get back on my feet. They get us up moving again as quick as they can. I’ll have to be able to do the stairs here before they’ll let me home.’
‘The stairs!’
‘It seems like Mount Everest,’ he said, sounding dispirited. ‘I don’t know how I’m ever going to get back from this.’
‘Dad, you’re doing great,’ she said, trying to encourage him.
‘I feel shit,’ he confided, ‘but don’t tell your mother.’
‘Did you eat anything today?’ she quizzed.
‘I’m not hungry.’
She knew that her mum was really worried as Paddy had had absolutely no appetite yet.
‘Dan was in with you?’
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘He was in this afternoon.’
‘Dad, it’s night-time,’ she reminded him gently. They’d all noticed he was totally disorientated about time. He had no interest in the news or what was going on, and had difficulty holding a conversation. The staff had reassured them that this was totally normal and told them not to expect anything much for at least two weeks.
‘Someone needs to knock your two heads together,’ he said slowly. ‘I’d do it myself, but I’m as weak as a kitten.’
Amy looked at her hands, playing with the stiff corner of his starched sheet, not trusting herself to say anything. Her dad was sick and confused, and not even able to think or talk properly, but still Dan was in his mind.
‘Mum is looking forward to you coming home,’ she said, trying to change the conversation.
‘She wants me to sleep downstairs.’
Amy didn’t want to let him know that her mum had already discussed this possibility with them all. Helen was terrified of taking him home and what might happen.
‘I’ll sleep in my bed when I go home,’ he insisted obstinately.
Amy smiled. Her dad was generally easy-going and the kind of man you could get around; it rarely happened that he dug his heels in, but when he did he could be as stubborn as a mule.
‘Where’s Mum?’
‘She’s gone to the café.’
Amy could see that he was tiring, drifting off to sleep again, and so she just sat beside him, picking up the newspaper that her mum had left on the locker. He looked so old, so vulnerable. Her dad had always been such a rock. They all needed him and depended on him so much. The thought of anything happening to him was unbearable. He had to get better and get over this operation!
‘Hello, love,’ said her mum, appearing about twenty minutes later. ‘I was down getting a bit of dinner. They had some beautiful hake on the menu, you wouldn’t get the like in the best restaurant in Dublin.’
Paddy woke up again at the sound of her voice. Helen pulled the other chair over beside his bed and took his hand.
‘When you get home, Paddy, that is what I’ll cook. Nice fish and vegetables and healthy brown stuff.’
‘God!’ he groaned.
Amy laughed.
‘There’ll be no more steak every night and fry-ups and mounds of butter. We’ve all learned our lesson!’ insisted Helen O’Connor, half-winking at Amy.
They were hilarious, thought Amy. Even with her dad sick, and after major heart surgery, they were able to laugh and tease each other.
Nurse O’Driscoll came in to check again on Paddy.
‘Time for another go on the nebulizer, Paddy,’ she said, starting it up and slipping the mask over his nose and mouth. ‘We want to make sure to keep that chest clear.’
Paddy was using the nebulizer a few times a day and once during the night, as it was still very hard for him to cough.
‘Amy, why don’t you go home?’ suggested Helen. ‘You’ve got work in the morning.’
‘Mum, I’m fine. I’ll stay with you a bit longer.’
‘No, Ronan’s due in soon, and your dad and I might listen to the radio a bit. There’s a concert from the National Concert Hall on Lyric: we’ll have a listen to that.’
‘Go!’ signalled Paddy.
‘OK, then, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Amy promised, kissing his forehead, and leaving her parents together.
Walking back down the corridor, she was relieved that her father seemed improved since the day before. She’d heard all kinds of stories about people’s reactions after major surgery, and so far it looked like her dad had come through with flying colours.
The lights in the hospital lobby were dimmed, the big reception desk closed, with only the porter at his small desk in the corner, when she spotted Daniel sitting in the deserted admissions area waiting for her.
‘Dan!’
‘I told you that I’d wait for you,’ he said. ‘Do you want to sit down here? It’s quiet.’
‘No, not here.’ She’d had enough of hospital the past few days. ‘Could we go somewhere else?’
‘I’ll drive,’ he offered, as they walked out to the car park.