TWENTY
CARMINE
It felt as if they’d been in the intensive care ward for days when in actual fact it wasn’t even twenty-four hours. Carmine stared at his father lying there. Wires were all over the place and machines whirred. All playing their part in keeping him alive.
Other families kept silent vigils at other beds nearby. Carmine focused solely on Stefano. As if his own will power would bring him back to them.
Maria and Raoul hadn’t moved either. Monica managed to join them the previous evening, having made a mad dash from London.
For a family usually ruled by noise and merriment, none of them had made a sound for hours.
Around one o’clock on the Saturday afternoon, Stefano began to rouse. Carmine didn’t dare hope that this was a good sign.
He gently moved his mother away as the medical staff checked his father’s vitals. She was trembling as they watched. Transfixed.
“Mr Amato? Can you hear me?”
Stefano blinked rapidly. Then his right hand waved.
“He’s trying to speak,” Maria said.
The nurse removed the oxygen mask.
“Of course I can hear you,” he grumbled. “You’re shouting down my ear.”
As one the whole family let out a sigh of relief. Carmine grabbed his mother’s hand and squeezed it.
“We’ll call the doctor to do more tests. For now, please would you be able to wait in the relatives’ room?”
Carmine nodded. He went to go but his mother appeared to be rooted to the spot.
“I can’t leave him,” she stammered.
“We have to be able to work with him,” the nurse said, squeezing Maria’s arm. “I know it’s hard but he really is in the best hands. I promise you.”
“Come, Mama,” Raoul said. “They know what they’re doing.”
She allowed herself to be guided away by Carmine’s younger brother. He and Monica followed. When they got to the door, Carmine turned. His father was still awake although seemed exhausted.
Is this the last time I see him?
He pushed the idea from his mind. Plenty of people came back from the brink. Hell, Stefano had already done that once. There was no reason to believe he couldn’t manage it again.
The windowless box set aside for relatives had horrible plastic seats and many magazines which appeared to have been leafed through by an army. Carmine made a mental note to send the hospital a ton of new publications.
Raoul settled Maria into one of the chairs. A couple of other families were in there. Mercifully they didn’t appear to want conversation either.
“Shall I get drinks?” Carmine asked.
Maria nodded. “Coffee. Strong.”
Carmine kissed her on the cheek and went for the door.
“I’ll come with you,” Raoul said.
They left Monica with their mother and wandered down the hospital corridor in search of caffeine.
“Did you see a coffee shop when we came in?” Raoul asked.
