A man sat in one of the orange plastic chairs that were standard hospital issue. Lisa couldn’t see him properly because of her puffy eyes and the low light.
‘You’re awake,’ he said in a deep voice with a pronounced American accent. Getting to his feet, he took the few steps required to bring him alongside her and into the pool of light from the overhead lamp.
Lisa stared up at him and blinked. He was extremely tall and dressed in a dark-green polo shirt and dark-grey chinos. His thick, dark hair needed cutting; it flopped over his brow and curled over the collar of his shirt. It looked messy, as if he had a habit of running his hand through it. Lisa could see the wary expression in his eyes as he looked down at her. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.
Faced with yet another strange face in a day full of strange faces and experiences, Lisa was at a loss. She thought he must be one of the doctors – on a better day she would have been delighted to get one this handsome. But she didn’t want to hear anything more that might add to her problems. Instead she lowered her eyes and followed the impressive length of his legs from his belt buckle all the way down to his tasselled grey shoes.
‘How do you get a pair of trousers to fit?’ she managed to say slowly in a voice that didn’t sound anything like her own. She looked back up at him. ‘Did the shop sew two pairs together?’
He stared at her in shock for a few moments before giving a reluctant laugh. It sounded harsh and cracked slightly in the middle, as if he hadn’t done it in a long time. ‘I buy my clothes at a tall men’s shop in the city,’ he said.
Collecting the chair from the bottom of the bed, he came to sit beside her. Close up, Lisa could see he looked tired and haggard.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked in that wonderful, deep voice.
Lisa eyed him thoughtfully, wondering just where he was going to fit into the puzzle. She realized the calmness she felt wouldn’t last. It was just her mind shutting down after everything that had happened that day. She was numb. Frankly, she’d given up caring for the moment, which was why she replied indifferently, ‘My head hurts. My leg hurts. Oh, and they stuffed some suppositories up my backside this afternoon. Apart from that, I’m absolutely bloody marvellous.’
She could tell she’d shocked him again. He laughed reluctantly, but his eyes were troubled, as if he couldn’t work something out. Lisa looked back at him sympathetically. She felt like telling him she couldn’t figure it out either.
‘Do you know who I am?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Lisa stared back listlessly. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Uh huh.’ He tilted his head as if he were listening to her very carefully. ‘You don’t recognise me at all?’
Lisa went to shake her head but changed her mind when pain stabbed her in the temples. ‘No,’ she said with difficulty. ‘Why? Are you famous?’
He smiled fleetingly, showing strong, white teeth. ‘I’m Dan,’ he said, watching her reaction closely. ‘Dan Brogan.’
Treacherous tears began to pool in her eyes. Lisa was amazed she had any left. She took a shuddering breath. ‘Nice to meet you, Dan.’
His grey eyes continued to watch her keenly. ‘Sssh. Don’t cry,’ he soothed. He snagged a couple of tissues from the box on the locker and handed them to her.
‘Am I s’posed to know you?’ Lisa asked wearily after she’d blown her nose.
‘Mmm hmm.’ His expression was tinged with irony.
‘Are you one of my doctors?’
He shook his head.
She decided to take the plunge. ‘Who do you think I am, Dan?’
Once again he seemed fascinated by her voice. Lisa got the feeling it intrigued him just as much as what she was saying.
‘Don’t you know who you are?’
‘Oh I know who I am,’ Lisa replied bitterly, her voice beginning to slur again with tiredness. She just couldn’t seem to get the hang of shaping words with Linda’s mouth. ‘It’s just a matter of who everybody else thinks I am.’
Dan Brogan frowned. ‘OK, you’ve lost me.’
‘Tell me who you think I am!’ Lisa burst out in frustration, then wished she hadn’t because it made her head throb.
‘You’re Linda,’ he replied quietly. ‘Linda Brogan.’
Clutching her aching head, Lisa stared at him in dismay.
Brogan.
Maybe he was Linda’s brother.
‘Are you and Linda related?’ she asked, guessing that the way she was referring to Linda in the third person was the cause of the confusion in his eyes.
He searched her face intently for several moments. ‘I’m your husband, Linda.’