Axel Klak leans forward and grabs hold of the desk with both hands, as a signal that she has taken up enough of his precious time.

Karen stands up.

‘And you haven’t heard from any relatives?’ she says with one hand on the door handle.

‘Sadly, no. Granted, at the moment, it makes no difference to the patient’s condition, but eventually, the support of his loved ones could play a significant role in a potential recovery. If you manage to locate someone, that would be good.’

*

Billy Formby’s belongings have been put in a ziplock bag. Wallet, mobile, and keys. That’s it.

‘Well, and there’s a paper bag with his clothes, too,’ the nurse says hesitantly. ‘Would you like to see them as well?’

‘I think we can hold off on that,’ Karen replies, turning the plastic bag over.

Smears of something brown that looks like dried blood on the inside.

‘Yeah, they’re not likely to be stolen,’ the nurse says. ‘As I’m sure you understand, we had to cut everything off him, so he won’t have much use for them himself, either, if he makes it. But that’s everything that was in his pockets.’

‘I need to go through both his wallet and his phone. Would it be all right if I took this with me to the station?’

‘Be my guest. As you know, we have a problem with things getting stolen here at the hospital so I’m sure his things are safer with the police. But you’ll need to give me a receipt, of course.’

Once the document is signed and Karen hands the pen back, the nurse asks: ‘Would you like to see him? The doctor said you could.’

*

A picture of abject loneliness, Karen thinks as she watches Billy Formby through the window. She forces herself to stand there and look at the blond wisps of hair sticking out from under the bandages, the tube disappearing into his throat underneath his Adam’s apple, his bare chest, rising and falling as the ventilator dictates, his scrawny arms. Avoids looking at the screws and hardware in both his legs or at the bag of urine hanging next to the bed.

‘Make sure you wake up,’ she whispers. ‘There are people out here who care about you.’

Chapter 45

45

She has time to register both the quick flash of concern and the smell of paint before the face in front of her splits into a smile.

‘Karen, it’s so good to see you. Come in.’

*