‘Can I have water?’ Leo asks.
Alda nods enthusiastically. ‘Oh, Mr Stephens – I check. This is very good!’ she says, and then disappears from the doorway.
‘Where am I?’ Leo looks to me again.
‘We’re in Rome, Leo.’
‘No,’ he says immediately. ‘Libya.’
‘Libya? No, you were on an embed in Syria. You were medevaced here for treatment after a car accident. Don’t you remember?’
‘No, no…’ Leo shakes his head, but the movement clearly causes him some pain – he winces and his hand lifts towards his skull. I glance at the clock and realise he’s due for medication.
‘It was a pretty serious injury – it’s okay to be confused,’ I murmur, but I’ve already reached for my phone and I quickly draft a group message to our friends and family back home.
Leo is awake and speaking. He is confused, but he’s awake!! And speaking!!
As I hit the send button I feel triumphant. I knew he’d be okay – I just knew it. Leo Stephens has always been the kind of man who laughs in the face of other people’s expectations of him.
‘I’m not confused. I feel fine – except for the headache,’ he says, and he’s staring at me, his brow wrinkled. He shifts on the bed then wiggles his right shoulder around. He was shot there, but that was four years ago and I wonder why that injury would be troubling him now. ‘I was in Libya. I know I was.’
‘It doesn’t matter for now anyway,’ I say, as gently as I can. It’s very late back in Sydney but already my phone is lighting up with text messages as people reply to the good news of his progress. Leo gives a sudden, exasperated sigh and my triumphant buzz fades a little at his arrogance.
It should not surprise me that Leo has woken from a coma with a serious head injury and still assumes that he knows better than me how he came to be injured. One of the things that attracted me to him in the first place was how well he knows his own mind. That same quality has driven me nearly insane over the course of our marriage.
‘Why are you here, anyway?’ he asks, and now I can’t help myself – I glare at him.
‘Seriously, Leo?’
He grimaces and shakes his head, then winces hard at the pain again. I try to suppress my frustration. It is actually a fair question but God, couldn’t he have slipped in a ‘thanks for coming’ somewhere around it?
‘I don’t mean…’ he clears his throat. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It just didn’t seem right for you to be here alone,’ I say after a moment. ‘I can go if you want me to.’
‘Do you live here now?’
‘What do you mean?’ I drop my phone into my handbag and lean low towards him as I clarify, ‘Do I live in Rome? No, of course I don’t. I still live in Sydney.’
‘Well,’ Leo clears his throat and I recognise awkwardness in the way that he is avoiding my gaze. He looks to the roof for a while, then glances at me and says carefully, ‘I mean, thanks – but…’
‘Anne just couldn’t come, Leo,’ I say gently. His mother is petrified of flying, and even when it looked a lot like Leo wasn’t going to make it, I couldn’t convince her to get on a plane. I don’t want to tell Leo that – it would surely hurt him, so I lie about the reason for her absence. ‘She wanted to, but Teresa really needed her – she’s is having a very difficult time with the boys and we weren’t sure how long you’d be here for. And Andrew – well, he’s so busy at the Centre and he’s doing a lot with Tobias in my absence so we couldn’t both be away indefinitely…’
I’m babbling, until I glance at Leo’s face and see that his eyes are wide open and he’s staring at me as if I’ve shocked him. I quickly scan over the words I’ve just said and am confused – although I’m sure he’s disappointed that I’m the only person here, he shouldn’t be all that surprised. His family is a wonderful group of people, but none of them are in a position to drop everything to be at his bedside.
‘Leo? Are you okay?’ I reach onto the bed to touch his forearm and immediately he recoils. I know this makes sense, but it still stings. I sit up stiffly and look away, hoping he can’t see how much the rejection hurts me.
‘Call the nurse for me?’ he asks stiffly. I assume something is medically wrong and so I reach for the buzzer and hit it with urgency.
‘What is it, Leo? Can you tell me what’s wrong?’
Leo looks towards the door and is visibly relieved when another nurse appears. I am relieved too, because it’s Edmondo, and his English is excellent. He is carrying Leo’s pain medication and a large glass of water.
‘Sorry for the delay, Mr Stephens – we had to check with the doctor if you could start oral fluids. Is everything okay?’