For about a minute he did not move, as though he had forgotten I was sitting by his bed. He returned from his reverie and said, 'You did tell me once before that you lost your parents in a car accident. Must have been very hard. Unhappy memories - not always a good thing to go back over them.'
This was the wrong time for me to be talking about a fatal accident. 'That one disaster apart I have to own up to a good start in life, middle-class parents, no major accidents or major illnesses. Although actually I did have a bump in the car yesterday.'
'In that priceless Mercedes? Was anyone hurt?'
'No, a stupid low speed collision. My fault.'
The clinking of cutlery and crockery at the other end of the ward told us that food was on the way. 'I'd better go. Sounds like supper.'
'Don't let that worry you. You may get a cup of tea if you're lucky, although I can't promise it, they watch the pennies on food. I've never taken out private health cover. I suppose that firm of yours has fixed something up for you.'
'Well... yes. You might be able to get a private room here, the charge may not be all that much.' The smell of onions and gravy drifted into the cubicle. 'What were we talking about?'
'The accident - the collision. The other driver was all right?'
I mistakenly assumed he was asking about my parents' accident, not my bump in the Mercedes. 'Cuts and bruises. That was what seemed so terribly unfair, he killed my mother and father and got away with minor injuries.'
'Ah - I meant your collision yesterday.'
'Oh that, sorry. No, a bit of damage to the cars, not much.'
'You never told me your parents' accident had been so... traumatic.'
Desirable as a subject or not, my parents' deaths had cropped up again. 'Yes, it got on the front page of the local paper. A stolen car with the police in chase went through a set of red lights straight into them. My parents' car was pushed off the road, bounced down an embankment, turned over, and smashed into a garden wall. The bodywork was mangled. We were told they wouldn't have suffered. The car thief who killed them is probably out of jail by now, the bastard.'
When I looked back at Andrew his eyes were wide open and he was staring up at the ceiling. 'Sorry Andrew, are you OK? Shouldn't have been talking to you about all that, not here.' He continued gazing fixedly upwards. 'Andrew, Andrew,' I said more loudly, worried that he might be having another attack. He seemed not to hear me, and in a panic I hurried over to the auxiliary nurse who had brought supper. She scurried away to the office at the other end of the ward to seek help.