Muffled words coaxed Andrew Sullivan into consciousness. A softly spoken conversation was in progress. It was too soft; he couldn’t make it out.

Dried and crusty, his eyelids felt as though they were clamped shut. He lifted his hands to massage them into life, but after a confused moment, realised that the instruction had been ignored. His arms remained where they were as if shackled to his sides. He could feel cool, crisp cotton beneath the bare skin of his fingers and calves, which were tightly pinned by a sheet that forced his toes to curl over.

His attempts to speak proved inconclusive as the voices faded away, and everything returned to black.

‘You still here? You should really get some rest.’

Andrew started, shaken once again from murky depths. He heard it clearly that time. It was a female voice, possibly middle-aged, and whoever produced it was very near.

‘Yes,’ croaked a second woman.

He felt pressure lift from his right thigh and a chill cross his knuckles as a warm hand was pulled from his. The second woman cleared her throat. ‘What time is it, nurse?’ she asked.

The light, sweet tones betrayed her youthfulness, and identity. Andrew didn’t need the supporting evidence of the sweet fragrance wafting round him to know it was his partner, Sue.

He tried to speak, but the only thing he managed to produce was a stab of excruciating pain, which pulsed from his head and rippled through his body. It stopped as quickly as it had started, bringing a relief that was of a power he’d never thought possible.

Exhaustion overtook him and the familiar cloud of nothingness began to form, billowing out and beckoning him in. He wanted it so much, he wanted to let go, he wanted to sleep. It would be so easy. All he needed to do was release his resistance and allow it to envelop him.

Not yet. He pooled all the remaining energy he had into one last attempt at contact, and straining everything he could, yelled out. A barely audible rumbling noise escaped from his lips as he slipped away.

Golden light streamed through a small frosted window above the door, bathing the room in orange-brown. Realising that the pitch-black nothingness had finally dissipated, Andrew blinked freely and looked around. He gingerly eased himself up and felt echoes of the intense pain he’d experienced previously. He closed his eyes for a moment until they subsided.

He was in a bed in a private hospital room. A small table on his right held a jug of water, a small glass, a couple of well-thumbed magazines and a remote control. A battered box-like television was attached to the wall high up in front of him, above a dark green plastic chair. Further to his right, cream-coloured vertical blinds hid a window that faced the door opposite. Immediately to his left, and directly above his head, machines beeped and whirred. Tiny dots of green flashed periodically, casting a quivering emerald glow.

Andrew cupped his palms to his stubbly face and wiped chunks of dried sleep from the corners of his eyes. His fingertips brushed material covering his forehead and he explored tentatively to find that his scalp was bandaged. What the hell had happened?

Peeling back the sheets, and slowly pulling his legs round, he planted his feet on icy tiles. Dizziness swept over him as he stood up, forcing him back on the bed. After composing himself, and waiting for electronic whistles of complaint from the machines to calm, he tried again. Using the table for support he edged over to the window. Tubes tugged at his arms as he moved but there was enough give to allow him to reach the latch.

The slats of the blinds flapped about as the cool freshness of the night burst into the room, cutting through the musty staleness. He took in a deep breath and immediately scrunched up his nose; he wondered when he had last washed.

The door opened and a light switch flicked. Shielding his eyes, he turned and was presented with a broad smile.

‘You’re awake, thank the Father! But what on earth are you doing up and about?’

The nurse hurried around the bed and placed a shiny metal tray, which carried an assortment of coloured tablets and capsules, on the table top, before steering her patient back under the covers. In one fluid movement, she tucked the sheets under the mattress, locking him down, and rearranged the pillows before pushing him back against them. Safely secured, she began inspecting the readouts on the machinery.

Andrew had recognised her voice and was relieved that he hadn’t imagined it earlier. She was a short, slightly plump black woman who went about her business with purpose and efficiency. He sensed an air of kindliness about her but there was no mistaking a foundation of steel behind it. He had instantly known who was in charge here and he didn’t argue when, seemingly satisfied with the screens’ displays, she moved to the window.

‘Goodness it’s cold in here,’ she said, once again imprisoning the close atmosphere. ‘So, how are you feeling?’

‘Not… too bad,’ Andrew squeaked softly. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d last spoken.

The nurse poured him some water, which he gulped down greedily. She refilled the glass and passed it to him with a cupful of large pills.

‘What are these?’ he asked.

‘They’ll help you along the road to recovery, my dear,’ she replied chuckling. ‘I’m just glad you’re awake. Somehow I knew you would come to on my shift tonight, and here you are.’

He shifted uncomfortably at the sheer number of tablets in front of him. The nurse’s smile vanished from her face and she coughed gently.

‘Well, anyway, I came prepared as you can see. Now, get those down you,’ she instructed, crossing her arms.

‘Do I really need them all?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Get them down you,’ she said more firmly. ‘The sooner you do, the sooner it will be over.’

Andrew hesitated. Last time he looked he was a grown man of thirty-two, not an eight-year-old. Nevertheless, he resisted the urge to point this out, and one by one swallowed the pills down, each with a swig of water.

‘There you go, well done, young man,’ she said without a hint of humour. ‘So, any headaches? Dizziness?’

‘No,’ he replied, choosing not to mention the light-headedness he’d experienced earlier. ‘Slightly tired I guess.’

‘Well that is a miracle,’ she said as a look of genuine wonder flashed across her face. ‘You really gave us a fright.’

‘I did? I… I don’t really remember much.’

‘Well, that’s no surprise. You took quite a hit. That’s one tough nut you have there.’

‘A hit?’ he asked, gently rubbing his head.

‘You really don’t remember do you?’ she said, pausing thoughtfully for a second or two. ‘Well, don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll all come back as soon as you’ve had some more rest. Come on now, there are a few hours left ’till morning.’

There was no time for any argument as she whisked her way out, returning the room to darkness as she went.

The next time Andrew woke, the blinds of the little room were open and sunlight flooded in. It took him a short while to adjust to the brightness, which was accentuated by the whiteness of the interior decor. The door was shut but he could hear a bustling hospital corridor beyond it.

A strong smell of disinfectant made him nauseated. He felt some relief after drinking a glass of lukewarm water and realised that otherwise he felt OK. His head was clearer than the previous night as the sense of fuzziness had evaporated. Nonetheless, he still couldn’t recall what had put him here in the first place. The fact that he found himself isolated in his own room suggested the seriousness of his situation.

Apart from his bandaged head, an indication of the source of the searing pain and disorientation he’d experienced, he didn’t seem to have suffered any other injuries of note. He could move all his limbs freely now, albeit a bit sluggishly, but he took that to be the result of his recent inactivity. How long he’d been in this state was anybody’s guess.

He turned to the window and looked out upon a clear blue sky, yearning to escape the thick recycled air and experience the fresh crispness outside. A sudden breeze blew the branches of a tree against the glass and he was lost in the moment, transfixed as leaves fluttered past with each subsequent gust. They appeared to float and whirl on the wind like a dancer lost in movement, surrendering to the rhythm of the music.

The branches clawed at the window panes again as the wind picked up. Within a matter of seconds, clouds brooding with malice appeared on the horizon and swarmed overhead, shrouding the area in a grey gloom.

The rattle of the door handle brought his attention back to the room. He turned to see Sue with outstretched arms.

‘Jesus, you had me worried sick. Thank God you’re OK,’ she cried as she leapt on him, hugging him tightly, before quickly pulling away and rummaging through her handbag.

‘I’m fine, Sue, I’m fine,’ said Andrew, with his arms still raised. He let them fall into his lap. ‘And don’t call me Jesus.’

‘You bastard.’

Sue pulled out a tissue from a travel pack and dabbed it around her eyes and face, being careful not to pull away the little makeup she wore.

For someone who had always taken great pride in her health, he was shocked by Sue’s appearance. Her pale skin, accentuated by the chalky light reflecting off the bleached walls, added definition to the bags that hung under her blue eyes. A couple of lines were etched across her forehead; lines that gave her baby-faced looks a wizened edge that he’d not noticed before in their fourteen years together.

‘Don’t you bloody dare do that to me again,’ she continued, tensing her shoulders and staring at the tissue she twirled round in her lap. Despite the warmth of the hospital, she was still wearing a long, heavy overcoat, which along with similarly dark blue trousers, gave the impression her delicate frame was cocooned in a sleeping bag. ‘What you’ve put me through is outrageously unfair.’

‘What I’ve put you through?’ he said, hoping she was at least half joking.

‘Damn right, you silly sod.’

‘Anyway, I don’t even know what I’ve put you through,’ he said.

‘Wha…?’ she said, raising her head. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, what did happen? I can’t remember a thing.’

‘Anything?’ she asked, edging back slightly.

‘Well, no. How did I get here?’

For an uncomfortably long moment of silence, Sue’s watery eyes pierced his.

‘Sue?’ he said. ‘Sue? Are you alright?’

‘I… er… yes,’ she said, finally. ‘So… what was the last thing you remember?’

‘Let’s see… OK, I remember leaving work for home as usual. I was on my way to the station and…’ Andrew looked up towards the ceiling and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tease the memories out. ‘Well… that’s about it. I was coming home and then… then everything is blank.’

‘From what the witnesses say,’ Sue said, wiping her eyes. ‘You er… stepped out onto a crossing round the back of the Strand when a dumb, bloody motorcyclist thought it was OK to skip a red light. Anyway, apparently you saw him and tried to get out of the way. He just missed you, but you… you lost your footing.’

Andrew closed his eyes and the incident came flooding back.

He remembered that he had picked up a copy of The Standard, which he was scanning while waiting for the lights to turn red. The article on the back page had been about the next instalment of Tottenham’s European adventure. Funny how it didn’t seem important now.

The green man had appeared on the light opposite and he’d stepped onto the road, slightly ahead of a number of other pedestrians. He remembered hearing a primal roar that caused him to instinctively skip backwards, catching the heel of his right foot on the toes of his left, and pirouetting to the ground.

‘I smacked my head?’ he asked, opening his eyes and reaching up to pat the tightly wound bandages.

‘On the kerb. But you didn’t just bang your head, Andrew,’ she replied, her face a blotchy, puffy mess. ‘It’s now Saturday. You’ve been unconscious for over three days.’

Sue’s head fell again. ‘And there’s something else…’ she hesitated.

‘What?’

‘Andrew… you almost died.’

‘Jesus,’ stammered Andrew as a sudden gush of bile hit the back of his throat. Sue wasn’t one for exaggerating. He shook his head and immediately regretted doing so as a wave of dizziness rippled over him. He waited for a few moments for the feeling to settle down as heavy rain began pounding on the window.

‘Andrew?’

He turned to Sue, who continued to focus on the tissue in her lap.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you remember anything else?’

‘For the police?’

‘No, that’s not…’

‘I don’t think so. It happened so quickly, it is all a bit of a blur to be honest. But I’ll have a think and see if I can get some more detail to help them catch the… Sue?’

He watched helplessly as Sue’s golden waves of hair danced in unison with her heaving shoulders. He leaned forward to gather her in his arms but seeing that she wasn’t forthcoming, settled for gently rubbing her arm while she released the pent-up emotion.

Sue was strong and had always displayed immense courage when confronted with adversity. She had no time for people who felt sorry for themselves. Every now and then though, as he knew very well, life presented you with a colossal challenge, and perhaps this was Sue’s turn. She would have been tested to the limit by this, and now alone with him, she was unable to maintain her composure. He suddenly felt very guilty for what had happened, even though he now knew that it couldn’t possibly be his fault.

‘Look, it’s OK,’ he said. ‘I feel fine now. In fact, I don’t feel as though I’ve been knocked out at all.’ He gently dried her tears with a corner of the bed sheet and finally managed to pull her up and into his arms.

‘It’s OK Sue, it’s going to be OK,’ he repeated as she began to cry softly again.

It was the following Wednesday when Andrew received the all clear to go home. Neither he, nor Sue, was convinced by the reason the consultant provided. Either it was because enough time had passed to reveal any lasting effects of his injury, or because the hospital needed the room. If he had to bet on it, he would have gone for the latter. But he didn’t complain. He had grown tired of crossword puzzles and he couldn’t bear any more television: stuck watching one channel all day and night because nothing else would tune in had been torture.

Sue drove him back to their flat accompanied by a bucket-full of pills and strict instructions to adhere to the medication schedule so as to avoid a swift return to Accident and Emergency. One bonus, as far as Andrew was concerned, was that he’d also been signed off work for the next couple of weeks. This was great until the nurse explained the regular check-ups he was to attend as an out-patient.

It was good to be back in familiar surroundings though, nestling in his gaming chair in front of the television. Aside from a dull and persistent headache, which the consultant assured him was nothing to worry about and would pass with time, he felt quite good.

He stretched his arms above his head as Sue bustled past carrying a bowl of cereal.

‘You’re going to be late Sue,’ he said, as she took a mouthful on her way to the kitchen.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied, as she reappeared brushing her hair. ‘You know when the next doses are, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’ve got everything you need?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’ve just had a large request for admin staff at a design company’s new office and I’m not likely to be back until late, so eat if you’re hungry.’

‘OK,’ he said, following her through to the bathroom.

As Sue turned the tap and began brushing her teeth, Andrew moved round her and caught his forehead on the corner of the medicine cabinet as he leaned on the wall.

‘Shit!’

Sue glanced up, spat out the foamy mixture and rinsed her mouth. ‘I’m certainly not calling Dr Jameson to tell him you banged your head again.’

‘Yeah very funny,’ he said, peering at his fingertips for signs of blood. ‘So, sounds like work is picking up?’

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ she replied, applying some lipstick. ‘It’s hard to tell; this is the first big deal we’ve had for a long time, so too early to say. Hopefully it is a sign the recruitment market is recovering.’

‘Sue, I meant to ask something.’

‘Yes?’

‘Why didn’t anyone come to see me in hospital?’

‘I told you, you were in no fit state for visitors.’

‘Yes, but not even Nate?’

Sue put the lipstick away and turned to face him.

‘Everyone asked after you, Andrew. I kept them all updated on Facebook.’

‘Oh great, so now all my personal tribulations are being discussed at length in the public domain.’

‘Andrew!’

‘Well, you’ll never understand, and what about Nate?’

‘You know he is away on business,’ she said, moving through to the hallway and collecting her coat and scarf.

‘Yes, but he still hasn’t been in touch since the accident and I’ve been home a while now,’ he said, following her.

‘I suppose that is a little odd. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry, I expect he’ll call in very soon. Right, I’d better go, see you later,’ she said, stepping out of the doorway before he could kiss her.

Andrew returned to the living room, sank into his chair and sighed. He had absolutely nothing to do. The washing-up could wait until later and he wasn’t quite in the mood to win the FA Cup on FIFA again.

He was just contemplating whether it was the perfect opportunity to finally start reading For Whom the Bell Tolls for his creative writing course, when his mobile started vibrating across the coffee table. He caught it as it dropped off the edge and the realisation that it was only the alarm rapidly turned excitement into disappointment. Time for pill number… what was it again?

Andrew felt a hand firmly shake his shoulder. His book dropped to the floor as he sat up.

‘Wakey, wakey sleepy-head,’ said Sue as she bent over to pick up the paperback. She set it down on the table and turned on some lamps.

‘Nice to see you’re finally taking that course seriously.’

‘Well, you know, good a time as any,’ he replied, squinting at his watch.

‘Now that sounds just like your philosophy. Shame you didn’t think that way three months ago.’

‘Hey, I keep telling you, it’s distance learning,’ Andrew countered as Sue wandered off to the bathroom to remove the London dirt. ‘The only deadline is to have it done in a year.’

‘Yes, but that’s all units complete in a year, Andrew,’ she called out in response. ‘Not just the first one.’

‘Yes, Mum,’ he muttered.

‘I heard that,’ Sue said as she reappeared drying her hands. She threw the towel at Andrew as she made her way to the kitchen, and stopped in the doorway.

‘What the hell is this mess?’

‘What mess?’

He went to join her to see the shattered fragments of a filter jug and accompanying glass spread across the tiles in a pool of water.

‘What the hell?’

‘That is exactly what I said you idiot. What did you do?’

‘Nothing, I swear. I just took my pills like a good little boy, then put the glass by the… hold on a minute, I didn’t even come into the kitchen?’

Sue fetched the dustpan and brush and began to sweep up. Andrew’s head started to ache.

‘Honestly Sue,’ he said as he ran a hand through his thick greying hair. ‘Everything was fine; I took my medication in the bathroom, and came back to the living room to read.’

Sue brushed past him in the doorway and returned with a mop and bucket. She paused and looked at him.

‘How have you been feeling today?’ she asked.

‘Good, I think,’ he said, rubbing his scalp. ‘I’ve got a slight headache I guess.’

‘Still? Look, we’ll see how you are tomorrow and perhaps give Dr Jameson a ring if you’re still not feeling right, OK?’

‘I’m fine Sue, really. I must have just forgotten about this. Maybe it’s the drugs, I dunno.’

‘Well, maybe it is, and if it is, then we might need to think about getting you on something else if you’re having blackouts.’

Sue ran the mop around the floor and squeezed the water into the bucket.

‘I’m alright, Sue,’ assured Andrew, feeling more than a little unsure himself.