The Overlooker by Fay Sampson

elderly. Some already had visitors. A few rested on their pillows, eyes closed. Most of them were connected to electronic monitors. None of them looked the way he had remembered Uncle Martin on Tuesday evening, sunk in sleep, with that grey cadaverous face.
    A cold hand closed round his heart. Was it possible that since Thelma had phoned the hospital this morning the old man had died? He tried to tell himself that there were no closed curtains in that part of the ward. No empty bed. Could they really have shuffled him off to the mortuary and filled his bed already? And surely there would have been a phone call to Thelma?
    â€˜Can I help you?’ a passing nurse asked.
    â€˜Martin Fewings. My great-uncle. We’ve come to visit him. But I can’t seem to see his bed.’
    She hurried across to the nurses’ station and consulted the papers.
    She came back smiling, ‘Sorry, we’ve moved him. We like to keep them in here for twenty-four hours after a stroke. That’s the most critical time. But there are always new arrivals wanting the beds. You’ll find him on Haworth today. Down the corridor and turn left.’
    He thanked her. In the corridor he shrugged at Suzie and Millie. ‘Sorry, I’ve led you astray. It’s round the corner.’
    As Millie fell behind, he whispered to Suzie, ‘Just for a moment, when I couldn’t find him where he was before, I thought he’d croaked. Imagine having to explain that to Millie.’
    Haworth Ward had a livelier feel. Most of the patients were sitting up, either chatting to their visitors or waiting expectantly. This time Nick went straight to the nurses’ station to ask.
    â€˜Where will I find Martin Fewings? I gather they’ve moved him here from Crompton.’
    A plump young nurse scanned the names before her. ‘This way.’
    Another nurse put out her hand to stay her. She whispered in her ear.
    The nurse’s round face turned up to Nick and Suzie, apologetically. ‘I’m sorry. He’s had . . . a bit of a setback. The doctor’s with him now.’
    Nick’s eyes flew along the ward. Only one bed had curtains drawn around it.
    â€˜Is he . . . Is it serious?’
    â€˜I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to say. You’d have to ask the doctor. Are you a relative?’
    â€˜His great-nephew. We’ve come all the way from the south-west to visit him.’
    â€˜I’m sorry. But there’s nothing I can do. Sister’s with the doctor. She may be able to tell you more when they’ve finished with him. Would you like to wait? The canteen’s on the next floor. You could go and have a cup of tea and come back in half an hour.’
    â€˜Is he going to die?’ Millie’s voice came unexpectedly from behind them.
    The nurse looked flustered. ‘I hope not, love. We’re doing everything we can for him. Still, he’s an old man. We’ve all got to go one day, haven’t we?’
    Millie turned and almost ran out of the ward. Suzie hastened after her.
    â€˜Sorry!’ Nick said hurriedly to the nurse.
    â€˜Was it me? Did I put my foot in it?’
    â€˜She’s just a bit sensitive about hospitals. It’s her age.’
    He strode after them. Suzie had caught up Millie at the head of the stairs.
    â€˜It’s all right, love. These things happen, especially at his age. That’s why he’s in hospital. So that the doctors can see to him straight away if anything goes wrong. They’re looking after him now.’
    â€˜You don’t know that!’ Millie rounded on her. ‘They drew the curtains round his bed, didn’t they? For all you know, he could be lying there dead. And you made me come here!’
    â€˜It’s OK.’ Nick put his arm around her shoulders. He could feel her trembling. ‘It’s probably like the nurse said. A bit of a setback. We can come again tomorrow. I expect he’ll be sitting up