Chapter 9
DANNY
D anny hurried down the hospital corridor, his heart pounding. His dad wasn’t prone to drama, so when the text message arrived just as he’d been about to load up Michelle’s bike, he’d dropped everything and hightailed it straight for the hospital.
‘Scuse me, sorry,’ he muttered, swerving around a couple of orderlies pushing a bed into a lift. He ground to a halt and turned back to them. ‘Actually, can you tell me where Purple Zone is?’
‘Cardiac? Left, right, carry on a bit… then left, take the lift to level three and follow the signs.’
‘Erm… thanks?’ said Danny as they disappeared behind the sliding doors. Not a single word of the directions had sunk in. The only word he’d heard—the one still echoing around his head—was cardiac.
Danny sucked in a breath, leaning heavily against the wall. He really needed to get his head back on straight. Surely if there had been a real emergency, one of the nurses would have called him?
Yanking his phone out of his pocket, Danny checked the screen. Nope, there hadn’t been any missed calls since his dad’s message. He quickly pulled it up and swore under his breath.
SOS. Moved to ward in Purple Zone. Come ASAP. Dad.
Danny felt like a bucket of ice water had just been emptied over his head.
Was his dad having a heart attack?
God… was he here just to say goodbye?
Would he even make it in time?
Glaring at the signs overhead, he located the arrow for Purple Zone and headed off again, this time at a trot.
Danny barely registered the surprised looks he was getting as he pelted along the corridors, taking corners at dangerous speeds and earning disapproving looks from staff. By the time he skidded to a halt at the Cardiac Unit’s reception desk, he was breathing hard and probably looked half-mad.
‘Keith Dalton,’ he gasped at the startled receptionist. ‘Room number?’
‘Twelve, but?—’
Danny was already gone, sprinting down the corridor before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say.
Room eight, ten, eleven... there. Room twelve.
Danny didn’t bother to knock, he just shoved the door open hard enough to make it bang against the wall.
‘Dad!’ he burst out, bracing himself for monitors and wires and medical drama.
Instead, he came to such an abrupt halt that he nearly tripped over his own feet. Danny blinked. Then blinked again.
No oxygen mask. No heart monitors beeping ominously. No emergency resuscitation equipment or frantic nurses or any of the terrifying scenes his imagination had conjured during his mad dash through the corridors.
‘Oh, there you are,’ said Keith, glancing up calmly from a glossy magazine. ‘Took you long enough.’
Danny gulped, trying to catch his breath. His dad was sitting fully dressed on a chair next to the bed. He had his shoes on, and there was a cup of tea sitting next to him on the nightstand.
Keith narrowed his eyes. ‘Why do you look like someone’s died?’
‘Because I thought you were!’ said Danny, clutching his chest and willing his heaving lungs and racing heart to get the memo and calm the eff down. ‘Just as well we’re in a heart attack ward, because I think you’ve nearly given me one!’
‘Don’t be such a drama queen,’ tutted Keith, tossing the magazine aside and reaching for his cup of tea.
‘You don’t get to call me a drama queen when you sent me that SOS text message!’ said Danny. ‘Considering you look healthy and happy as a pig in poop, I’m guessing I’m here under false pretences?’
‘Healthy? Yes. Happy? No!’ huffed Keith, putting his cup back down with a clatter. ‘And there is an emergency. I want to go home. Anyway… good. You’re here. Let’s go.’
He got creakily to his feet and reached for his bag, then frowned down at the cast on his wrist before swapping hands.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ Danny muttered darkly, still rubbing his chest as he slumped down onto a second vinyl-clad chair on the other side of the bed. ‘First things first. Why are you in Cardiology?’
‘They moved me here,’ said Keith, unzipping his bag awkwardly so that he could shove his magazine inside. The simple action clearly sapped him of all his strength because he slumped back down and twisted around to glare at Danny.
‘Yeah, I gathered that much,’ said Danny, praying for calm. ‘But… why? Is there a problem with your heart?’
Keith shook his head. ‘Some poor sap needed my bed on the stroke ward. Emergency. From what I could gather, it sounded like he’s in a bad way…’
He trailed off, and Danny felt a pinch of sympathy. His dad had been relatively lucky this time. If it wasn’t for the cast on his wrist, you’d be hard pressed to tell that there was much wrong with him.
Still, it couldn’t have been easy to watch someone else arriving on the ward with a full-blown stroke in progress. Danny could only imagine the what-if scenarios that must be running through his dad’s head.
Danny cleared his throat, and Keith snapped back to attention, forcing a determined smile onto his face. ‘Anyway, like I said. It’s time to go home. I don’t need to be in here anymore.’
‘Is that what your doctors told you?’ said Danny, making sure his voice was as calm and gentle as possible. If that really was the case, then he’d gladly take him home. But… Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that his dad was trying to rope him into some kind of jail-break scenario.
‘I’m fine,’ muttered Keith. ‘Right as rain. Nothing wrong with me. They’ve done their scans, they’ve checked every inch of me. They’ve even told me what I need to take to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Let’s go!’
Danny shook his head. ‘I think I’d better just nip out and speak to the receptionist first.’
‘I’m a grown man,’ said his dad, with a frustrated wave of his arms. The statement rather lost its punch when he got his cast caught in the strap of his bag.
‘You’re a grown pain in my behind,’ chuckled Danny. ‘Look, we need to make sure your prescriptions are ready before we go anywhere. Why don’t you chill out for ten more minutes? Drink your tea while I go and find out what’s what.’
‘Then we can go?’
‘As long as the docs are happy with it,’ said Danny.
‘Great,’ huffed Keith, slumping back in his chair. ‘Ten minutes – any longer than that, and I’m walking home.’
Danny decided not to comment on the threat. He knew his dad well enough to be fairly sure he wasn’t bluffing. ‘Do you need anything while I’m out there?’
‘Everything I need is at home.’
Danny gave him a little nod and just about managed to restrain an eyeroll as he left the room. Keith Dalton in this mood was a bit like a donkey in a thistle patch—grumpy, stubborn, and definitely not to be reasoned with.
One thing was for sure—if he wasn’t allowed to take him home, Danny wasn’t going to be the one to break the news!
Closing the door gently behind him, Danny leaned against the corridor wall and closed his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly, willing his chest to loosen.
His dad was fine. He’d be home soon.
Danny scrunched his eyes tighter, willing the tingling prickle to bugger off. He would not cry. He didn’t have any reason to. This was just the shock of that red herring of a text message working its way out of his system, that was all!
Except… that wasn’t all, was it? Keith Dalton was his only family. Hell, the prickly old git was his best friend, too. Danny couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without him… but these last few days had forced him to face reality.
Without his dad, Danny’s life would be empty.
‘Sir, are you okay?
The gentle voice forced Danny to open his eyes, and he found the same receptionist he’d barked at earlier standing in front of him with a look of concern.
‘I’m… fine.’ Danny cleared his throat and forced himself to smile at the woman. ‘Sorry. For earlier, too. Dad sent me a message and it made it sound like… like…’
He paused again. His voice had just quivered ominously.
‘Room twelve? Keith Dalton?’ said the woman. Danny could swear there was a knowing gleam in her eye.
Danny nodded.
‘Ah yes, our resident rogue,’ said the woman, with a tired smile. ‘He’s been sitting at the side of the bed since he was transferred. Shoes and coat on, bag packed – ready to go.’
‘Sounds about right,’ grunted Danny. ‘So, can I take him home?’
The woman pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure. He’s supposed to wait for the consultant to make one more round this evening. Then, all being well, he’ll be able to go home as soon as we’ve got the discharge paperwork sorted out.’
‘So, he’ll be able to come home later today?’ said Danny, already dreading telling his dad there would be a delay.
‘Probably more like tomorrow morning, if I’m honest. These things take time.’
‘Well, I guess I should warn you that he’s given me ten minutes before he “checks himself out”,’ said Danny.
‘Ah,’ said the woman. ‘Right. Well, he’s within his rights to do that, of course, but I’d strongly advise that he stays put until he’s seen the consultant.’
‘I’ve got a nasty feeling that’s not going to happen,’ sighed Danny, suddenly feeling exhausted.
‘How about you go back in there and do your best to distract him for as long as you can,’ said the woman. ‘I’ll make some calls and see what we can do.’
‘Really?’ said Danny.
‘I’ll do my best,’ said the woman, patting him on the arm. ‘I’m not promising anything, though.’
‘You’re a hero,’ said Danny, ‘thank you.’
‘Look, it’s nearly lunchtime. Why don’t you grab your dad’s tray from the trolley and take it in?’ she said. ‘And maybe get yourself something from the vending machine while you’re at it. You look like you could do with some sugar… and it might buy you some time.’
Danny did his best to hold his breath as he pushed his way backwards into his dad’s room.
The stench of over-boiled cabbage wafting up from the lukewarm plate of food he was carrying was turning his stomach.
The kind woman in charge of the trolley had offered him a meal too, but Danny was glad now that he’d opted to stick with a packet of crisps and a can of Coke from the vending machine.