BANJO WOKE UP WITH a start. It took him a moment to realise he was in a hospital room. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing and focused on something other than the excruciating pain in his ribs. The only thought that kept him from dwelling on his physical ailment was Andy.
When he opened his eyes, a male nurse stood at his side assessing him. ‘You look much better,’ he said appreciatively, then he went to the window, drew the curtain part way to let the sunshine in. ‘My name is Kiko, short for Francisco.’
Banjo sat up in bed, though his ribs protested the effort. His throat was scratchy. He croaked, ‘How long have I been here?’
‘Not long,’ he said. ‘Yesterday, around midday.’
‘Where’s Andy?’
‘She’s in room 315. I heard she’s doing well. Oh, your brother came to visit yesterday.’
