Free Someone to Love by Lucy Scala Page B

same, yet each story was unique: the people they had hosted and let go of and those they would keep. Everything was cold and colourless: the faces, the stretchers, the chairs. A smell of disinfectant permeated the entire building and contributed to my nausea.
    I scanned the central wall, with large windows overlooking the garden. I passed some nurses exchanging papers whilst deep in conversation and walked to the Director’s office on the second floor. The door was ajar.
    â€œCome in,” he urged, as soon as I knocked.
    I felt a tingle of excitement. “Hello, I am a bit early, I hope it’s not a problem,” I said apologetically. He stopped writing and looked up. “Not at all, in fact, make yourself comfortable.”
    He retrieved a folder from a filing cabinet, then sat down again. “So, I think, as a veterinarian, I’m sure you’re familiar with the risks and symptoms of certain diseases. In this hospital, not only do we try to treat our patients, but we also work to organize therapeutic activities. This is why I accepted your proposal.”
    I nodded, flattered. The Director showed me some papers, sliding his finger over a few lines. I listened in silence to the outline of the patient’s situation.
    â€œLeukaemia, right?” I asked.
    He cleared his throat. “The situation, I must admit, is clearly improving. The number of white blood cells is approaching the optimum level again,” he answered quietly.
    â€œOf course…” I checked the patient’s data “… being only six and fighting for your life, is not what any parent would want for their child.”
    â€œHis mother is back and forth every day, and with all my heart I hope he can return home very soon. If he keeps improving there’ll be no reason to keep him here and he can celebrate his birthday out of the hospital,” he explained.
    â€œThis is really good news. I’ll try to help them smile a bit more, I can do that.”
    I liked the tone I was using, I had practised in the car on the way here.
    â€œThen, in addition to Lukas, you’ll meet Giulio and Martina,” he continued, arranging the papers on the desk.
    â€œMartina is the youngest of the group and is on the waiting list for a heart transplant, while Giulio is an autistic boy. He’s not been admitted to our hospital, but he’s the son of one of our employees and has become a little like our son as well,” he crossed his arms, adjusting his back in the chair. “Martina is Lukas’s play mate, it’s nice to see how genuine friendships can be born in places such as these.”
    I limited my reply to “Then it will be easier to think of activities they can do together,”
    â€œI see you are anxious to begin. So, let’s not waste any more time, we can continue our talk outside the office,” he said. “Please, after you.” The Director gave me a nod of encouragement as he rose from his chair.
    â€œIt’s time to introduce you,” he said, inviting me to walk with him.
    As we went down the corridor I lost myself observing the coloured drawings on the walls that told, in words and pictures, so many stories.
    The Director stopped in front of a door. He looked through the small porthole, then he pushed it open firmly.
    I stepped into the room and was momentarily disorientated and bewildered. Memories surfaced and certain images materialized in my mind. I saw a strange room no longer, but my grandfather sitting on the edge of the chair clutching, with trembling fingers, the bony hand of his wife. They had been through so much together. And he couldn’t resign himself to the idea of losing her, the greatest gift that life had given him. He begged to leave a world where he no belonged, to be with the woman who had stolen his heart so many years ago.
    For a moment it was like having them back, but without the possibility of keeping them with me.
    The room was quite