Chapter 2: The man with the cigar

Chapter 2: The man with the cigar

Gail walked towards the door. Two men were standing there. One was short and fat. He was smoking a cigar. The other was a very tall man. He was wearing a black coat.

‘Excuse me,’ said Gail, ‘you can’t smoke in here. This is a hospital.’

The short man looked at her for a moment.

‘What?’ he said.

‘You can’t smoke in here, I’m sorry.’

The man threw his cigar on the floor. He put his foot on it. ‘Is that all right, Nurse?’ he said.

Gail looked at the cigar. Her face was red. ‘I need some information,’ she said. ‘For the hospital. Can I ask you some questions?’

‘Questions?’ said the man. ‘What questions?’

‘First, what’s his name?’ said Gail.

The man looked at her. ‘You don’t know?’ he said. ‘Where have you been for the last year?’

‘No, I don’t know,’ said Gail, ‘and I’m very busy. So, what’s his name?’

The short man looked at the other man. ‘She doesn’t know Alex,’ he said.

‘Everybody knows Alex,’ said the other man.

‘Are you going to answer or not?’ said Gail.

The man looked at her for a moment. She didn’t like his eyes. They were small, and very cold. ‘That, my darling, is Alex Hayle. That’s A-L-E-X H-A-Y…’

‘Thank you,’ said Gail. She was thinking about the story in the newspaper. Alex Hayle, the singer! ‘How old is he?’ The man laughed. ‘He’s twenty-nine,’ he said.

‘In my newspaper he’s twenty-three,’ said Gail.

‘Yeah,’ said the man. ‘In the newspaper he’s twenty-three. In the hospital he’s twenty-nine, his real age. Is that OK, darling?’

‘Where does he live?’

‘Alex? Here… and there.’

‘I must have his address,’ said Gail.

‘Put the Holiday Inn Hotel, Marble Arch, London. He was there yesterday. He was going there tonight.’

Gail wrote the address. ‘And who’s his next of kin?’

‘What?’ said the short man.

‘His next of kin… his wife, or his father or mother,’ said Gail. ‘We need the information, because…’

‘He hasn’t got a wife. His mother and father are… are dead. Write my name down. I’m his manager.’

‘Has he got any brothers or sisters? We need the name of someone in his family.’

‘Look, darling. He hasn’t got any family. Do you understand? Put my name.’

The short man’s face was very near Gail. She could smell the cigar and she could smell drink, too.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘what’s your name and address?’

‘Clarence Tucker. Tucker International Management Limited. 573 Shaftesbury Avenue, London. That’s L-O-N-D-0…’

‘Very funny,’ said Gail. ‘Are you his manager?’

‘I’m his manager,’ said the man. ‘Now have you finished?’

‘One more question,’ said Gail. ‘What’s his religion?’

He laughed. ‘Religion? Alex?’

‘Yes,’ said Gail, ‘religion. Which church does he go to?’

The short man turned to his friend. ‘Has Alex ever been to church?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Write “Don’t know”, darling. You’ve finished now.’

‘Yes,’ said Gail. ‘Thank you, Mr. Tucker. Don’t worry about Mr. Hayle. Dr Casey is looking after him. She’s a wonderful doctor.’

‘Is she?’ said the man. ‘Well, I want the best doctor. Alex is in the middle of a ten million pound concert tour. I don’t want a doctor in a little hospital like this one.’

‘What happened to him?’ said Gail.

The tall man spoke. ‘Alex drove from the concert. He was very tired. Clarence told him to come with me. He didn’t. He was driving too fast. He crashed the car, and…’

‘Be quiet, Roger,’ said Tucker. ‘She doesn’t need to know.’ He turned to Gail. ‘Now, darling, get me the doctor. I’ve got some questions.’

‘Well, Dr Kennedy and Dr Casey are very busy,’ said Gail. ‘I can…’

‘Did you hear me?’ shouted Tucker. ‘I want the doctor. Now!’

Gail walked away. Tucker and his friend weren’t worried about Alex. They were worried about the ten million pound tour. She went to the lift. The door opened, and Dr Kennedy came out.

‘How is he?’ she asked.

‘It’s not very good,’ he said. ‘Where are the two men who are with him?’

‘They’re over there,’ said Gail. ‘They’re not very friendly!’

‘Right,’ said Dr Kennedy. He went towards Mr. Tucker.

‘Are you the doctor?’ said Tucker.

‘Yes, I’m Dr Kenn…’

‘Right. I want a private hospital, not this one,’ said Tucker. ‘When can we move him?’

‘You can’t,’ said Dr Kennedy. ‘He’s broken his back, and he’s in a coma. You can’t move him.’

‘That’s Alex Hayle!’ said Tucker. ‘He can’t stay in a National Health Service hospital. We need the best doctors. We need a private hospital.’

‘He’s got the best doctor,’ said Dr Kennedy. ‘Dr Casey is a specialist, and she’s…’

‘And she’s working in a little hospital, in a little town,’ said Tucker. ‘Look, my friend, Alex Hayle is an international star. He sells millions of records every year, and…’

Dr Kennedy stopped him.

‘And he’s in a coma, he’s in this hospital, and you’re not moving him. Good night.’

He walked quickly back to the lift.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ said Tucker. ‘Hey! Nurse! Can we have some coffee or something?’

Gail smiled. She was getting some tea for an old woman in the next room. The old lady’s husband was in the hospital.

‘Mr. Tucker,’ she said, ‘this is a hospital, not a restaurant. There’s a machine over there.’