The Rome Prophecy

15

The guard outside the hospital room is the first to notice that the prisoner is out of bed and moving around.

He can see her through a slit of unfrosted glass, shuffling close to the wall.

The young man is about to call the nursing station when the night sister appears. ‘She’s out of bed,’ he announces in a worried tone.

‘I know.’ Sister Elizabetta Erio is a slightly overweight forty-year-old. ‘She pulled the emergency cord. Let’s see how she is.’

They enter the room together and find the prisoner-cum-patient sitting on the floor in the corner adjacent to the bed. Her hands are wrapped tightly around her drawn-up knees. She looks like a small, terrified child.

‘Come on, young lady,’ says Sister firmly. ‘You shouldn’t be down there. Let’s get you back into bed and make you comfortable.’

The guard bends down to help her, but this makes the woman cower even more. He guesses she’s afraid of the uniform and the white-holstered gun on his belt.

Elizabetta steps forward, takes her by the elbow and helps her to her feet in a no-nonsense way. ‘You’re going to freeze down there. Now let’s get you tucked up again.’

The prisoner allows herself to be moved back to the high metal bed. Her eyes never leave the guard.

Sister Erio quickly adjusts the patient’s faded hospital nightgown and covers her up. She’s read the woman’s case notes and knows she needs to stay alert. While the patient looks as meek as a mouse, and hasn’t spoken since admission, the huge bruise on her forehead is a reminder that there’s a constant chance of sudden and unexpected violence. ‘Does your head hurt, honey? That’s quite a bump you’ve got there.’

The woman scowls and tentatively puts her fingers to the patch of purple and black skin.

‘I’ll get you some painkillers. Would you like me to bring you a drink as well? Some nice cool water?’ She looks for a confirmatory nod.

‘ Si. Grazie.’

Elizabetta’s shocked. She stares disbelieving at the prisoner’s lips. ‘Okay. It’s good that you’re talking. Give me a minute, I’ll go and get some for you.’

On the way out, she pulls the guard aside. ‘Watch her. Watch her closely. I’ll be back in no time.’

Elizabetta phones the night doctor and grabs 400 mg of ibuprofen. She takes a plastic cup from the cooler in the corridor, fills it with chilled water and is back in the room within a minute.

The patient pops the tablets and drains all the water. ‘ Grazie.’

‘ Prego.’ Elizabetta sits on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m going to take your pulse and your blood pressure. Is that all right?’

The woman nods nervously. ‘Where am I? Why am I here?’

‘You really don’t know?’

The fear in her eyes says she doesn’t. ‘I have no idea.’ She bites at an already well-chewed thumbnail and looks around. ‘Was I hurt? Was I in some kind of accident?’

Elizabetta glances towards the guard. ‘The Carabinieri brought you here. They’ll probably want to talk to you, tell you about everything.’ She gives her a kindly smile. ‘Don’t worry about things; we’re going to look after you. Can you tell me what your name is?’

‘Suzanna.’

Elizabetta looks pleased.

‘ Va bene.’ She reaches for the clipboard at the end of the bed and writes on some notes. ‘And your last name, Suzanna, what’s your last name?’

‘Grecoraci. Suzanna Grecoraci.’

‘Excellent. That’s a good start.’

The patient looks puzzled. ‘You didn’t know who I was?’

‘No. No, we didn’t.’

Suzanna dips her head; when she raises it again, she looks ashamed. ‘Was someone else here?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sometimes the others come. They come and take my body without me knowing. Then they do things that I don’t know about. Bad things.’