“Oh my God, he heard,” Cynthia said, with tears pouring down her face. “Can you hear me, sweetheart? I'm here … open your eyes, please….” But nothing moved on his face, and then ever so slowly, with his eyes closed, he frowned, and his lips parted, as he ran his tongue around his parched lips. It was like watching a miracle occur as he started to come around.
“That's very good, Mr. Robinson,” the doctor said close to Bill's face. “I want you to squeeze my finger again.” Bill groaned in protest this time, as though they were annoying him, but he did it again, this time with the other hand. Both nurses and the doctor looked at each other victoriously. He was coming back. It was impossible to determine how much he could hear or understand, but he was definitely responding to them. Cynthia felt as though she were going to jump out of her own skin, and she wanted to shove them aside and throw her arms around his neck. But she didn't move from where she stood. She wouldn't have dared risk hurting him.
“Do you think you could open your eyes, if you try very hard, Mr. Robinson? I would like it very much if you could.” The doctor urged him on, and there was no sign from Bill for a long time, and Cynthia was afraid he had slipped into the coma again. He looked like he was asleep. The doctor touched both of Bill's eyelids then, as though to remind him of the command, and his brain of where his eyelids were. Bill let out a small sigh, and then without a sound, he opened both eyes and looked at him.
“Well, hello,” the young doctor said with a smile. “That was jolly good. It's nice to see you, sir.”
Bill let out a small “Hmmm …” and then closed his eyes again, but he had looked right at the doctor for a second or two. It was the best he could do for now. And Bill drifted slowly back into the place where he had been. He had been dreaming of Isabelle.
“Would you like to try that again?” This time there was a sharp groan that clearly meant “no,” but after another minute, he did it anyway. “We've been very anxious to see you,” the doctor said with a smile, and as he said it, Bill's eyes seemed to sweep the room, and he saw Cynthia standing at the foot of his bed, and he looked confused.
“Hi, baby, I'm here. I love you. Everything's going to be okay.” And with that, his eyes closed again, as though it was all too much for him, and he didn't want to see any of them. And a moment later, he went back to sleep. But it had been a major event, and all of them were beaming as Cynthia followed the doctor out of the room.
“Oh my God, what does that mean?” she asked, trembling from head to foot. She had never been as shaken by anything in her life, and the doctor was happy for her.
“It means he's out of the coma, although not entirely out of the woods. But I think it's an enormously hopeful sign.”
“Can he talk?”
“He will eventually, I'm sure. His head injury wasn't such that his speech should be affected. He's just been very badly traumatized.” Bill's neck and spine were his worst injuries, although even the minor concussion he had sustained had kept him in a coma for two days. “His brain needs to adjust to what happened to him. I'm sure he'll speak when he wakes up again. His body has experienced a tremendous shock. It's like getting the wind knocked out of you, multiplied by ten thousand possibly. I'm not worried about his speech.” He was worried about everything else. The real problem in the long run was going to be his spine and the use of his legs. But the fact that he could use his hands was a good sign. He was obviously very weak, but it meant that he would be able to move his hands and arms, particularly once his neck had healed. “I think we can assume he's going to sleep for several hours, and tomorrow we should see some forward movement again. You might want to go back to the hotel and get some sleep, Mrs. Robinson. Tomorrow will be another long day.” But she was so excited, she hated to leave.
“You don't think he'll wake up again? If he does, I want to be here.”
“I think it's far more likely that he's exhausted from the effort he just made. It must have been like climbing Everest for him. He just made the first base camp, and he's got a lot more climbing to do in the next few weeks.” And possibly the next few years, but he didn't want to say that to her. This was just the beginning, and they had a long way to go, but the entire medical team was enormously encouraged by what they'd just seen.
“All right,” Cynthia agreed. “Maybe I'll go back to the hotel.” She hadn't seen her daughters in hours. They had been planning to order room service and watch TV until she got home. She had promised to call them as soon as she got back to her room. And she could hardly wait to tell them what had just happened. When she did, when she got back to Claridge's, Olivia let out a scream of joy, and Jane did a little dance.
“God, Mom, that's so great! Did he say anything?”
“No, he just opened his eyes a couple of times, and moaned. He squeezed the doctor's finger twice, and he saw me standing there. But then he went back to sleep. The doctor thinks he might talk tomorrow. And the nurse said that once he's regained consciousness, he should be alert pretty quickly after that.” Cynthia was hoping he would talk to her the next day.
The next morning, when she got back to the hospital, he was lying in bed with his eyes open and looking around the room, as though he still wasn't sure where he was. He seemed half asleep, as though he'd just woken up, which he had.
“Hi, sleepyhead,” Cynthia said gently as she approached his bed. “We've been waiting forever for you to wake up.” He blinked his eyes at her as though to say “yes,” but he looked sad, almost as though he were disappointed to see her, and had expected to see someone else. She had the feeling that he would have nodded at her, if he could, but he couldn't move his head in the brace around his neck. “Do you feel better today?” He blinked again. And then she ever so gently touched his face. “I love you, Bill. I'm so sorry this happened. But you're going to be okay.” He didn't take his eyes from hers, and then she saw him wet his lips as he had the night before, and close his eyes again. She wanted to offer him something to drink, but she didn't dare. The nurses had left him alone with her for a few minutes. The monitors would warn them if anything went awry. “Can I get you anything you need?” she whispered as he opened his eyes and looked at her face. He looked as though he was worried about something, and she stood next to him so she could hear him if he had anything to say to her. His mouth opened then, but no sound came out. “What do you want, sweetheart? Can you say the words?” She spoke to him as she would have to a child. And he looked frustrated at the difficulty he was having at making himself understood. He lay there in silence for a long time, and then tried again, as though he had been gathering strength while Cynthia talked. “The girls are here,” Cynthia chatted on. “They came to London with me.” He blinked as though to acknowledge her, and then frowned again, as he fought to unlock his jaw. She wondered if the brace on his neck was hurting him. It didn't look comfortable, but he didn't seem to be in any particularly acute pain.
“Where…” he finally whispered at her, as she strained to hear and waited patiently. But he seemed to take forever with the next word.“… is Izzz… ahh … bell?” It had been a huge effort for him, as he stared at his wife. She wasn't even sure Bill recognized her. His entire focus seemed to be on the woman who'd been in the car with him. She also suspected he wanted to know if Isabelle was alive. And his words, so agonizingly formed, and at such effort and cost to him, struck Cynthia like a blow. Asking for Isabelle had been his first words to his wife, and told her all she needed to know.
“She's alive,” she said quietly. “I'll ask the nurse how she is.” He blinked twice then, as though to say thank-you to her, and then he closed his eyes. A moment later, Cynthia walked outside, and her daughters pounced on her as soon as she did. She didn't tell them what he had just said.