Ayamin had a novel, a bunch of poppies, and a jar of water in her arms when I met her beside the hospital.

She glanced both ways then pulled me into a hug.

‘Hi,’ her hand found mine and we pushed through the white plastic doors into the hospital. 

The smell of disinfectant hit me so hard I nearly staggered back out. 

Ayamin winced, ‘I suppose you’re not used to it yet.’ 

I took another breath and tried to stop myself from retching, ‘Do you ever get used to it?’ 

‘Depends how much time you spend here… besides the disinfectant is only there to hide its true smell.’ 

She started walking down the rows, and I followed her, glancing at the people who rested under slightly stained white hospital sheets. Needles and drug lines dripped into veins, and moans and coughs escaped their lips. 

Our feet had only been tapping on the plywood floors for a minute when Ayamin stopped in front of a shrunken old lady with wispy black hair and an almost toothless smile. 

‘Aya!’ The woman chirped. Ayamin put the book on the woman’s bedside table and the red and yellow poppies in the jar of water. She kissed her grandma on the cheek, and as Ayamin stood back up the old woman tugged on her jacket with a shaky hand, and whispered to her in Arabic. The old woman’s eyes went from Ayamin to me, and back again. 

Ayamin laughed, and her face went red. She turned to me, ‘Danny, would you like to meet Grandma Teete?’

Teete’s hand touched my cheek as I knelt in front of her, she raised her eyebrows to Ayamin and nodded her head. 

‘Good.’ she murmured, and then said another sentence in Arabic that made Ayamin screech with laughter. Ayamin shook a finger at her grandma and the two of them exchanged super-fast sentences in Arabic that set them both laughing. 

Ayamin’s laugh was light and warm, and her grandma’s was the same, only rougher. The old woman put a hand to her chest and started to cough. Gradually Ayamin’s laugh faded as Grandma Teete’s cough grew louder and louder. We sat in silence as her grandma wiped the flecks of spit and red splotches of blood from her elbow. 

There was silence. 

‘Your book on the table, it looks interesting’ I said, more to get the sound of coughing out of our minds than anything else.

Ayamin picked it up, it had a yellow mountain daisy on its cover. Its pages were worn and dog eared from use. She flicked through it and a small smile ventured back onto her face. 

‘It’s called Two Hearts in The French Night. It’s our favourite book.’ she laughed, ‘Teete says it helps her to believe she can still find love.’ 

She rubbed her grandma’s shoulder and the old woman nodded. 

‘Usually I’d read to her. You don’t have to but… if you want to stick around and hear…’

I picked up a white plastic hospital chair, put it down beside her, and took a seat. 

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

A faint smile crept onto her lips as she began to read. The book was in English but she spoke in Arabic for Grandma Teete. I enjoyed her voice – it was almost musical. I enjoyed the way she folded her hair behind her ear and the slight lift in her voice when she came to one of her favourite parts. At one point she put the book aside and read two chapters with her eyes closed – straight from her memory. I guess that’s how important the book must have been to her. Or at least how many times she’d read it. 

Samantha sat on the steps of the church waiting. The lights of Briancon were dark to save electricity – she had only the moon to find Rudy. 

She wondered why he’d come to the small mountain town in the first place. She wondered why he’d stayed. She wondered where he was tonight. The moon was far above the church’s tiled roof. 

As she read, I began to feel something in my heart, it was like waking up from a deep sleep, it happened slowly at first and then bam. I was awake. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was the smell of disinfectant. 

I heard a cough and looked up, Ayamin was not the only one being watched. Grandma Teete’s eyes flicked to me and she had this not-so-subtle grin on her face. 

The sound of Ayamin replacing the bookmark was like the closing of a dream. She smiled at her grandma, and turned to me, ‘You enjoy that?’

‘When’s the next session?’

She raised her eyebrows to Grandma Teete who winked. 

Ayamin rolled her eyes, ‘We read again on Thursday.’

‘Count me in.’