matter.
On Monday morning I needed extra milk, and walked along to the obliging Beech Green shop to buy a pint. There were several people there, including Jessie, surname unknown to me, who was John's domestic help.
'Poor Mr Jenkins,' she said to me, as I stood waiting to pay for my milk. 'Isn't it a shame?'
Of course, by this time I had John in a Portuguese hospital with multiple injuries, and unable to speak a word of the language. Alternatively, he could be in the wreckage of an aeroplane at sea, with the rest of his fellow passengers.
'The doctor's with him now,' continued Jessie, hoisting an enormous hold-all from the floor. 'I shall look in later on.'
'But what's the matter? What's happened?'
'He was ill on the flight and went straight to bed on Saturday night. Been there ever since.'
She staggered out with her burden, and I left soon after.
Within half an hour, I walked into John's house bearing a few things which I thought might be acceptable to an invalid.
The doctor had gone, and the place was very quiet. I called up the stairs.
'Come up,' said a weak voice.
He sat in bed looking thoroughly wretched, propped against his pillows. I was secretly shocked at his appearance. His smile, however, was welcoming.
'I'm so sorry I didn't ring, but we were held up for hours at the airport. It was two o'clock in the morning when I crawled into this bed, and I've been here ever since.'
What is it? Shouldn't you be in hospital?'
'I didn't ring the doctor until this morning. Can't worry the poor devil on a Sunday.'
I thought privately that this was being far too altruistic. If I had been as ill as John obviously was, I should have got the doctor whatever the day of the week. This patient was obviously of far nobler stuff than I was.
'What did he say it was?'
'Some bug which affects you rather like the malaria one. High temperature, shaking, nausea, all that.'
'When did it start? In Portugal?'
'I felt lousy on the plane. Some fly had bitten me earlier in the day, and it itched like mad. Doctor seems to think that started it. Anyway by the time I got home I was only fit for bed and quarts of water.'
'What can I do?'
'Nothing. Just stay and talk. Jessie is coming in every morning and evening, and she takes my sheets and pyjamas. I get soaked every few hours. With sweat , I hasten to add.'
I remembered Jessie's burden and felt guilty.
'I could wash some things for you.'
'I can't think what the neighbours would say if they saw my pyjamas blowing on your washing line.'
'To hell with the neighbours!'
John laughed. It was a wheezy laugh, and a weak one, but good to hear.
'That's my girl! But don't worry. Jessie's got a tumble drier, and she's taken everything at the moment.'
'Can I get you a drink?'
I made for a jug of orange juice standing nearby, but he grimaced.
'What I'd really like is a great mug of tea,' he said.
I went to get it, and when I returned he was lying back with his eyes shut. It was alarming, and he must have sensed my concern for he sat up again and spoke cheerfully.
'You could do something for me if you happen to be going to Caxley today.'
'I'm definitely going to Caxley today.'
'Well, could you get my prescription made up? And dare I ask you to buy me some more pyjamas? I'm running out of them pretty fast.'
'Of course. What size?'
He told me, and added:
'Three pairs, I should think. Any sort.'
I studied the pair he was wearing. They were the traditional blue and white striped things, probably made of winceyette. They reminded me of my father's night attire.
'Like those?'
'Not necessarily. Thinner, I think. I've got some polka-dot ones which Jessie's just taken away. It's a pity you didn't come when I was wearing them. I look like Noel Coward.'
'I'll take your word for it. I think I'd better get drip-dry ones to save Jessie some work.'
We sipped our tea in companionable silence for a few minutes. I felt very uneasy about him.
'Did the doctor mention hospital? I don't like the
On Monday morning I needed extra milk, and walked along to the obliging Beech Green shop to buy a pint. There were several people there, including Jessie, surname unknown to me, who was John's domestic help.
'Poor Mr Jenkins,' she said to me, as I stood waiting to pay for my milk. 'Isn't it a shame?'
Of course, by this time I had John in a Portuguese hospital with multiple injuries, and unable to speak a word of the language. Alternatively, he could be in the wreckage of an aeroplane at sea, with the rest of his fellow passengers.
'The doctor's with him now,' continued Jessie, hoisting an enormous hold-all from the floor. 'I shall look in later on.'
'But what's the matter? What's happened?'
'He was ill on the flight and went straight to bed on Saturday night. Been there ever since.'
She staggered out with her burden, and I left soon after.
Within half an hour, I walked into John's house bearing a few things which I thought might be acceptable to an invalid.
The doctor had gone, and the place was very quiet. I called up the stairs.
'Come up,' said a weak voice.
He sat in bed looking thoroughly wretched, propped against his pillows. I was secretly shocked at his appearance. His smile, however, was welcoming.
'I'm so sorry I didn't ring, but we were held up for hours at the airport. It was two o'clock in the morning when I crawled into this bed, and I've been here ever since.'
What is it? Shouldn't you be in hospital?'
'I didn't ring the doctor until this morning. Can't worry the poor devil on a Sunday.'
I thought privately that this was being far too altruistic. If I had been as ill as John obviously was, I should have got the doctor whatever the day of the week. This patient was obviously of far nobler stuff than I was.
'What did he say it was?'
'Some bug which affects you rather like the malaria one. High temperature, shaking, nausea, all that.'
'When did it start? In Portugal?'
'I felt lousy on the plane. Some fly had bitten me earlier in the day, and it itched like mad. Doctor seems to think that started it. Anyway by the time I got home I was only fit for bed and quarts of water.'
'What can I do?'
'Nothing. Just stay and talk. Jessie is coming in every morning and evening, and she takes my sheets and pyjamas. I get soaked every few hours. With sweat , I hasten to add.'
I remembered Jessie's burden and felt guilty.
'I could wash some things for you.'
'I can't think what the neighbours would say if they saw my pyjamas blowing on your washing line.'
'To hell with the neighbours!'
John laughed. It was a wheezy laugh, and a weak one, but good to hear.
'That's my girl! But don't worry. Jessie's got a tumble drier, and she's taken everything at the moment.'
'Can I get you a drink?'
I made for a jug of orange juice standing nearby, but he grimaced.
'What I'd really like is a great mug of tea,' he said.
I went to get it, and when I returned he was lying back with his eyes shut. It was alarming, and he must have sensed my concern for he sat up again and spoke cheerfully.
'You could do something for me if you happen to be going to Caxley today.'
'I'm definitely going to Caxley today.'
'Well, could you get my prescription made up? And dare I ask you to buy me some more pyjamas? I'm running out of them pretty fast.'
'Of course. What size?'
He told me, and added:
'Three pairs, I should think. Any sort.'
I studied the pair he was wearing. They were the traditional blue and white striped things, probably made of winceyette. They reminded me of my father's night attire.
'Like those?'
'Not necessarily. Thinner, I think. I've got some polka-dot ones which Jessie's just taken away. It's a pity you didn't come when I was wearing them. I look like Noel Coward.'
'I'll take your word for it. I think I'd better get drip-dry ones to save Jessie some work.'
We sipped our tea in companionable silence for a few minutes. I felt very uneasy about him.
'Did the doctor mention hospital? I don't like the
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