Two Weeks with the Queen Read Free Page A

Colin, my tum.
    He waited for more symptoms to appear and for the nurses to rush over and start making a fuss of him.
    But it wasn’t Peruvian measles or Upper Congo Swine Fever, it was only the doctor stepping in front of the rubber tube.
    â€˜Hey, come on, that’s not a toy.’
    The doctor grabbed the rubber tube and steered Colin out of the ward.
    â€˜Any idea what it is yet?’ asked Colin. ‘I reckon it’s gastric. If it’ll help you put your finger on it I can tell you what he’s eaten today. One bowl of Coco-Pops, three jelly snakes, some licorice allsorts, packet of Minties, six gherkins, half a bowl of Twisties and a chocolate Santa. That was before lunch. Would you like me to write this all down?’
    The doctor didn’t answer. Colin wondered if many doctors went deaf from sticking their stethoscopes too far into their ears.
    Mum and Dad were sitting in the waiting area anxiously chewing their bottom lips.
    â€˜How is he, doctor?’ asked Mum.
    The doctor seemed to hear that OK.
    â€˜The young lad’s looking much brighter now, Mr and Mrs Mudford,’ he said. ‘We’ve sent a blood sample down to pathology in Sydney so we’ll know the full story in a couple of days. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Happy Christmas.’
    With a jingle of car keys and a glance at his watch he was gone.
    Dad squeezed Mum’s hand.
    â€˜See, nothing to worry about: he said.
    â€˜I know,’ she replied.
    â€˜That’s a relief,’ he said.
    â€˜Yes,’ she said.
    Neither of them looked relieved to Colin. He watched them still chewing their bottom lips. It’s not fair, he thought, making people wait for tests to come all the way back from Sydney. Specially just for gastric. I mean I know this is only a small country hospital, but Mum and Dad are parents and parents can’t help worrying. It’s a fact of nature, like monkeys eating their own poos.
    Colin had a sudden vision of how grateful Mum and Dad would be if someone could check out Luke’s blood now, this afternoon.
    The matron called Mum and Dad into her office to take care of the paperwork.
    Colin decided that while they were doing that he’d take care of other things.
    â€˜No,’ said Luke, pulling the covers over his head.
    â€˜I don’t need a bottleful or anything, just a tiny bit,’ whispered Colin.
    He looked around to make sure none of the nurses were watching.
    â€˜Come on, it won’t hurt.’
    â€˜It will,’ said Luke’s muffled voice.
    Colin took a deep breath. How could a kid who was always falling out of trees and dripping blood all over the house be so sooky about handing over a bit now?
    He put his mouth to where he thought Luke’s ear was.
    â€˜It’s for Mum and Dad.’
    Luke’s voice sounded faint under the covers. ‘I gave them place mats.’
    There was a pause, then an arm slowly slid out from under the sheet.
    Colin grabbed it, pushed up the pyjama sleeve and hunted for a not-too-old scab.
    It was a top microscope, but Colin didn’t have time to admire it. The little room it was sitting in was on the main corridor of the hospital and someone could walk in at any time.
    He pulled out his hanky, found Luke’s blood spot, and slid it under the lens. He peered into the microscope and focused it.
    Wriggly things, that’s what he was looking for. Like when they’d looked at the frog under the microscope in science and there’d been a million little wriggly things which Mr Blair reckoned were germs on account of the frog having been dead for two weeks because Arnie Strachan had put it in his lunchbox and lost the lunchbox.
    Colin couldn’t. see any wriggly things in Luke’s blood.
    Just blobs.
    He figured gastric germs would probably be wriggly rather than blobby.
    He peered at Luke’s blood again. Not a wriggle.
    What I need, he thought, is some healthy blood