Two Weeks with the Queen (11 page)

‘Perishing thing,' he muttered. ‘Doctor says it'll be another week before I can walk on it.'

Colin looked at him sadly.

A whole week without seeing the bloke you were in love with was pretty tough.

‘OK,' he said, trying to take Ted's mind off it, ‘that's fruit, shampoo and cough lollies.' He put them all into the plastic bag. ‘Anything else?'

‘You don't have to do this, you know,' said Ted, looking at him. ‘You've got problems of your own.'

‘Does Griff like curry?' asked Colin. ‘I could take him in some curry.'

It was on his third visit to Griff that Colin had the idea.

A nurse wheeled a patient past the doorway of Grill's ward and the idea hit Colin like a lunch-box from a low-flying cropduster.

Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before?

He finished telling Griff about Des Phipp's elder brother who could fit a whole meat pie into his mouth and still have room for the sauce, and then it was time for Griff's shower.

Colin said goodbye and went out into the main corridor. He went up to the busiest nurse he could see, one who was hurrying along with an armful of bedpans and was about to drop them.

‘Excuse me,' said Colin, ‘where do they keep the wheelchairs?'

‘Ugh ugh ugh,' said the nurse, who had a clipboard in her mouth. She didn't stop, but flipped her head towards a side corridor.

There was only one door at the end of it.

Colin held his breath as he opened it. Inside were ten or more neatly-folded wheelchairs.

As he walked out of the hospital wheeling one of them, he kept telling himself not to run, not to bow his head, not to look guilty.

After all, if a hospital had wheelchairs for its patients, why shouldn't it have them for its visitors too?

After a wobbly start, the wheelchair was a huge success.

Getting Ted down the stairs was the problem at first, until Colin went and asked the Polish man in the bottom flat if he could help.

It turned out the Polish man had a brother in Australia and he and his wife helped Colin carry Ted all the way down the stairs and into the street.

‘You're a genius,' shouted Ted as Colin wheeled him towards the tube station.

Colin considered asking Ted to put that in writing and send it to Mr Blair at school.

Ted and Griff were so pleased to see each other that Colin suddenly felt like an intruder.

Give them a bit of time alone, he thought.

He slipped out of the room, muttering that he had to go to the loo.

In fact, to kill time, he went for a wander through some of the other wards.

Room after room full of seriously ill people.

None of them with any reason to feel happy, thought Colin sadly as he walked on.

But each time he went into a new ward, something struck him afresh. Something so obvious it would have made him shrug and say ‘so what' if he'd been told about it a month before.

Now, each time he saw it, he felt a strange pang inside.

The sick people who had their families and loved ones around their beds all looked happier than the ones who didn't.

When Colin got back to Griff's ward, Griff was sitting up and Ted was sitting next to him on the bed.

They both smiled when they saw Colin and beckoned him to them.

‘We know you probably don't like soppy stuff,' said Ted, ‘but we both just want to say thanks.'

Colin felt his insides go all warm and runny.

Who said he didn't like soppy stuff?

‘You'll probably never know how important this time is to us,' said Griff softly, ‘or how precious a gift you've given us.'

‘Now that;' said Ted grinning, ‘was soppy.'

‘Next Monday?' wailed Alistair. ‘But I thought we were going today.'

‘Ted'll be back on his feet then,' said Colin. ‘Once he can visit Griff by himself we'll go.'

Alistair slumped onto the kitchen stool. The jungle first-aid kit slung around his neck clunked against the ironing cupboard. The lid came off and a couple of hundred kelp tablets rattled around on the floor.

‘Mum and Dad are getting suspicious,' said Alistair. ‘Mum walked into my room yesterday while I was practising sucking blood out of a snakebite and she thought I was kissing my hand. She said if she catches me doing it again I'll have to see a psychiatrist.'

‘Well don't do it again,' said Colin. ‘Practise on a cushion.'

‘That's all very well,' said Alistair, ‘but while I'm wasting time practising on a cushion the ancient tribes of South America are probably talking to an advertising agency about marketing their cure for cancer themselves.'

‘That's if they've got one,' said Colin.

The next day Ted had to see his doctor for a checkup on his foot, so Colin wheeled him to the surgery.

The doctor was out on an emergency call and the receptionist told them he could be gone an hour or more. Ted and Colin agreed that Colin would go and spend a couple of hours with Griff, then come back and collect Ted and take him in.

Griff looked worse than Colin had ever seen him.

He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, making a faint rasping noise as he breathed. He didn't even smile when he saw Colin.

To cheer him up, Colin told him about the Bishop sisters who went swimming in their dad's water tank and Bronwyn Bishop lost a contact lens so they let all the water out to look for it.

Griff didn't even smile at that.

Oh well, thought Colin, you've probably got to understand how scarce water is out our way in December.

He started telling Griff about Wal Petersen's Holden Kingswood which had so much rust in it you could see the road through the floor.

He thought that was of pretty universal interest, specially with Wal Petersen being a police-man, but half-way through Griff put his hand on Colin's arm.

‘I don't really feel like talking today,' he said.

Colin felt awful. Poor bloke's feeling real crook and I'm rabbiting on about police corruption.

‘That's OK,' said Colin, ‘no sweat. I'll go, eh?'

‘No,' said Griff faintly, ‘I like having someone here.'

So Colin sat quietly, watching Griff.

He wondered if it was possible to make someone feel better by telepathy. Why not, he thought, people can bend spoons.

He tried it.

It seemed to work.

Every few minutes Griff looked over at him, and, seeing him there, seemed to relax.

Later that afternoon, when Colin returned with Ted, Griff looked much better.

Chapter Fifteen

‘Tomorrow?' shrieked Alistair.

Colin nodded.

‘You said today,' yelled Alistair. ‘You said today would definitely be the day. You said Ted would be back on his feet today and that we would definitely be going to South America today.'

‘I know,' said Colin quietly.

‘I've been waiting for over a week,' shouted Alistair. ‘I haven't been sleeping, I've got nerve rashes all over me, Mum says she's never seen my dandruff so bad.'

He rubbed his hair and a cloud of dandruff floated down onto his home-made grappling iron and his jungle first-aid kit.

‘I'm sorry,' said Colin, ‘but there's one more thing I've got to do.'

‘What,' said Alistair bitterly, ‘go and find another million people in hospital to visit?'

‘The wheelchair,' said Colin. ‘Ted's taking it back to the hospital this morning. What if he's caught with it and they ban him from the hospital? I took it out, it's me who should take it back.'

‘If we don't go today,' said Alistair, ‘I'm telling Mum and Dad about you taking the lock off every day and sneaking out. And then you'll never get to South America.'

Colin stared at Alistair's red, angry face. He saw Alistair meant it.

He felt desperation grip his chest.

‘I've got to stop him trying to take it back,' he said. ‘I've been thinking about it all weekend. If they ban him from the hospital he can't visit Griff.'

‘And if I tell,' said Alistair, ‘you can't visit the ancient tribes of the Amazon.'

Colin felt a very strong urge to belt Alistair round the head with the jungle first-aid kit.

Instead he thought fast.

‘OK,' he said, ‘I'll be back here by two-thirty. We'll leave then.'

‘You'd better be,' said Alistair.

Colin sprinted towards the hospital, the brown paper bag clutched tightly in one hand.

If I'm too late, he thought, I'll boot myself all over London.

He hadn't planned to stop at the fruit shop next to the tube station, but as he'd been hurrying past he'd seen them and the thought had hit him how much Griff would like them.

Australian mandarins.

Colin ran round the corner towards the main gates, brown paper bag flapping wildly, and saw Ted.

His first feeling was relief

Ted wasn't grappling with the uniformed attendant and doctors weren't pulling the wheelchair from his grasp and policemen weren't running at him from every side.

His next feeling was concern. Ted was sitting on the kerb sobbing into his hands.

Colin stopped. He watched Ted's body shake and heave with the crying and wondered what he should do.

Then he remembered Ted's words the day Colin had first seen him, in much the same position, doing much the same thing.

‘Once a week I treat myself to a bit of a cry,' he'd said.

Of course, thought Colin. Poor bloke, it's been nearly two weeks since then and this is probably the first one he's had.

He decided not to interrupt. Let him blub till he felt better, then they'd both go in and see Griff.

But where was the wheelchair?

Colin looked around, panic building inside him.

No wheelchair.

Was that why Ted was crying, because while he'd been buying mandarins Ted had been trying to sneak the wheelchair back in and had been caught and told never to set foot in the hospital again?

Colin ran over to him, boots thumping on the road.

Ted looked up and as soon as Colin saw Ted's eyes, even before Ted had managed to take a huge ragged breath and get the words out, Colin knew.

The numbness came to Colin immediately and was still there an hour later as he stood next to Ted in a small room in the hospital looking at Griff.

So still.

‘He died this morning,' said Ted softly.

Colin looked at Griff lying still in the bed.

I'm not crying, he thought, why aren't I crying?

He heard himself speaking from a long way off.

‘Were you here?'

‘Yes, I was, , said Ted. ‘I've been here all night.'

Somewhere very distant from the numbness in his mind, Colin felt glad.

He remembered what Griff had said. ‘You'll probably never know how important this time is to us.'

‘His parents are coming this afternoon,' said Ted. ‘They're taking him back to Wales for his funeral.'

Colin had never heard Griff mention his parents.

‘Why didn't they come and visit him?' he asked.

‘I don't know,' said Ted. ‘I think it was too painful for them.'

What about Griff, thought Colin. How's a bloke meant to feel when he's crooker than a dog and his own family pikes out?

Poor bloke must have missed them.

Then, out of the blue, he found himself wondering if Luke was missing him.

He was late.

He sprinted from the tube station back to the house as fast as he could. Saying goodbye to Griff had taken a while, saying goodbye to Ted had taken ever longer.

Colin ran harder to stop himself feeling sad.

He'd wanted to tell Ted about South America, but at the last minute he hadn't. He'd had a feeling Ted would tell him that if any ancient tribes in South America or Africa did have a cure for cancer, there'd have been a documentary about it on TV.

He ran down the side of the house and burst in through the back door.

The kitchen was empty.

‘Alistair,' he yelled, ‘I'm back.'

Aunty Iris stepped out of the dining-room.

Colin's guts went cold.

In her shaking hand was the back door lock.

‘I'm very, very disappointed in you, Colin Mudford,' she said .. ‘We invited you over here to take your mind off things and all you've done is deceive us and lie to us.'

Colin tried to say ‘sorry' but his mouth wouldn't work.

Aunty Iris's voice suddenly went very loud. ‘South America, are you out of your mind? Do you know what the sun does to Alistair's skin?'

‘Sorry,' said Colin.

‘Bit late to apologise now,' said Aunty Iris, ‘after you've been galavanting all over London with unsuitable types.'

‘I haven't.'

‘Don't try and deny it, my lad. I finally got the names out of Alistair. Ted and Griff or what-ever it is.'

‘They weren't unsuitable,' said Colin.

‘How do we know,' said Aunty Iris, waving the back door lock, ‘since we've never had the pleasure of meeting them?'

Later that evening, Alistair crept into Colin's room.

‘Sorry I blabbed,' he said, ‘Mum told me keeping secrets would make my scalp worse.'

‘Doesn't matter,' said Colin, staring at the wall. ‘If the ancient tribes had a cure for cancer we'd have seen it on TV by now.'

‘Yeah,' said Alistair, ‘probably.'

There was a pause.

‘Sorry I blabbed about Ted. You probably won't be able to see him any more now.'

‘Yes I will,' said Colin.

‘How come?' said Alistair.

Colin rolled over and faced Alistair.

‘I've invited him to tea.'

‘More tea, Ted?' asked Aunty Iris.

‘No thanks,' said Ted.

Silence descended once more onto the tea table.

This is a disaster, thought Colin.

He looked at Ted, sitting glumly at the end of the table. Was this the same bloke who'd lit up a roomful of gloomy faces with a handful of chocolate frogs?