Colin propped himself up in bed and opened the atlas. Aunty Iris had insisted he stay in bed all day and Colin, figuring bed was as good a place as any to plan a trip to South America, had agreed.
He ran his finger along the River Amazon.
‘There are ancient tribes that have lived there undisturbed for centuries,’ he said. ‘I saw them on TV. They make all their own medicine. I reckon in all that time, without being distracted by having to invent jumbo jets and microwave ovens and BMWs, they’d have discovered a cure for cancer.’
Alistair looked doubtful.
‘Ancient tribes know heaps of things we don’t,’ said Colin. ‘I met an Aboriginal bloke in the supermarket once who knew how to cure indigestion with bits of a lizard.’
‘And you’re going to go to the Amazon and find an ancient tribe and get them to tell you their cure for cancer?’ said Alistair ..
‘Yes,’ said Colin. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow.’
‘What if they haven’t discovered one?’
‘I’ll go to Africa, they’ve got heaps of ancient tribes there.’
Alistair stared at him.
‘Do you know how much it costs to fly to
South America and Africa?’ he demanded.
‘I’ve got my air ticket back to Australia,’ said Colin, ‘I can have stopovers wherever I like.’
‘Not if the airline doesn’t fly there,’ said Alistair.
‘AlI right,’ said Colin, ‘I’ll stow away on a cargo ship.’
Alistair stared at Colin again, then walked out of the room shaking his head.
Colin lay back and stared at the ceiling. He saw himself stepping off a cargo ship in Sydney and handing Mum and Dad the cancer cure in a small, jewelled bottle, and he saw the look in their eyes of relief and admiration.
Alistair came back into the room.
Here we go, thought Colin, what problem has he thought of this time?
‘Colin?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can I come with you?’
It wasn’t until that afternoon, when Colin was going through his pockets looking for his air ticket so he could ring Qantas and find out if he could have a stopover in South America, that he found the piece of paper.
He looked at it, puzzled for a moment.
Then he remembered Ted pushing it into his pocket in the hospital car-park.
And he remembered he’d left Ted with all the flat tyres. What if Ted had got into trouble for that?
Been arrested?
Colin looked at the piece of paper again.
It was Ted’s address.
He should really go and see if Ted was all right, specially after what Ted had done for him.
Can’t go now, he thought, Aunty Iris and Uncle Bob’ll be back in an hour.
I’ll go tomorrow.
After all, it would only mean putting off South America for one day.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a grimy street with tough-looking kids hanging around on the corner, and an old car without wheels or seats parked outside a laundromat.
Colin found Ted’s place, an old house divided up into flats. He checked Ted’s flat number against the list of numbers and names written up in marker pen on the wall next to the front door.
Then he noticed, further along the wall, a word spray-painted on the bricks in big red letters. The last couple of letters were stretched, as if whoever. had done it had started running before they’d finished.
QUEENS.
Funny, thought Colin, surely she wouldn’t own a run-down old place like this.
The front door was open, and Colin had to climb right to the top floor to find Ted’s flat.
He knocked on the door, hoping fervently Ted was in. He didn’t fancy hanging about waiting. Those kids on the corner had looked like trouble with knobs on.
Ted’s voice came from inside the flat.
‘Who is it?’
‘Colin,’ called Colin. ‘Mudford.’
‘Hang on.’
There was a silence, then Colin heard grunting and a table leg squeaking on lino. The grunting got louder, and there was the sound of something being dragged across the floor.
The door opened.
Ted stood there, leaning against the door frame, panting and wincing with pain. He looked at Colin and forced his face into a grin.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘what a surprise. Come in.’
Colin stared.
On one side of Ted’s face was a huge bruise and one of his feet was wrapped in bandages.
‘Give over,’ said Ted, ‘you’ve seen minor injuries before. Here, give us your shoulder.’
Ted pushed the door shut and, using Colin for support, hobbled across the room, dragging his bandaged foot across the floor. He flopped down on to a bed in the corner.
‘What happened to you?’ asked Colin.
An awful thought occurred to him.
Perhaps Ted had been bashed up at the hospital by irate Jag and Mercedes and BMW owners.
‘Local junior hoods,’ said Ted, jumped me last night as I was coming back from the hospital. Belted me round the head with a piece of wood and jumped up and down on me for a few minutes. Cut my foot.’
‘Why?’ asked Colin, horrified.
‘Don’t think they like me,’ answered Ted with a grin.
‘What about the police?’ said Colin.
‘They don’t like me much either,’ said Ted, still grinning. ‘Anyway, it was dark, there was a whole crowd of them, I had my eyes closed most of the time. Not much point going to the police.’
Then Colin froze.
On the floor at his feet was a huge red puddle.
‘It’s OK,’ said Ted, laughing, ‘it’s not blood. It’s tomato soup. I was trying to get myself some food and my foot gave way.’
‘I’ll clean it up,’ said Colin.
‘Thanks,’ said Ted, ‘but actually there’s something more urgent you can help me with. I’m due at the hospital in an hour. Not a chance of making it in this state but Griff’s going to be worried when I don’t turn up. I can’t even get down the stairs to ring up. Could you go and ring for me?’
‘No problem,’ said Colin. ‘But first I’m going to get you something to eat.’
***
‘Delicious,’ said Ted, taking another mouthful. ‘Best curry I’ve had in ages. Really like the glacé cherries.’
‘Needs a bit of salt,’ said Colin. ‘I couldn’t find any in the kitchen.’
‘Needs a bit of salt,’ said Colin. ‘I couldn’t find any in the kitchen.’
‘Over there,’ said Ted.
The salt shaker was on a small coffee table. Next to it, Colin saw, in a carved wood frame, was a photo of a man about Ted’s age. In the corner of the photo was written ‘To Ted, Forever, Griff.’
‘Griff’s always moaning at me for never putting things away,’ said Ted. His voice went quieter. ‘Six years we’ve been together and as soon as he goes into hospital I’m back to my old untidy habits.’
Colin stared at the photo.
Forever .
He knew that men sometimes fell in love with each other and that it was called being gay. The idea had never worried him that much, though he didn’t think he ever would himself
Then he remembered the graffiti on the wall downstairs.
Queens.
He’d heard men at barbeques say queens when they were talking about gay men. They usually sneered as they said it.
He looked at Ted, and saw that Ted was watching him carefully.
‘Is that why they bashed you up,’ said Colin, ‘cause you and Griff are in love?’
Ted’s face relaxed and he nodded.
Pathetic, thought Colin. All the blokes in the world doing really mean and cruel stuff and getting away without even a smack round the ear and here’s a bloke getting totally bashed up for being in love with another bloke.
‘Colin,’ said Ted, ‘would you be able to give the hospital a ring now?’
&
nbsp; ‘Would you like me to go and visit Griff for you?’ said Colin. He hadn’t planned that, it had just popped out.
‘That’s very good of you, Colin,’ said Ted.
Colin looked at him. Ted hadn’t said it in the way that meant ‘yes please’, he’d said it in the way that meant ‘I don’t think you should.’
Ted took a deep breath.
‘Colin, Griff hasn’t just got cancer. He’s got cancer because he’s also got a virus called AIDS.’
Colin had heard of that. The government had sent a booklet around about it. He knew it was a virus a lot of people were very scared of He also knew you couldn’t catch it visiting people in hospital.
‘I don’t mind,’ he said.
For a moment Colin thought he was in the wrong room.
Ted had drawn a map showing him how to get to Griff’s ward, but either they’d moved the ward or Ted wasn’t very good at maps.
Colin hadn’t dared ask any of the doctors or nurses for directions in case they’d recognised him as The Phantom Tyre Deflator. OK, Ted had said that following the description he’d given the uniformed attendant after Colin had legged it, hospital security were looking for a middle-aged tow-truck driver with a red beard and a limp, but you couldn’t be too careful.
Wandering through the maze of corridors, Colin had suddenly seen a ward with the number Ted had marked on the map, and had gone in.
Now he was looking at the thinnest man he’d ever seen.
This couldn’t be Griff.
In the photo Griff had bulging arms and his smiling mouth made his face sort of bunch out at the cheeks.
The man lying with his eyes closed in the bed in front of Colin had arms like cricket stumps and his cheeks were so thin they were almost hollow.
Colin looked at the chart on the end of the bed.
G. Price.
The name was right, but perhaps there was more than one G. Price in the hospital. Perhaps this one was Garry or Greg or Gavin. A jockey who’d gone on a diet and overdone it.
The man opened his eyes and looked at Colin.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘G’day,’ said Colin. ‘Are you Griff?’
The man nodded.
‘I’m Colin,’ said Colin. ‘I’m here cause Ted’s a bit crook today. It’s OK but, it’s nothing serious. Here, he wrote you a note.’
Colin handed Griff the note and watched while he read it.
AIDS must be a pretty awful virus, he thought, to give you rings under your eyes like that.
‘You’re sure it’s not serious?’ asked Griff.
‘No, it’s just that he can’t walk on his foot. Doctor says he’ll be right in a few days.’
‘He didn’t say how many days?’
‘Don’t think so,’ said Colin.
Griff sighed and seemed to sink even further into the bedclothes.
‘Well, it’s very kind of you to come, Colin,’ he said.
‘Here,’ said Colin. ‘Ted gave me some stuff for you.’
He rummaged in the supermarket bag he’d brought with him and took out a library book, some toothpaste and some tangerines.
Griff struggled up onto his elbows to look and he broke into a grin when he saw the tangerines.
‘You’re an angel,’ he said, and started to peel one.
Colin put a pillow behind Griff’s back to prop him up.
‘I always thought that when I saw my first angel it’d have wings and a halo,’ said Griff, ‘not freckles and elastic-sided boots. Want some?’
He held out half a tangerine.
‘Or would you rather peel your own?’
Colin knew why Griff was giving him the choice. Some people were scared a person with AIDS could give it to you real easy, like a cold or nits. Ted had explained that you could only catch it off stuff from inside the body, blood and stuff like that.
‘Thanks,’ said Colin. He took the half tangerine.
They talked for ages.
Griff told how he and Ted had met eight years before while they were both working in a sheet metal factory in Wales. Then, last year, the factory had closed down and they’d spent months trying to get other jobs.
Unemployment in Wales was so bad they hadn’t been able to. So they’d come to London to look for work. A week after they arrived, Griff had got sick and was told he had AIDS.
Colin told Griff about Australia, in particular Doug Beale’s trail bike and the time he drove into Arnie Strachan’s chook pen. Arnie had been so mad he went round to Doug’s place with a pair of sheep shearing clippers and clipped Doug’s Mum’s shagpile carpet.
Griff laughed so much Colin was worried he’d hurt himself
‘What are you doing over here?’ asked Griff.
Colin wondered whether to tell him about Luke.
He decided not to. It’d only depress him.
Colin was trying not to think about it himself.
Chapter Fourteen
‘But I’m all packed,’ said Alistair. ‘I thought we were leaving today. I’ve taken the lock off and everything.’
‘Something’s come up,’ said Colin. ‘It’ll only be a couple more days.’
‘A couple more days? I’ve made sandwiches. They’ll go stale.’
Colin saw that looped across Alistair’s chest was the Buckingham Palace wall rope. The several bent wire coat hangers tied to the end of it clattered against the ironing cupboard as Alistair sat down sulkily on the kitchen stool.
‘Took me ages to make this grappling-iron to get us onto the cargo ship,’ said Alistair. ‘I’ll have to pull it to bits if we’re not going today. Dad goes spare if there’s nothing to hang his shirt on.’
‘Hide it under your bed,’ said Colin. ‘I’ll buy some more hangers while I’m out.’
‘Where are you going, anyway, that’s so important?’ sulked Alistair.
‘Just helping a mate out,’ said Colin.
‘That’s all very well,’ said Alistair, ‘but while you’re doing that, the ancient tribes of the Amazon are probably giving their cure for cancer to some Swiss chemical company who’ll put it in pills and sell them for a million pounds each.’
Ted wasn’t grinning today.
He was lying on the bed looking at his bandaged foot as if he wished he could chop it off.
‘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.’