back at the Auchinlecksâ home and had nearly declined OâReillyâs offer to come for a pint.
OâReilly looked more closely. Rory was sweating like a pig and pale as parchment, but before Fingal could ask how he was feeling, a man stopped at the table and said, âExcuse me, Doctor OâReilly.â
OâReilly recognised Hall Campbell, the fisherman whoâd moved here from Ardglass last year and was buying Jimmy Scottâs fishing boat. Jenny had made a very astute diagnosis of patent ductus arteriosus, a congenital heart defect, which had been successfully repaired surgically. âYes, Hall?â
âIâve not seen Doctor Bradley about the place for a brave wee while, but I heard tell sheâs come back to us. When you see her, would you tell her Iâm going round like a liltie since I got over the operation and say thanks very much.â
âIâll do that. She was off taking a course, but sheâs back now. Sheâll be pleased to hear.â
âShe done me a power of good, so she did, sir. Iâve more energy than Iâve had for years.â He laughed. âI need it. The herringâs running great this year, so they are, and weâve been netting the odd mackerel this week. They should be coming in in shoals soon too.â
âIâm very glad to hear it, Hall. Very glad,â OâReilly said.
âAye,â said Hall. He tilted his head to one side. âJimmy tells me you like an evening at the mackerel fishing, sir.â
OâReilly, who had just finished his pint, said, âI do that.â
âIf youâd like Iâll let you know when theyâre in and Iâll take you out.â
âThat would be wonderful,â OâReilly said, âand if it would be all right Iâll bring Mrs. OâReilly too?â
âMore the merrier,â said Hall. âIâll be running on now, sir, but Iâll see you soon.â
Now that was something to look forward to. An evening out on Belfast Lough, lines in the water trolling for the silver-and-blue fishâand they were great eating too. He glanced at his watch. Better not be late for dinner.
Another roar of laughter came from Gerry Shanksâs table and Charlie Gorman yelled, âFive more pints, Willie.â An adjoining table had been pushed over to join Gerryâs and the evening was beginning to develop the attributes of a spontaneous party. A voice said, âMaybe weâll get Alan Hewitt to give us a tune?â
OâReillyâd not mind hearing Helen Hewittâs dad. He had a great voice. There might be time to listen and have another pint before Kitty expected them home. OâReilly was about to signal Willie, but Rory said, âExcuse me, sir, I donât want to spoil the funââ
The manâs pint was hardly touched.
ââbut could Donal maybe run me back to barracks? I just come over funny there now. I thought it was just a wee turn. Jasus,â he said, âIâm weak as a bloody kitten. I was feeling grand this morning so Iâd no reason to go on sick parade, but Iâm bollixed now, so I am.â
OâReilly reflexively reached for the manâs wrist to take his pulse. The skin was hot and clammy and when he counted for fifteen seconds and multiplied by four, Roryâs pulse was 112 instead of a steady 88. âYou have a fever, Rory.â
The noise from the party, the people at his own table, seemed to have vanished as OâReilly concentrated on trying to discover how sick Rory was.
The manâs teeth chattered. âI have something, sir, for Iâm bloody well frozen.â He shivered.
Probably a summer flu, OâReilly thought. It wouldnât take long to run him up to Holywood and get him under the care of his regimental doctor, but something made OâReilly ask, âHave you ever had anything like it before?â
âAye, twice
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