pendant of Harriet, but his reaction when he unwrapped it made me feel much better.
‘Look at that, Harriet,’ he said holding the pendant up to the real bird sitting on his shoulder. ‘That’s you!’
‘Hello!’ said Harriet to her carved image. ‘Who are you?’
After we’d finished laughing, Nick put the pendant over his head and arranged it so that it sat nicely at the top of his chest. He turned to me. ‘Thank you so much, Danny,’ he said. ‘Now she’ll be with me wherever I go. Thank you!’
Midway through the afternoon Mum got a call from the hospital. Murph was being taken out of isolation. Tests had not found any hint of the H6N3 virus in his body. Although he was still seriously ill with emphysema, there was no reason why he couldn’t have visitors. Mum and Dad decided it would be good to go and see him and try to cheer up his Christmas.
While they were getting ready, another phone call came through. This was from the Ministry of Health to say that Nickand I were clear of the virus too. We pretty much knew that already, but it was good to have official notification. It meant we could start living a normal life again, which started straight away by going with Mum and Dad to the hospital.
Murph looked to be asleep when we walked into his room. He seemed much smaller than I remembered. His skinny body scarcely made a mound in the bed. There was a drip connected to his left arm, and oxygen tubes up his nose. Neither seemed to make much difference to his breathing, which was just as noisy as usual. However, his face was no longer the horrible purple colour we’d seen when we found him collapsed in the aviary.
‘Hello, mate,’ said Dad. ‘How’s it going?’
Murph gave a little shake of his head. ‘Bloody awful, mate,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t had a fag for five days.’ He raised the arm attached to the drip. ‘I could save them a lot of money on painkillers if they’d just let me have a fag instead of this stuff.’
Mum looked around at the patients in the other three beds. ‘They might object, though,’ she said.
‘Ha!’ replied Murph. ‘Can’t see that happening. None of them have said a thing since I was brought in here. They’re all either unconscious or dead.’
Dad chuckled. ‘Apart from fags, is there anything you want?’
‘Nah, mate. Nothing for me. But you can do something back at the house. The birds need checking out.’
Mum, Dad and Nick all looked at me, clearly nominating me as the one to tell him.
‘They’ve gone,’ I said, quietly. ‘The same day you came in here.’
He sighed and closed his eyes. ‘What about Harriet?’
‘I’m looking after her,’ answered Nick before I had the chance.
Murph’s eyes opened. ‘Is she OK? No sign of the sickness?’
‘None,’ said Nick. ‘She’s great!’ He lifted the pendant I’d given him. ‘Look what Danny made for me.’
When Murph focused on the bone carving, his eyes watered. He reached up a hand to touch it and rub it with his fingers. ‘That’s good,’ he said. Then he smiled at me. ‘That’s real good.’
Soon afterwards, we left.
The news that night was mostly Christmas cheer and goodwill to all. However, they did find a spot for the bird-flu epidemic, probably because that was mostly good news as well. They reported that the unnamed suspected victim had been found to be clear of the virus. This led officials to believe that this particular strain of H6N3 could not infect humans.
They also showed a brief clip of Colin Saxton saying that BIRT believed the epidemic was waning, if not already over. No sick or recently dead birds had been found for several days. They were winding back their presence in the area, and would return only if new cases were discovered.
All in our house were pleased for everything to be over,particularly Dad. Now, there was little chance that anybody would worry about the source of the photos, especially with the summer holidays underway. It looked like we
‘Look at that, Harriet,’ he said holding the pendant up to the real bird sitting on his shoulder. ‘That’s you!’
‘Hello!’ said Harriet to her carved image. ‘Who are you?’
After we’d finished laughing, Nick put the pendant over his head and arranged it so that it sat nicely at the top of his chest. He turned to me. ‘Thank you so much, Danny,’ he said. ‘Now she’ll be with me wherever I go. Thank you!’
Midway through the afternoon Mum got a call from the hospital. Murph was being taken out of isolation. Tests had not found any hint of the H6N3 virus in his body. Although he was still seriously ill with emphysema, there was no reason why he couldn’t have visitors. Mum and Dad decided it would be good to go and see him and try to cheer up his Christmas.
While they were getting ready, another phone call came through. This was from the Ministry of Health to say that Nickand I were clear of the virus too. We pretty much knew that already, but it was good to have official notification. It meant we could start living a normal life again, which started straight away by going with Mum and Dad to the hospital.
Murph looked to be asleep when we walked into his room. He seemed much smaller than I remembered. His skinny body scarcely made a mound in the bed. There was a drip connected to his left arm, and oxygen tubes up his nose. Neither seemed to make much difference to his breathing, which was just as noisy as usual. However, his face was no longer the horrible purple colour we’d seen when we found him collapsed in the aviary.
‘Hello, mate,’ said Dad. ‘How’s it going?’
Murph gave a little shake of his head. ‘Bloody awful, mate,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t had a fag for five days.’ He raised the arm attached to the drip. ‘I could save them a lot of money on painkillers if they’d just let me have a fag instead of this stuff.’
Mum looked around at the patients in the other three beds. ‘They might object, though,’ she said.
‘Ha!’ replied Murph. ‘Can’t see that happening. None of them have said a thing since I was brought in here. They’re all either unconscious or dead.’
Dad chuckled. ‘Apart from fags, is there anything you want?’
‘Nah, mate. Nothing for me. But you can do something back at the house. The birds need checking out.’
Mum, Dad and Nick all looked at me, clearly nominating me as the one to tell him.
‘They’ve gone,’ I said, quietly. ‘The same day you came in here.’
He sighed and closed his eyes. ‘What about Harriet?’
‘I’m looking after her,’ answered Nick before I had the chance.
Murph’s eyes opened. ‘Is she OK? No sign of the sickness?’
‘None,’ said Nick. ‘She’s great!’ He lifted the pendant I’d given him. ‘Look what Danny made for me.’
When Murph focused on the bone carving, his eyes watered. He reached up a hand to touch it and rub it with his fingers. ‘That’s good,’ he said. Then he smiled at me. ‘That’s real good.’
Soon afterwards, we left.
The news that night was mostly Christmas cheer and goodwill to all. However, they did find a spot for the bird-flu epidemic, probably because that was mostly good news as well. They reported that the unnamed suspected victim had been found to be clear of the virus. This led officials to believe that this particular strain of H6N3 could not infect humans.
They also showed a brief clip of Colin Saxton saying that BIRT believed the epidemic was waning, if not already over. No sick or recently dead birds had been found for several days. They were winding back their presence in the area, and would return only if new cases were discovered.
All in our house were pleased for everything to be over,particularly Dad. Now, there was little chance that anybody would worry about the source of the photos, especially with the summer holidays underway. It looked like we
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