Two Weeks with the Queen by Morris Gleitzman

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.
    â€˜Hello,’ he said.
    â€˜G’day,’ said Colin. ‘Are you Griff?’
    The man nodded.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜You’re sure it’s not serious?’ asked Griff.
    â€˜No, it’s just that he can’t walk on his foot. Doctor says he’ll be right in a few days.’
    â€˜He didn’t say how many days?’
    â€˜Don’t think so,’ said Colin.
    Griff sighed and seemed to sink even further into the bedclothes.
    â€˜Well, it’s very kind of you to come, Colin,’ he said.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜You’re an angel,’ he said, and started to peel one.
    Colin put a pillow behind Griff’s back to prop him up.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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
    â€˜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
    â€˜But I’m all packed,’ said Alistair. ‘I thought we were leaving today. I’ve taken the lock off and everything.’
    â€˜Something’s come up,’ said Colin. ‘It’ll only be a couple more days.’
    â€˜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