Hows he feeling? Whats his condition? gasped the motherinlaw, peering over her tea. Hes still in bed. Its just a slight fever, nothing seriouswinters started, thats all.
Not just any winter! Its your job thats getting you home with all sorts of junk from the shop! How many times must I tell you to change employers?
Ethel was dozing when a sudden clatter shattered the silencesomeone had pushed the front door open. She blinked at the alarm clock: eight oclock in the morning.
Oliver, love, is that you? she called, straining to hear the flats creaks.
No answer. She heard only the soft thud of a bathroom door closing, then silence.
She slipped on a housecoat, sprinted barefoot to the bathroom, flung the door open and stopped dead in her tracks.
There, in front of the mirror, stood Oliver, staring at his own protruding tongue with a halfgrin.
Ethel, tell me, is it true that a person with a cold gets a white tongue? he asked.
Youre catching a cold, arent you? she replied, halfasleep.
Seems so, Oliver muttered, touching his forehead. I need a thermometer. Where did we put it? Let me lie down. Theyve let me off work early. I suppose well have to call a doctor.
Ethel fetched the thermometer. The reading was 99°F (37.2°C). There we go, winters here, she sighed as Oliver collapsed onto the bed. The doctor arrived an hour later, handed out a fitnote, and left.
Ethel rang her mother.
Could you pick up little Charlie from nursery? He cant come homeOlivers got a cold.
Her mother, delighted to spoil her grandchild, answered cheerfully. Anything for you, dear. Hows Oliver? Anything serious?
Nothing major. The doctor gave us a fitnote, prescribed a few things, and were just taking it easy.
How are you holding up? her mother asked.
Im fine! Ill be on the night shift at work again, and Ill ask the motherinlaw to pop round this evening to check on Oliver. Thats the plan for the whole week. Thanks, Mum, were sorted.
So, what to do? She needed a simple chicken broth soup, which meant a quick dash to the corner shop after the pharmacy. She pulled frozen chicken thighs from the freezer, bought carrots and potatoes, and stocked up on the necessary medicines.
At lunchtime she nudged her husband awake.
Oliver, get up and have some soup, she said, shaking his shoulder.
Halfasleep, Oliver sat up on the bed.
Ugh, I feel a bit queasy. Could you bring the soup to me? I cant make it to the kitchen.
Is it that bad? Fine, Ill bring it. Youll take your temperature again afterwards
He ate, she checked his temperaturestill 99°F. She handed him some tablets. Oliver turned his face to the wall and fell back asleep. Thank heavens. In Olivers case the employer covered the whole fitnote, but for Ethel it was a different storyher shops cash flow was tight, and the family were already neckdeep in mortgage repayments. She couldnt afford to be out of work.
She phoned the motherinlaw again.
Mrs. Clarke, Olivers got a cold. Could you check on him this evening? Were expecting a flood of customers later and I wont be able to get back to you.
Cold? Whats his condition? Mrs. Clarke repeated, sounding just as surprised as before.
Still in bed. Just a slight fever, winters just begun.
Not just any winter, love! Its your job thats bringing all that rubbish home from the till! How many times must I tell youswitch jobs!
Mrs. Clarke, Im not weak! You yourself said Oliver could drop to the floor in a heartbeat when he was a child. The cold has come, so Im out of the picture
Ethel cut the conversation short. Mrs. Clarke was famous for exaggerating, and she could be at the door with a basket of herbal teas within the hour. Fine, have a look then, Ethel thought, Ive got to get to work anyway.
Sure enough, the motherinlaw arrived a short while later, lugging boxes of assorted herbs and a dry shirt for Oliver, muttering, Hes lying there in a damp shirthell only get worse. How did you miss this?
Mrs. Clarke, he was already sleeping, what could I have done? Ethel replied.
She headed off to work. A few hours later she felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. Great, now Im the one whos weak, she groaned, but she couldnt show it; she had to finish her shift. That evening she measured her own temperaturehigher than Olivers. She wanted to complain, but he was too preoccupied with his own misery.
My throats sore, mum gave me tea with raspberry and honey, felt a bit better, but now its worse again. What should I take?
Im feeling poorly too, Oliver said.
Then take something, he instructed, glancing again at his tongue in the mirror. Its still white, after all.
She couldnt afford to be sick, and she certainly wouldnt whine to anyone. If she mentioned it to her mother, shed get a call every five minutes with unsolicited advice; the motherinlaw would start blaming her, and Oliver would just drift off on his own.
The decision was made: swallow the pills quietly and keep going to work. The mortgage wouldnt pay itself.
All week Oliver complained about his weakness, insisting he felt terrible even though the thermometer stubbornly read 99°F. The motherinlaw kept dropping by with more concoctions and infusions. Ethel dreaded every visit; the house felt more like a battlefield than a home.
Oliver remained oblivious, drifting between the TV and his phone. When Marinawho had taken over the night shiftchecked his temperature on the fourth day, everything was finally normal.
The weakness lingered, but they managed. Oliver stayed in bed longer than anyone liked, demanding food in bed, temperature checks, and drinks on demand. Mrs. Clarke claimed hed always been frail as a child, and now, after five years of marriage, this was the first time hed truly caught a coldshe found it unbearable.
He soldiered through his minor ailments, constantly moaning about feeling terrible.
The following week the doctor cleared him. Charlie was collected from nursery and taken home. Tomorrow Oliver would be back at the warehouse.
Sipping tea in the kitchen that evening, Oliver mused, When I was a kid everything was easier to get through. Now you have no idea what Im dealing with!
Whats so special about it? Ethel asked, halfamused.
Try being in my shoes! Easy to talk when youre healthy.
Ive been there too! You just didnt notice.
Oliver gave her a skeptical look, then a sly grin, as if hed caught her in a joke.
Alright, love, lets get some sleep.
Ethel sighed, He never really notices, does he?
And so it wentjust another week of fevers, soups, and the endless British battle of keeping the house running while the weather outside turns as cold as the motherinlaws stare.
