And Then Came Paulette by Barbara Constantine, Justin Phipps Page B

there was no point. She indicated the metal cake tin on the shelf and told him to take the money due. He replied that they would see about that later, once she was back on her feet.
    Gérard joined Ferdinand and Guy in the kitchen. They gave him a glass of plum wine, which he enjoyed. And they waited for his diagnosis.
    It was indeed a case of flu. With a very high temperature. No need to panic for the time being. There wasn’t a great deal to be done, apart from wait and keep an eye on things. Take her temperature regularly. Make her drink lots of water. And broth, too. How about thyme tisanes? That would be fine, if they wanted. Had Mélie suggested that?He knew it. She was right, though. It was very good. If Marceline had headaches or her temperature went up, they should give her some aspirin or acetaminophen. If there was no improvement in three days, they should call him and he would come review the situation.
    As he left he turned to Guy and told him that he had heard about his wife. He said he was very sorry and asked how he had been. Guy replied that he would rather not talk about it for the time being. Gérard didn’t press him. They shook hands and he left.
    Ferdinand went off to buy what was needed from the pharmacy. He took the opportunity to do some shopping and before going back he stopped off at Mine and Raymond’s to borrow a thermometer. He couldn’t find his own.
    Now Guy and Ferdinand took turns at Marceline’s bedside.
    Guy had chosen to do nights. It made sense with his insomnia. Ferdinand would take care of the days. They had to take her temperature every two hours and record it on a sheet of paper to make a graph, like they did in the hospital. They also made a note of everything they had given her to drink. Guy had decided that. Ferdinand didn’t want to call into question the purpose of such a list. We all have our little ways, he told himself. It wouldn’t do any harm.
    It was the first time they had used a digital thermometer. Mine had explained how it worked. A few seconds in the earhole and like magic it rang and the temperature was displayed. Like in a science fiction film. Or Star Trek . They remembered Mister Spock with his pointy ears, giving injections without a syringe, or a general anesthetic simply by pressing two fingers on the neck. And woh! People collapsed, just like that, rigid on the ground . . .
    And what about teletransportation?
    They should get a move on, inventing that. So the two of them could give it a shot before they kicked the bucket.
    “Can you imagine it, Ferdinand?”
    “Can I just? Beam me up, Scotty!”

32
A Therapeutic Threat
    Marceline had a raging temperature. She seized Ferdinand by the arm and begged him to listen. With bright eyes, she talked about her dog, her old cat and her donkey. There was no one to look after them. If he would agree to do that it would be such a relief and she would feel so much calmer. Ferdinand’s immediate reaction was, of course, to say yes. But then a doubt crept into his mind. What if this became the excuse for her to give up? So he said no. And explained his reasons. The dog? OK she was nice enough, but to be honest he preferred it before when she wasn’t there. The house had been cleaner and tidier, without all those paw marks and hairs everywhere. Also, she scratched the doors, and that damaged the paint. It looked terrible; he would have to do another coat in the spring. The old cat? It reminded him of his oldest son. It didn’t like anyone and was totally self-centered: going out hunting, scratching tree trunks, marking out its territory and giving little Chamalo the odd clout. Not his kind of cat at all. And the donkey? Well, he wasn’t amused by him. Animals that had a mind of their own, refused to be shut in, and broke down their gates—they weren’t his thing at all. Given all the damage he’d caused tramplingin the vegetable garden and all the other places he’d put his great hooves, that donkey was a