LITMIR.BIZ

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a good shove with his leg. She sat down heavily on top of the wasp. A few seconds later, her heart-rending screams brought the others running.

      By the time the girls got back, the kids were sitting further down the beach, watching a Punch and Judy show. Billy had his arm around Connie who was sporting a large white bandage on her leg. Mary listened in horror as Tom explained about the wasp.

      ‘Good job the St John Ambulance people were so close,’ he said, pointing to the first aid post a little way along the beach.

      ‘Poor little mite,’ said Dottie. ‘Couldn’t you have stopped her?’

      ‘She fell,’ said Reg, re-arranging the knots in the handkerchief on the top of his head. ‘Couldn’t do a thing about it, love.’

      The Punch and Judy show over, Gary was looking very listless again.

      ‘I think you’d better take him to see Dr Fitzgerald tomorrow, hen,’ Mary told Peaches.

      Peaches nodded miserably.

      ‘Get Dottie to run over and fetch him when we get back,’ Reg suggested.

      Dottie turned her head away. Oh God, she couldn’t possibly face Dr Fitzgerald again. Not after last Saturday night. Whatever was she going to do?

      ‘You’ll go and get the doc for Peaches, won’t you love?’ Reg insisted.

      She turned her head and everyone was looking at her. ‘Yes, yes, of course I will.’

      They arrived back in the village at six thirty. Jack dropped Reg off at the Jolly Farmer and then went on to Mary’s place. It took a while to get all her sleepy kids off the back of the lorry, but they all called out their goodbyes.

      ‘It’s been a wonderful day, hen,’ Mary told Peaches. ‘Now don’t you worry about your Gary. He’ll be all right.’

      Jack took Dottie, Peaches and Gary home. The little boy kept whimpering as if he was in pain and Jack had to carry him indoors. As soon as they were safely inside, Dottie and Jack drove to the doctor’s.

      ‘You’ll wait for me?’ she asked.

      ‘Of course,’ he smiled.

      Dottie was relieved. She’d been frantic with worry. She didn’t really want to face the doctor again. Not so soon. But she couldn’t refuse a friend, could she? Not when her child was so sick.

      She drew some comfort from hearing the engine still running as she walked up the garden path to the big house. Dottie rang the doorbell and waved to Jack. All at once, he drove off. She almost panicked and ran after him, crying, ‘Come back …’ but then she realised he was only turning the lorry around. She turned to face the door. The glass panel grew dark and she knew someone was coming.

      It was Mrs Fitzgerald. ‘Dottie!’

      ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs Fitzgerald,’ Dottie began, ‘but is the doctor here?’

      ‘He’s not on call today,’ Mrs Fitzgerald said crisply. ‘You’ll have to go to Dr Bailey over at Heene Road.’

      ‘Who is it?’ said a voice behind Mrs Fitzgerald.

      ‘It’s Dottie.’

      ‘It’s all right,’ said Dottie quickly. She could hear Jack’s lorry drawing up outside the gate again. ‘We’ll go to Dr Bailey.’

      Dr Fitzgerald snatched opened the door and Dottie jumped. She couldn’t look at him in the eye and was immediately tongue-tied. ‘I didn’t know it was your day off … um … I wouldn’t have …’

      ‘Is it your Reg?’ he asked all businesslike and formal.

      ‘It’s little Gary Smith,’ Dottie gabbled. ‘Peaches and Jack are really worried. We thought it was just a cold and a bit of sunshine would do him good so we’ve been to the beach all day at Littlehampton. He’s been too poorly even to join in with all the other kids.’

      ‘I’ll get the car,’ said the doctor.

      ‘It’s your day off,’ Mariah reminded him.

      ‘Don’t trouble yourself,’ said Dottie at the same time. ‘Jack’s here. He’ll run us over to Heene Road.’

      ‘I’ll just get my bag,’ Dr Fitzgerald insisted.

      Dottie hurried back up the path. She wanted to get into the lorry before the doctor suggested taking her as passenger in the car. Jack was leaning anxiously out of the cab. ‘He’s coming,’ she said, swinging open the door and climbing in beside him.

      ‘Thank God for that,’ said Jack with feeling.

      Dr Fitzgerald followed them to number thirty-four where Jack and Peaches lived. It made Dottie feel uncomfortable knowing that he was right behind them. She’d have to deal with this. She had to find a way of making it clear that his advances were totally unwelcome, and then they would both know where they stood.

      ‘You will come in with us, won’t you, Dottie?’ said Jack as they pulled up outside.

      ‘Well …’ Dottie began.

      ‘Peaches would be glad of a friend.’

      When they all got inside the house, Gary was already in bed. Dr Fitzgerald, Peaches and Jack went upstairs and while they were all gone, Dottie busied herself making some tea for when they all came down. After a few minutes, she heard Peaches cry out, ‘Oh no, no!’

      Dottie dropped the lid of the teapot and raced upstairs, her heart pounding with fear.

      Peaches was sobbing in Jack’s arms. Little Gary was lying very still on the top of his bed while Dr Fitzgerald was pulling down his pyjama top. For one awful second, Dottie feared the worst, but then she saw Gary move his arm very slightly. ‘I’ll go back home and telephone for the ambulance,’ Doctor Fitzgerald was saying.

      ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Dottie gasped.

      ‘I’m going with him,’ said Peaches.

      ‘I’m afraid that will be impossible, Mrs Smith,’ said Dr Fitzgerald, shaking his head. ‘Not in your condition.’

      ‘But I’m his mother!’ Peaches wailed.

      ‘What’s wrong with him?’ said Dottie looking wildly from one to the other.

      Dr Fitzgerald closed his bag with a loud snap. ‘I’m not one hundred percent sure,’ he said, ‘but it looks to me like poliomyelitis.’

      Eight

      Billy didn’t have the energy to run all the way back to Aunt Peaches. He was much too tired.

      It had been a grand day. Memories of the Punch and Judy show, paddling in the water and that huge ice cream Uncle Jack had given him kept going over and over in his mind. It had been his best day ever. Even better than the day Phil Hartwell let him hold the dead frog his cat had killed.

      It was late. It was already way past his bedtime when Mum came back downstairs after she’d put the twins and Susan to bed and said, ‘Run over to your Aunt Peaches and find out how Gary is.’

      He’d said, ‘Aw, Mum,’ but he’d known it was no use arguing. Tom looked at him over the top of his evening paper. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to: the look was enough. Billy walked as fast as he could all the way there without stopping.

      Uncle Jack’s lorry was parked outside the house and the cab door was wide open. The doctor’s car was there too. And right in front of the house, there was an ambulance as well. Billy hung back. If the adults saw him, they’d be bound to send him back home again.

      ‘This is no place for nippers,’ Uncle Jack would say.

      The ambulance door was wide open too. Billy could see the bed and all sorts of boxes and things. He tried imagining what it was like to be an ambulance driver. It was bound

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