Rimmer was kept in isolation at the hospital overnight while they awaited the results of his blood test, but around ten a.m. the next day a nurse came and informed him he was clean and was ready to be discharged. He immediately went to the reception desk to enquire after Lister.
His heart was thumping sickly in his chest. He had no idea what had happened to Dave once they reached the hospital and had stayed awake almost the whole night worrying about it. He was all too aware that it might not be good news. All the woman at the desk could tell him was that Dave was still in a quarantined area of intensive care, but she promised to let the doctor know that Rimmer wanted to see him.
He waited for a ridiculously long time in intensive care – almost four hours - before someone finally came to speak to him. The doctor explained that Dave was still sliding in and out of consciousness, and although his temperature had dropped slightly he was still very ill.
"We've been giving him a combination of antibiotics and steroids," she said, consulting her clipboard, "But, at the end of the day, that's all we can do. It's just going to come down to whether or not the body can shake it off, I'm afraid."
"What are his chances?" Rimmer asked anxiously.
"It's impossible to say," she told him gently, "He's at a good age to be able to fight it; not too young and not too old. But menfluenza is a very potent bacterium, as I'm sure you're aware, and it's not uncommon for it to overcome even people who've been previously very healthy. We're just going to have to wait and see."
And so that was what Rimmer did.
Every day he came back to the hospital and every day he was told that nothing had changed. The deadline for his shore leave was looming, but he knew in his heart that he couldn't leave without Dave. If theory he could, if necessary, always send up a message telling them that he had a friend in hospital and would catch up with the 'Dwarf via shuttle later on. It wasn't unheard of for people to miss the shuttle for whatever reason and have to catch up at a later date, but it did mean it might be that much harder to get Dave away from his unsavoury associates with sufficient speed. They might have to wait weeks for another shuttle that would take them to Red Dwarf, which meant that Dave would either have to go back to the brothel or spend that time in hiding with Rimmer.
Assuming that Dave was actually going to live, of course.
One evening as Rimmer left the hospital, feeling tired and depressed, he saw a figure in the car park outside the main entrance, leaning against one of the vehicles and smoking a cigarette. Although it was dark, he recognised him at once. It was Charlie.
Rimmer put his head down and kept on walking, pretending not to have noticed him. He didn't think Charlie would recognise him from the one brief occasion he'd seen him at the brothel, but he didn't want to risk it either. Maybe he just came to visit Dave and see how he was; he tried to reason with himself. Yeah, right. Rimmer didn't believe it for a second. They were watching the damn hospital to make sure Dave didn't do a runner. They'd actually staked out the entrance so that when Dave got out of there – if he ever did – there would be Charlie waiting. I'll give you a lift back, shall I? All very nice, very caring. And there wouldn't be any real way for Dave to say no.
Rimmer wished he could kill the bastard and the even bigger bastard who'd sent him, but his only choice was to walk on by and pretend he'd never seen him before in his life.