A thousand apologies, there I was moaning at the poor standard of English amongst the natives and I go and mess up the last Hangman, sorry if that had you puzzling for hours. I have since corrected it. The answer was "It's late, good night Harry," so super bonus prizes to Flossie, Hopelesslyhalfhearted and Amy for getting this one, despite the fact I hadn't included enough letters!
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm so pleased you're having fun.
Harry's bloods were retaken later that morning. It was a different nurse and this one looked less intimidated by the whole affair, as if he spent every day masked, suited and double gloved. Maybe he did.
Harry had never watched Saturday morning TV before. He made a mental note that he never would again. Going out for a run on even the coldest Saturday morning had to be better than watching endless cooking shows and idiots talking rubbish. They were all supposed to be celebrities, but he'd never heard of any of them. He wasn't sure if that said anything about him or the people on the shows.
The food that had been passed through the hatch to him was hardly appetizing but at least it was adequate. He'd begged at breakfast for a packet of opal fruit to blank stares until he had corrected himself and asked for Starbursts and someone had obviously taken pity on him, as there was a packet hidden under one of the disposable lunch plates.
He waited for the blinds to move on Nikki's side of the divide but the clock continued to tick and time passed inexorably slowly but there was no change to the position of the blind in Nikki's room. He'd tried to quiz the nurse earlier but he claimed no knowledge of the occupant of the next room.
He couldn't help worrying about Nikki. He'd not been able to see in, so he didn't know if she had continued to vomit during the day or whether it was just first thing this morning.
This morning?
First thing this morning?
Harry suddenly stopped pacing the room and went back and leant against the window. He put his hand on the glass. This possibility with one of his girlfriends had been a recurrent nightmare of his for years. All the way back to Penny really. It couldn't be; could it?
He closed his eyes and imagined the possibility. He let his mind wander; envisaging various scenarios and the usual horror that overtook him in his nightmares and woke him up fighting for breath was conspicuously absent. He felt quite the opposite in fact. But it couldn't be true. She had told him herself that nothing had happened. Surely he hadn't been so unmemorable? If only he could remember what had actually happened that night.
It was after 5 o'clock when Grumpy Doctor came back in, without his safety suit on and told him he was free to go. The blood work, and analyses had all come back negative. He was a free man.
"What about Nikki?" had been his first question.
"Dr Alexander has been displaying more symptoms than you, we are keeping her here for at least another 24 hours," the doctor explained.
"But it's just norovirus isn't it or something like that?" Harry suggested.
"There are all manner of reasons why a person experiences bouts of vomiting but until the tests come back we won't know for sure, but what I do know, is that you can leave but Dr Alexander has to stay."
"Can I see her?" Harry asked.
"No!" the doctor exclaimed. "It would go against every health and safety guideline we have."
"Then I won't leave either," Harry insisted.
"This is not a hotel!" the doctor announced. "This is a medical facility and you are well enough to leave."
Harry began choking and retching.
"I'm not feeling too good, Doc," Harry stuttered through his coughing. "You'll just have to keep me here to make sure."
"Dr Cunningham! You are perfectly well, you have loathed every minute of your confinement and now you have been asked to leave, you are refusing? What is your problem?"
"I'm not leaving without her," Harry said petulantly.
"Stay then! But I'm leaving the door open; just make sure the nurse on reception knows if you decide to leave."
"Can I have my clothes back?" Harry asked.
"No, they were incinerated. What you don't like the scrubs?" the doctor suddenly laughed. "I'm sure you're right Harry, the most likely explanation is that something else is making Dr Alexander sick, but I'm not taking any chances. Stay here as long as you want, but try not to cause any trouble."
"I'll try," Harry agreed and then suddenly added.
"If you were in any other place than this isolation facility and a healthy young woman presented to you with extreme fatigue and vomiting, what would your diagnosis be?"
The doctor looked back at Harry, one eyebrow raised.
"Do the test…Please…" Harry begged.
"Is there something I should know?" the doctor asked.
"Not that I'm aware of," Harry said honestly.