Recovery

Mrs Eames has had a very close shave,
the doctor boomed, directing his humour
towards Uncle. But I see no reason why
she cannot continue her recuperation at
home. This was fabulous news. The
students hung onto their leader’s every
word, as if he was dispensing powerful
religious truths. I caught Aunty’s eyes.
They were glinting. I thought she might
suddenly bound out of her bed, and
bear-hug me. The doctor was still
speaking. Uncle was nodding his head
wisely. I will organise for Mrs Eames’
discharge. She must rest up for at least
a fortnight. No unnecessary stress. He
shook Uncle’s hand, biffed William under
the chin, ignored me entirely, and swept
out of the room, his acolytes close on his
heels.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist

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