342
You return to the school bus to find your aunt sitting by Kate’s side. She is holding her wrist, as if monitoring her pulse, and her face is tense and lined with worry. Kate’s face is deathly pale. She is no longer perspiring and her breathing is almost imperceptible.
‘Where have you been, Cal?’ asks your aunt, in a tone of voice that reminds you immediately of your mother’s. You reply simply by handing her the tub of Atropine tablets.
‘How did you get … ?’ she gasps, and then at once her look of surprise changes to one of intense concentration.
‘I went to—’ you start, but your aunt cuts you off.
‘No … never mind now,’ she says, tersely. ‘There isn’t time for explanations. Kate’s slipping away. We must be quick if we’re to save her.’
Swiftly your aunt prepares an Atropine solution, using the tablets and some boiled water, and carefully she pours it, drop by drop, into Kate’s mouth. ‘You go and get yourself some rest,’ she says. ‘You’ve earned it. There’s nothing more you can do here. We’ll know in the morning if she’s going to pull through.’
Aching with fatigue, you leave the bus and find shelter in a derelict boarding house nearby. There you find a bed with blankets and settle down to some much needed sleep.
