Chapter 7
Mike woke up early. He hadn’t slept that well as Pete had been tossing and turning all night, finally falling asleep a few hours ago. He’d spent all yesterday in bed, feeling worse than he had the night of their gig. His temperature had risen, and he’d had no appetite or felt like doing anything. He’d said he was aching all over, and it seemed he had come down with a fever. Pete had pulled the sheet off himself and was lying on his front in his boxer shorts.
Mike stretched out his arm and felt Pete, who seemed to be hot and clammy. He couldn’t see all of Pete’s face, but it looked like he had come out in a bit of a rash. Mike could see some spots on his cheek.
He got up and opened the window a little more to try and get some more air into the room. Mike decided to get dressed and leave Pete to rest while he was still fast asleep. He went to the kitchen and refilled the jug with cold water and rinsed out the glass he took back and left on Pete’s bedside table for him.
Mike went back out to check on the coffee he’d started when he’d been in the kitchen earlier. A disheveled Micky came out of the upstairs bedroom and headed to the spiral stairs. “You okay, Mick? You’re not feeling ill as well, are you? I could do without having two invalids to look after today. Pete’s no better. I think he’ll be staying in bed again today.”
“I’m tired, hot, and got a bit of a headache—you wanna feel my forehead, see what you think?”
Mike went over and felt Micky’s forehead. “You do seem to have a bit of a temperature. I suppose you want to spend the day in bed too? I hope Davy’s okay That’s the last thing I need tight now, looking after all three of you—that would be hard work.”
“No, he’s fine. He’s in our bathroom getting ready to go out. Another date as usual. I might lie down on the couch for a while. Can I have some toast please?”
“Go on, then. I’ll make the toast as well for you…anything else sir would like me to do?”
Micky lay down. “Could you cover me up with a blanket, and a glass of water would be good, if you don’t mind? Thanks, Mike.”
Mike came over and put a glass of water on the coffee table. “The toast won’t be long. At least Pete’s not as demanding as you. I wonder if I can get him to eat anything today? He needs to get rid of his fever as soon as possible—we’ve got the gig tomorrow.”
“We’ll probably be okay by then.” Micky took the plate of food off Mike and sat up to eat it.
Mike got up close to him, checking his face. “I don’t think you’ve got the same as Pete—he’s come out in a bit of a rash, and you haven’t got that.”
“What kind of rash?” Davy asked, appearing behind Mike and making him jump.
“Davy, don’t sneak up behind people. Pete’s got some spots on his back and face. Might be a heat rash, with him being hot and stuck in bed? Come see what you think?”
Davy followed Mike into the bedroom, and went over to the bed to check on Pete who had now moved onto his side. “Mike, come and look at these spots. They look like chicken pox to me—I thought he had the vaccine the other day?”
“He was, so how come he’s come out in it? Do you think I should call the doctor? See if she’ll come over and check him over?” Mike was looking for more spots on Pete’s body, noticing some on his shoulders, neck and back. Pete started to wake up, looking up at Mike and Davy. “Morning.”
“Morning, Pete, how are you doing? Mike’s gonna call the doc, we’re not sure but it looks like you’ve got chicken pox.” Davy said, sitting beside Pete on the bed.
“Yeah, babe, I’m gonna go and call her now, see if she can do a home visit.” Mike left the room, leaving Davy with Pete.
“I feel bad, Davy. I think I kept Mike awake most of the night because I struggled to get comfortable and didn’t get much sleep myself. I don’t want to be a burden to him—he doesn’t need to look after me all day either.” Pete moved, sitting up a little, propping himself up with his pillow.
“Pete, Mike’s like a mother hen—worrying and fussing over people is what he does best.”
“But I can just rest here on my own all day. I’m sure he’s got other things to do. You ought to go over the bass parts you know, because I doubt I’ll be able to play our gigs this weekend.”
“I guess you’re right. We’ll be a man down…more for Mike to worry about.”
“So be good if you get in there first and say you’ll practice to help him out. He’ll appreciate that, I’m sure, Davy.” Pete lay back down and sighed.
Mike came back in about five minutes later. “She’s on her way, and she’s quite puzzled about this, says she’ll be here as quick as she can. I’ll ask her to check over Micky as well—he says he’s not feeling well.”
“Well he told me he’d had chicken pox, so he shouldn’t have that. It’s probably sympathy pains, knowing him. I’m going out soon, Mike, but I’ll be back in the evening and will get some practising done on the bass—I guess you’ll need me to cover for Pete.”
“That’s great, Davy, good idea. Thanks for that. Is there anything else you need, Pete?” Mike asked, sitting down on the bed to join them.
“No, nothing, thanks. I’m just so tired. I still don’t think I could eat anything either.”
“Well, I’m gonna go wait out in the living room for the doctor. Try and stay awake until she’s gone. Davy, are you gonna come out here, let Pete rest?” Mike went out to the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. “Do you want a drink, Davy?”
Davy came out of the room behind Mike, going over to talk to Micky. “I hear you’re not feeling too good either, Mick? Have you got any spots? Let me check?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve just got a fever, you know, I’m tired and got a headache. Would you get me some painkillers, please, Davy, and refill my glass with water? Thanks?” He passed the glass to Davy.
“All right. I’ll get you both. The doctor will be here soon for Pete.” Davy went over to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door, which Mike went to answer. The doctor they’d seen the other day was behind it. “Hi…Mike, isn’t it? I’ve come to see Peter—would you show me where he is so I can examine him, please?”
“Yes, please come in. I’ll show you to the bedroom.” Mike pointed at Micky on the couch as they walked by. “Would you mind taking a look at Micky for us? He seems to have a fever too.”
“Of course, I can. Just let me see how Peter is first?”
Pete sat up as the doctor came into the room. She took his temperature, checked his blood pressure and heart beat and did all the basic tests, and looked at the spots which seemed to be getting worse and redder. “Well you’ve definitely got a fever. Best to take pain medication for that, and the spots are chicken pox. You’ll probably have more appearing over the next few days. The spots will go into blisters, which will be very itchy, so you need to be very careful, as scratching them will leave you with pock marks or scars.”
Mike looked puzzled at her. “How come he’s caught it? You gave him the vaccine to prevent this kind of thing only the other day.”
“Well the vaccine contains a live form of the disease, and, as you know, I rushed a little when Peter fainted, so I mustn’t have diluted it with enough water, so he got too strong a dose which has caused this severe reaction to it, I’m afraid. I’m so sorry. I can’t apologize enough.”
“It’s okay, Doctor. Accidents happen—just as much my fault for distracting you when I fainted.”
“Thanks, Peter, and I won’t charge for this visit. I brought along some analgesics and a few bottles of calamine lotion for you, too. It’s not contagious while the spots are out, but things will be a bit uncomfortable for a few days, so make sure you drink plenty of fluids and try to eat something.”
Mike looked between the two of them, giving the doctor a look to let her know he wasn’t happy or as forgiving as Pete was to her. “I’ll make sure he does that. Can you come and look at Micky for me now, please? I won’t be long, Pete, and I’ll be back.” Mike reached down and squeezed Pete’s hand.
He led the doctor to the couch where Micky was laid out reading a magazine. “Hi, Micky. Do you mind if I just check your temperature and a few other things?” the doctor asked.
Micky put the magazine on the coffee table, moved his legs and sat upright. “Okay.”
The doctor worked for a minute or two. “Well your temperature seems pretty normal…you don’t feel too hot either. Where are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?”
“I’ve got a headache and my arms and legs ache a little, but I did take some painkillers a while back so it’s not too bad at the moment.” Micky was staring at Mike who was watching the doctor.
“It could be just a fever. Keep taking the analgesics, but I think you’ll be fine tomorrow. It’s nothing to worry about. You’ve got my number if you need anything else. I need to go, so I can start my surgery appointments. Again, I’m sorry about what’s happened.”
Mike didn’t say anything to her, just showed her to the front door and watched her leave. Davy looked over to him. “What’s the matter, Mike? What was she on about?”
“She gave Pete a too-strong vaccine which caused him to get chicken pox! He told her he wasn’t bothered, as he fainted and distracted her, so he feels he’s as much to blame, but she was the one who made the mistake and now he’s ill because of it.” Mike looked annoyed and ready to kill someone.
“I’m going out in a minute—shouldn’t you see if Pete needs you?” Davy asked Mike. He waited until Mike was in the bedroom and out of earshot before talking to Micky. “You’d better not be faking being ill, because Mike’s in a bad enough mood already—we don’t need him any worse. Just make sure you’re gonna be okay to rehearse later, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Micky replied to Davy, who was taking his jacket off the coat stand. “See you later.” Davy just shook his head at him as he departed through the front door.
Mike had entered the bedroom and went and sat by Pete. “I brought you some painkillers. I’ll get you some water to take them with.” He poured Pete a glass from the jug on his bedside table. “The doc’s left some lotion for you if the spots start to get itchy. How are they right now?”
“My skin feels like its burning up, I feel so hot. I wonder if a cold shower would help, but I don’t feel like I’ve enough energy to get outta bed though. I’m sorry if I’m a pain.”
“Don’t be stupid, Pete, it’s fine. I like looking after you. I don’t mind at all. Come on, take the tablets.”
“You’re stuck with an idiot like me. Everything I seem to do turns into a mess! You could’ve been off on that tour this week—I’m holding you back so much, Michael. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, enough talking nonsense like that. You’d do the same for me if I was ill, wouldn’t you, and you ain’t holding me back in any way. I wanna be here with you. Don’t forget that. Listen, you need to try and eat something. It might help. How about some toast?”
“Okay, I’ll try some. I might try a ginger tea—it should settle my stomach. Would you make me a cup?”
“Okay, I’ll go and get both for you. Just rest and stop putting yourself down, babe. I won’t be long.” He headed to the kitchen, put some bread in the toaster and started on Pete’s tea. “You want anything, Mick? I’m having a coffee—I’ll pour you a cup too.”
“Yes, thanks, Mike. I’m thirsty. And can I have some more toast as well, please?” Micky sat up, moved over and put the TV on. Finding some cartoons, he got comfortable to watch them.
“At least you’re managing to eat, so you can’t be too bad, and you look better than you did earlier.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be okay to rehearse later, if that’s what you’ve got planned. I’ll just rest until then. Hey, you got any ideas how you can stop Pete from scratching when he gets itchy?”
“I’ve got this calamine lotion the doctor gave me, so that, I guess.”
“My mom put socks on my hands when I had it, so I couldn’t burst them when they turned into blisters, so that why I’ve got no scars. She did say I slept a lot more too.”
“You always sleep a lot, doesn’t matter if you’re ill or not.” Mick got the tea and toast ready and took it to Pete in the bedroom. “Here you go. Ginger tea for you, and try and eat as much as you can.”
“I will. Would you call Annie and tell her not to bring the twins here, just in case? Don’t need anyone else catching this? Oh, and call to let Ronnie know? They want to get started as soon as possible and this will hold things up a little.”
Mike sat with Pete while he managed to nearly eat a slice of toast and drink all his tea. “I’m sure the girls won’t mind a little delay, and we haven’t had all the test results back yet, have we?”
Pete passed the plate back to Mike. “Sorry I couldn’t manage too much. I’m sorry about letting you down tomorrow. I can go through some bits with Davy on the bass. I’m sure you can sort a new set out. I hope I’ll be okay for the wednesday gig
“It’ll be odd without you, but we don’t have to do the gig though. I’m sure Ronnie won’t mind.”
“It’s not fair on the others if you don’t do it. I’ll be fine and I can sleep through while you rehearse later, even though listening to you play without me will be weird.”
“Well, I’m gonna call a few places, see if we can play somewhere else so you can rest without a noise, but we can’t go anywhere until Davy returns.”
Mike left and came back a little later. “I’ve called Annie and she sends her best. She says she and the twins will stay away a while, and Ronnie’s fine with us playing as a trio. Says it’ll at least be an improvement on Micky and Davy’s duo the other weekend and she and Vicky are cool with waiting a bit longer. I managed to get hold of Nyles and he’s out this evening, so now Davy’s back and we’ve had dinner, we’re gonna go and rehearse there. You fine with that?”
Pete nodded. “It’s probably for the best. Can you just refill my water and leave me some painkillers before you go?”
“I’ve got something else too for you.” Mike handed over a walkie talkie. “Micky had a set upstairs, so I’ll take one with me and leave the other here beside you, so you can shout if you need me.”
“Okay, and will you come running back to me straight away?” Pete laughed.
“I might, but first I need to do something that’s for your own good… Close your eyes—it’s a surprise.”
“A good surprise?” Pete asked, sitting himself up.
Mike leaned over, kissed him and took hold of Pete’s hand. “I doubt you’ll think so.” He put a sock on each hand and taped them on, tightly but as comfortable as he could make it. “Sorry, babe. This is another Micky idea—we need to keep you away from the temptation of scratching those spots. Don’t want you messing your pretty self up with pock marks, do we now?”
Pete protested, but knew he had no chance against Mike.
“If these are still on you and intact, I might treat you when we get back home,” Mike said, leaving the bedroom with a cheeky wink and the raise of an eyebrow.