eccentricity I liked him. We both seemed shy in the presence of
others, but were confident within ourselves. It was unthinkable
that someone only a couple of years older than me should
be facing the prospect of his own death. Mortality was not
a concept that played any part in our existence. We were still
young enough to be immortal. “How is he?” I enquired, shaken
by the news. “Basil’s been to see him,” she continued, “and
says he’s pretty depressed: the tests are really unpleasant, and
a boy from St Albans in the bed opposite died the other day.”
She sighed, “Stephen insisted on being on the ward, because of
his socialist principles, and would not have a private room as
his parents wanted.” “Do they know the cause of this illness?” I
asked blankly. “Not really,” Diana replied. “They think he may
have been given a non-sterile smallpox vaccination when he went
to Persia a couple of years ago, and that introduced a virus to his
spine – but they don’t really know, that’s only speculation.”
I went home in silence, thinking about Stephen."
