Read Chapter 10: — FIRST SHIFT

On Christmas morning, Ethan met Arthur Wells.

Arthur was sixty-eight, thin, stubborn and wearing a red scarf over a surgical mask. He had just finished chemotherapy at St Anne's and had been waiting outside for transport for forty-five minutes.

A doctor had posted in the volunteer group asking if anyone could take him home.

Ethan found him leaning on a cane.

"Mr Wells?"

"Depends. Are you the man who's going to lecture me for coming to chemotherapy during the apocalypse?"

"No. I'm the man who's going to lecture you for not bringing warmer gloves."

Arthur grinned.

Ten minutes into the journey, he became nauseated. Ethan pulled over, worried it was the outbreak.

"Chemo," Arthur said between breaths. "Cancer. Very boring. Not contagious."

"You came alone?"

"My son and daughter-in-law are doctors. Respiratory and infectious diseases. They offered to come. I told them if they did, I'd disown them."

Ethan looked at him in the mirror.

"You're serious."

"They're needed more where they are. I can be sick by myself perfectly well."

Arthur had spent thirty-five years as a secondary-school headteacher. He was amused by almost everything and impressed by very little.

When Ethan described the volunteer driving, Arthur frowned.

"Don't call what you're doing small. That's vanity in reverse. A hospital doesn't work because one heroic doctor walks in and saves everyone. It works because cleaners clean, porters move beds, pharmacists count doses, drivers bring staff, neighbours bring groceries and somebody somewhere answers a phone. Systems survive because boring people do boring things reliably."

"I'm boring now?"

"Deeply. Be proud."

At Arthur's block, Ethan gave him his number.

"Next appointment, call me."

"I may exploit this shamelessly."

"That's the idea."

Arthur climbed the steps slowly, red scarf bright against the grey morning.

Ethan waited until he waved from the window before driving away.