Chapter Twenty
RAFFERTY WOKE UP THE following morning with a pounding head and limbs that felt elephant-heavy. He ached all over, too. He went hot, then cold. He laid his head back down on the pillows and groaned.
‘What’s the matter?’ Abra asked. She leaned over on an elbow and laid a hand on his forehead. ‘You’re burning up.’
‘I think I’ve got the flu,’ he told her weakly, in his best, looking-for-sympathy voice.
‘Sure it’s not just a bad cold? You men always tend to promote your illnesses above their station.’
He shook his head, and wished he hadn’t, as his brain felt it would explode. ‘Not this time,’ he whimpered. ‘This is much worse than a cold. You’ll have to ring the station. I can’t go in like this. Imagine if I infected the entire nick? I’ll speak to Llewellyn later, let him
