The Virus

Laura - February 3rd

"Dolly, will you sit down and eat your dinner? Mummy can't do that right now, she's on the phone."

I turn my back to face the wall, tugging at my hair, which is matted with sweat and baby food. I think back to a time when my hair was always styled to perfection, and I'd never dream of going outside without my full face of makeup on.

"Honestly, why does anyone have kids?" I laugh mirthlessly. "They're such hard work."

"Yeah, and it unfortunately doesn't get any easier," my best friend Pippa replies knowingly. She has two teenagers, which give her no end of grief, whereas my four are all under the age of ten. The future does not look good for me.

We continue our conversation about the letters all the parents have been given by the schools about a new bug going around. It's not unusual for this to happen. Teachers always have to be overcautious, to stop illnesses spreading as rapidly as head lice does among children. This one, however, seems...I don't know how to describe it, more severe?

"It's basically telling us that if our kids show any sign of illness, anything at all, we have to keep them off school. Do they not understand? What are we supposed to do with them? I have a job, you know."

I nod along, agreeing with Pippa's whining, though also trying to read between the lines of the letter. I'm a little more concerned than Pippa because I watched the local news yesterday. I always try to do that, so my life isn't completely and utterly consumed by my children. It's the closest thing I get to adult conversation most days. I heard about this bug thing then. Honestly, it sounds dire. The report freaked me out; even the news reporter sounded worried. I always notice these things, because before I was a mother, I was a psychology lecturer, so I decided to do some more research into it.

I searched the Internet for hours and couldn't find a single thing out about it, which I find strange. You can find out about everything online, but not a peep about this. It's on the news, but not online. Something is off, although I don't know what.

"All the other mums are kicking off about it too. We need school to give us a break. We have the children all the time, and school hours are our time, now we're supposed to sacrifice that over every sniff and tummy pain?" Pippa's words skim my ears, though I don't take them in. My mind is too consumed with trying to figure out the link...the thing that's all wrong about this. It's probably something simple, something obvious, I just can't place it.

A tugging on my t-shirt pulls me out of my trance.

"Mummy, I feel..." I shake my head at Dolly and mime at her to sit down.

That child will do anything to get out of eating her dinner sensibly. My one-year-old is easier to manage than her.

"I guess, maybe..." I try and organize my words carefully so as not to anger my already riled up friend. "Maybe we should do as they say. Maybe it would be better to avoid—"

"Oh nonsense!" Pippa interrupts "The teachers are just worried about getting ill themselves. Our kids go to school poorly all the time. Moping around at home won't do them any good, it only teaches them to be lazy."

I let her continue with her rant, knowing I'm not going to change her mind. Once she's set on a campaign, nothing will shift Pippa's opinion.

I scan the room, looking at the faces of all my children in concern. I have to look out for any signs of being ill, I need to be extremely vigilant now, more so than before. Glancing at all four of them in turn, I don't spot anything unusual, no snotty noses or pale faces.

Hopefully, they'll be fine. I'll be careful, and hope all the parents with children in their class will do the same. According to this letter, if even one of them gets it, they all will.

I sigh deeply and try and find a gap to end this conversation. If I don't eat something soon, I'll faint with hunger. I can't remember the last time I got to eat my food when it was first cooked. Cold fish fingers have become my staple diet.

"Okay, mhmm, yeah, well I have to—"

A loud bang interrupts me and I whirl around, wondering what on Earth the kids have done to each other this time. I find Dolly collapsed in a heap on the floor. I'm about to shout at the others, to ask her who pushed her off her chair, when I notice she's convulsing...and foaming at the mouth.