14th January 2015

Ethan called me this evening.  I nearly fell off my chair. He hardly ever calls, unless of course he wants something.  Which of course he did.  Money.  He wanted to borrow some money so he could pay the fine from NYE. £2000.  I don’t have that kind of cash lying around.  There is no way he would ring mum and dad for that much money.  He would be in so much trouble.  And besides ‘borrow’ in Ethan’s world is a very loose term.

He was telling me that the big news of the morning in London is that the UK Prime Minister is getting a complete roasting in the media over two nurses testing positive for Ebola.  They had been on duty at the local A&E where three of the 8 Ebola patients were admitted before being transferred to Royal Free Hospital.  (Yay! My brother is finally paying attention).

The PM is now being accused of false promises.  Ethan, then read out bits and pieces from one of the daily rags; “it is likely that contamination may have occurred when the nurses removed their PPE” and one of the nurses is quoted as saying “there were so many false alarms in December, when we put the family in the ambulance, we took off our PPE and went back to our shift.”

I know he’s OK and he’s far enough away from the incidents, still it doesn’t make it any easier.  I might talk to Mum and Dad about sending him a plane ticket and getting him to come home for an extended holiday.  Until this all dies down.

Not long after our phone conversation I got a text from Ethan;