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As they were wrapping up the case, Crystal blew her nose again.
- I'm afraid you'll have to finish these notes off without me guys, my headache is killing me, I seriously need to go lay down and sleep for like a week or something.
- Want me to walk you home? - Charles moved to get his coat.
- Nah, screw walking, I'm getting an uber. Which you do not need to take with me, as we both know you hate being inside a car.
- Only when it's moving!
- They do tend to do that rather a lot. - despite being his favourite person ever, Charles was clearky not spared from Edwin's cutting remarks, - Crystal, if you would like assistance getting home, I could go with you.
- Nah, thanks, I'll be fine, but I am taking the weekend off, I'll see you guys on Monday.
- Let us know if you need anything, yeah? - Charles waved the mobile phone Crystal gave them.
- Yeah, you need to put it on charging.
- Its feeding time is at 9pm.
- Sure, whatever, bye! - She made a mental note to explain to the boys again that treating the mobile phone like a pet was probably not the best approach, but figured that could wait.
***
"From: Crystal Palace
Monday, 9-37am
Hey, I'm down with the flu. Carry on without me."
- Charles!!!
Edwin never called with such urgency without a reason, so Charles phased through the wall of the cupboard and a book shelf and was next to him in an instant.
- Yeah, what is it?
- Charles, we just got this from Crystal. Look.
- "Down with flu" - ugh, that is not fun... I suppose she'll-
- "Down with THE flu" - Edwin interrupted, looking more distressed by the minute
- Sorry, what?
- "Down with THE flu" - that's what she wrote. Not "with flu", not "with a flu", with "THE flu"
- I'm sorry, you lost me, what does it matter if it is down with "A flu" or "THE flu"?
- Because, THE flu... surely you remember this is the short hand for the Spanish Flu? Crystal's got the Spanish Flu!
- Ummm, jog my memory?
- Well, there was the pandemic of the Spanish flu not long after I died. I did not know about it at the time, of course, but we have learned about it, it is in all the history books we went through while "catching me up on the world" as you put it! Millions of people, predominantly young people, died from it!
- Mate, that's over a hundred years ago!
- So?
- So I don't think it's that. I mean, why would it be?
- She said it herself "down with THE flu".
- Look, maybe it's not that bad? Let's go check on her, yeah?
***
It was that bad.
Charles had to concede that it definitely was: Crystal, red nosed, with red-rimmed eyes and a hoarse voice, half- sat on her bed, cocooned in a heap of blankets, with a mountain of used tissues by the side of her bed.
- What are you guys doing here? Didn't you get my message?
- We did, this is why we are here. - Edwin made two steps towards the bed and stood, ram-rod straight, observing the scene.
- Well, not much you can do, really - she stopped to fight a caughing fit.
- We're not leaving you behind, Crystal. We're here to help, yeah? - Charles was trying his best to remember what one did to make a living person better and was quickly realising he was drawing blank.
- Well, there's not much-
- Nonsense, with proper care, you will soon be right as rain. Now, where are your rubbish bins? - Edwin was all business, but Charles knew that tone of quiet inner panic, he just hoped Crystal did not notice it.
***
All said and done, they were at least able to clean the place up: the small mountain of used paper tissues was gone, Charles collected all the empty cups (a whole eight of them) and plates (just two, one had an unfinished sandwich on it) and even washed them (surprising, how muscle memory kicks in when needed, really).
- Well, now what? - He turned to Edwin as he dried off the last cup and put it away.
- Now we have to figure out how to get her proper medical attention. Preferably, from the living. I do hope medical treatment has advanced quite as tremendously as you seem to believe it has.
- Of course it has, you know that!
- I sincerely hope so.
***
When Crystal woke up she saw both ghost boys sitting quietly on the floor by the mirror, whispering to each other.
- Mmm, what are you still doing here?
- We've cleaned up a bit! And, um, we're wondering if you are hungry. - Charles was putting on his most winning smile
- Or thirsty.
- Or thirsty. Can we get you anything?
- Mmm, maybe tea? The kettle's in the kitchen.
- Coming right up!
Crystal vaguely wondered if Charles knew how to use the kettle, then decided that he must, on account of him being British and all.
- In the meantime, have you spoken to a doctor? Or, perhaps, at least to your parents?
- I have looked it up, like I said, I have the flu.
- But it has not been confirmed, by an actual doctor?
- No, but what are they gonna say? Take paracetamol, drink tea, come back in two weeks of it doesn't get better. I am doing that. Speaking of, probably should find out if I have fever...
- Shouldn't you tell your parents?
- What are they gonna do? Besides, last time I checked they were in New York opening up a new exhibition. They are not hopping on a transatlantic flight to feed me chicken soup. And I don't want them to.
Edwin wanted to say that perhaps they would want to know their daughter is potentially deadly ill. Perhaps they would be better at caring for her than the two ghost teenagers. What he said instead was "I will go check how that tea is coming along. You were planning to find out if you had fever". He got up and disappeared behind the kitchen door.
***
- Charles, we need help.
- Yeah, I could use some help with this bloody stove, doesn't react to ghost fingers, does it. Can't switch the bloody thing on.
- But she said she had a kettle.
- Yeah, and I filled it up and put it on the stove, but it's not switching on!
- Hmmm... let me try...
- So I'm at 39.6, which explains... what the fuck are you two doing?!
- I'm sorry, Crystal, your stove doesn't react to ghost fingers. I've been trying for the past ten minutes, it just doesn't.
- Thank god for that! This is an electric kettle, Charles! - She plonked it angrily at the circular base nearby and pressed the button. - Jesus! You're British, how do you not know how to make tea?!
- I do know how to do the rest, I think? Also, this thing did not have a cable, how was I supposed to know it was electric?! Ours always had a cable...
- Oh, I think I was able to switch on the stove, you had to press this lock button for a while... - Edwin seemed quite pleased with himself
- Great, now switch it off.
- Of course. How do I do that?
Crystal swallowed a small pill, observed that Charles did put the tea bag in the mug and declared she would be going back to bed.
As the kitchen door closed behind her Charled turned to Edwin.
- Yeah, we do need help.
- Remember the nurse that came in like a year ago? With the first world war ghost? Perhaps we could start with her?
***
- I would love to help you, dear, but it has been a long while since I've been a ghost, perhaps someone more recent could help? I will ask around in the hospital, I know there are a few ghosts there, perhaps Anne would help...
***
The woman standing in front of Crystal was definitely a ghost. But a rather recent one, judging by her appearance and manners.
- Look, Crystal, I am sure you already know all I have to say, but it is important to stay hydrated, keep a look on your temperature, take paracetamol, you can supplement this with ibuprofen if needed, but overall plenty of fluids and you should be ok in a couple of weeks.
- Cheers.
- She doesn't eat. That is not normal, is it? The living need to eat, whe know she normally eats several times a day. - Edwin's voice was coming out strained, like he was trying to keep it even.
- Yeah, lower appetite is normal. Just make sure she drinks enough: tea, water, juice, milk, whatever she wants. Soups are also good.
- Any soup?
- Well, I suppose, chicken soup is traditional, but yeah, any soup will do. Good luck you two, I am sure you will take great care of your friend. Get well soon, Crystal!
- Bye!
She left, and Crystal decided that sleeping some more sounded perfect. She pushed the blanket over her head and closed her eyes.
***
- Well, that was not too bad, was it? She seemed quite optimistic.
- That she did. So perhaps things are not too dire... But we do have to be careful. And then there is the matter of soup.
- Soup?
- Yes. Do you know how to make chicken soup? Or any soup at all?
- Uh... no. I can probably make spaghetti, though. But I've never done soup, my mum usually was the one to cook. Have you?
- No. We, uh, we had a cook - Edwin's cheeks went slightly pink at that.
- I mean, we could probably find out? I bet one of the many libraries you love going to has some sort of cook book section.
- Yes, good thinking, Charles! And we still have some money from the more recent cases, so we could get the ingredients from the shop. And then it is just like following a potion recipe.
- Should be easy enough for you to do, seeing as you're the potions master here, eh?
- As I keep telling you, potion preparation is just a matter of careful measuring and following instructions. Most of them do not even require incantations, of which I am quite sure you would be capable anyway, should you have the wish to be.
- Don't think soups require any incantations, if I'm honest...
- Well, then, I will go to the library and get the recipes, you stay with Crystal, I feel we should not leave her alone in this state.
- Sure!
***
- I am honestly stumped by how imprecise these cook books are. And this is the best one I could procure! They are all like that!
- Like what?
- Like they are for people who know what they are doing!
- Ok, let's see. This one looks ok: onion, carrots, chicken, spices and herbs...
- Which "spices and herbs", though?!
- Add salt and pepper to taste.
- How, pray tell, am I to determine the amount of ingredients "to taste?" when we can not taste anything?! They are so imprecise no wonder there are tons of them, perhaps they are just printed to keep people buying them in the hope to get better instructions.
- Yeah, pretty sure that's not it, mate.
- You never know with these things...
***
Crystal woke up feeling more tired then when she went to sleep. The boys have been arguing about something in stage whisper on the kitchen just before she knocked out, but right now she could only see Edwin sitting on the stool by her bed, reading something.
He noticed she was awake and closed the book.
- How are you feeling?
- Ughhh, feeling like shit, if I'm honest.
- Perhaps we should measure your temperature? And then I could bring you tea.
- I should take a shower... or maybe a hot bath. Hot bath would be good, right?
-I... let us start with the temperature, shall we?
- What's it say?
- Oh, it is at 41.3, that is not good, not good at all!
- Bring me some paracetamol, will you? And some water, please?
- Anne said you need to take it as per instructions, here it says every four hours, but not exceeding the dose... when did you last take one, Crystal?
- Uh, don't know.
- I will be making a note of it from now on.
- Knock yourself out.
Edwin brought her the pills, water and eventually even tea. She had to admit, the boys were starting to get pretty decent at making tea on request, even found where she kept sugar, which was no small feat as she did not remember where she put it herself.
- Is there anything else I can do for you?
- I dunno, Edwin, I feel like death, honestly can't think straight. You could read to me, I suppose?
She expected a cutting remark in response, something about seventy years in hell and pulling herself together.
Instead Edwin seemed to utter something in between a shriek and a sob, clamp his hand over his mouth, and rush out into the kitchen.
***
- She is running high fever for three days now! One and a half that I have been personally measuring and recording.
- I know, I know, but we are doing what Anne told us to do, right?
- We are giving her the medicine as told, but the fever keeps creeping back up!
- Yeah, so it should be fine, yeah?
- She asked me to read to her, Charles!
- Oh... did you-
- No, I bloody didn't! I'm not... I can't... We can't let her die young! She's got her whole life ahead of her! What good are we if we can't prevent that from happening?! - angry tears were rolling down Edwin’s pale cheeks now, he hastly wiped them away.
- Edwin...
- Have you got everything needed for the soup?
- Mate...
- I know she didn't ask for it, but we have to get her to eat, keep up her strength!
- I... I'll get you the recipe book, shall I?
***
- Morning guys.
- Hey Crystal, it is actually two in the afternoon.
- Oh... um
- We've made you some lunch!
- Wha-
- Look, it is still warm. Well, we think it is.
Edwin carried in a tray table with a large bowl of something steamy, spoon and a neatly folded napkin.
- Wow!
- I am afraid you will have to add salt and pepper yourself. To, uh, to taste.
- Cheers! By the way, what is that?
- Traditional chicken soup. I have cross-referenced it across several books, and the key ingredients and the preparation process are largely the same everywhere. I hope it meets your expectations.
- I don't have-
- Crystal, will you please eat it? Please, just a bit, yeah?
- 'Course I'll eat it! I was gonna say I did not have any expectations, that's all. Thank you for making it!
- You are most welcome. Now eat, please.
She tried a spoon: the soup was quite bland but certainly not bad. She added some salt and pepper and took a sip directly from the bowl.
- Thank you. I needed that...
- Oh, glad it met your approval.
- Where did you... where did you guys get the tray table? Never seen one before, this is definitely not mine!
- Oh, that is mine. I used to have one just like that when I was little, we were offered this one a few years back as payment, so we've had it since then. I know it is quite a frivolous thing to have for a ghost, but... we usually play cards on it. And well, now it found its proper use after all...
***
It turned out, that Edwin did have a knack for cooking. Over the course of the week, he has gone through half the soup section of the book and seemed to grow more confident with each subsequent attempt. Charles has always loved watching him make potions, but watching him cook, helping him prepare and lay everything out as the recipe book suggested was something else. It was nearly like they were suddenly alive and cooking together, something so mundane and yet foreign, it made him want to pause and look at it all closely to ingrained it in his memory forever.
Charles was sitting by Crystal's bed, with the strict instructions to measure Crystal's temperature once she was up, while Edwin was out getting more chicken and some spices from the next recipe.
- Mmm - Crystal stirred - what time is it?
- It's, uh, midday. How're you feeling?
- Meh, but better than yesterday. Oh, I see you picked up the latest Richard Oseman!
- Yeah it came in the post yesterday, I hope you don't mind me...
- Nah, it's fine. Read me a bit, will you?
- Crystal. Stop this.
- What?!
- Stop... stop asking us to read to you! You're not... you're not gonna die! It's gonna be ok! You said yourself, you are feeling better! The soup is working, innit? So just... just stop saying that.
- What are you on about? Of course I'm not gonna die! What does this have to do with you reading to me?
- Oh. So you're not... you're ok then?
- Well, getting there, I think. I still don't get what-
- Edwin read to me. When I was dying, he read to me until, well, until I became a ghost, didn't he? So since then we, uh, we read to each other.
- Oh. That explains the other day... I'm sorry, Charles, I didn't mean to alarm you. I just figured it would be nice and would give you something to do. But never mind, this is what podcasts are for, right?
***
It took a whole two weeks till Crystal was back to her usual self.
She was spooning some new, rather spicy, concoction (with prawns this time) and watching the boys sort out through the letters to the agency.
- Did you really stop taking cases for the entire time I was sick?
- Why, of course.
- Like, you just spent all your time here, watching over me like two ghost guardian angels or something?
- Well, we took turns, someone needed to go get the food and all...
- Also, Charles, I must say, I did not expect you to be such a good cook! Did your mum teach you?
- Oh, that was not me, that's all Edwin!
- YOU know how to cook?!
- I didn't know before, no, but it is not that different from potion-making, so...
- We really didn't want you to die from the Spanish flu... And he is a quick study!
- The... you thought I had the Spanish flu? As in, the thing that killed people like over a hundred yours ago?!
- Well, you told us yourself! You said you had THE flu, what else we were supposed to think?!
- You know what, never mind, I don't think anyone has cared for me this much, like ever. Thank you, both of you.
- You are most welcome. Now, I have narrowed it down to five most interesting cases. Would you like to go through them?