Characters: Hercule Poirot, Cpt. Arthur Hastings, Miss Lemon
Summary: Poirot is trying to take care of Hastings, who is ill.
Words: 466
POIROT’S VIEWS ON HOW HASTINGS CAUGHT THE FLU
I was lying in bed with a cup of some sort of steaming, greenish liquid, with Poirot by my side criticizing my winter clothes.
‘I was sure one of us will catch the flu there! But non, you had to go. To meet Roger Chiswick, to breathe fresh, marine air.’
‘I had my winter coats with me. I say, it was just bad luck.’
‘Hastings. What did I tell you? You should have thicker winter clothes!’
‘Yes, I know that, but…’
‘No buts! Look where they brought you! In bed! With flu. First thing when you get better, we go and buy you some winter coats. At my tailor.’
I took advantage of him drinking some hot chocolate and said, ‘What about Miss Pennington? Nobody gets my size as exact as she does. She also never uses…’
‘Maybe, but it is most obvious that she doesn’t care wether you live or freeze to death in her clothes! And I would kindly ask you not to offend Monsieur Bourgerois. He is a most great tailor!’
‘Yet he doesn’t know me!Miss Pennington makes my clothes for 15 years. I can’t stop going to her just like that. It would be very rude!’
‘Hastings, please calm down, do I have to remind you that you are ill? Your temperature is most worrying. Miss Lemon, another tisane for poor Hastings, please!’, he continued apparently not observing my irritation towards the thought of letting someone else than dear Miss Pennington make my clothes.
‘Poirot, I have just a bit of temperature and I cough, I don’t have any kind of dangerous or exotic disease. And I firmly refuse to drink another cup of your tisane!’, I cried. But Poirot was a man who didn’t usually listen to other people’s opinion. Specially when it came to his tisane, recipe of which he invented himself and was most proud of its effects.
‘No, no, Hastings. You must drink it.’
‘Why would it be better than a cup of hot tea with fresh milk?’
‘Because Papa Poirot created this magnificent tisane which cures flu almost instantly. Unlike your English “hot tea with fresh milk”.’ Tipical for Poirot.
Fortunately, Miss Lemon soon appeared in the doorstep and gave us some “bad” news. ‘Monsieur Poirot, I am afraid we don’t have cucumber powder anymore.’
‘But that is most unfortunate.’, he replied. ‘I shall go and buy some. Miss Lemon, would you supervise our ill friend while I am out?’
‘Yes, Monsieur Poirot’ With this being said, he left, dressed with 3 pullovers and an overcoat.
I thanked God for this opportunity, got up, washed myself, dressed up and then sat down to read my Times with a cup of good, hot English tea with milk by my side.
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