Victor had just found out about DNA. He knew that a recent Act had been passed to make blood testing available to determine parentage. If, in fact, Mike had lost his memory, it would help to determine who his parents were.
Later that afternoon, Victor saw that Stuart was back. He was troubled.
“I want to know whether you’re my real father,” Stuart said.
“Go and ask them whether they can do the DNA here and now,” Victor pushed.
Stuart went out of the door and came back half an hour later with a large black nurse armed with a couple of small blood vials.
“Sawubona, numsaan. Hello, big boss.” The nurse smiled and got around to the business of taking the blood.
“That will do,” she said with a thick Zulu accent.
She turned to Stuart: “Now it’s your turn.”
“All finished,” she said with a flourish that would put a killer of oxen to shame. “The results will be available in a few weeks,” she said proudly. “The doctor will give them to you.”
“Could you give me a more accurate time frame than that?”
“No.” And with that the nurse walked out of the room.