‘I really think you should let Lilith take a look, Finn. It doesn’t look good at all,’ Henry added.
‘Pair of bloody old women.’ Finn reluctantly peeled his t-shirt off to reveal the full damage from the night before.
‘Ohmygod.’ Henry choked on a mouthful of martini.
‘Well, someone didn’t use their safe word,’ I observed.
‘Hah. Safe word. I wish. Bad?’
‘Like someone’s fed your back into a paper shredder.’ I wished I’d slapped Laura Fenworth clean off her chair when I’d had the chance. I pulled another twenty from my purse. ‘Henry, be a love and go and get another round in, would you? Same again, with a double bourbon as well.’
Henry nodded gratefully, happy to be out of sight of blood, and I tipped the chemist’s bag out onto the table.
‘You buy up the whole shop?’ Finn asked as he edged his way out of the blood-stained shirt.
‘Nearly.’ I tore open a pack of sterile dressings. ‘I was denied the last of the pile cream, though.’
I took a closer look at the carnage. A few of these latest welts had begun to crust over, but others continued to weep blood where they had been rubbed open by the fabric of his t-shirt.
‘I’ll be as gentle as I can, but this might hurt. I’m sorry,’ I said, in between ripping off strips of surgical tape with my teeth.
Finn gave a soft laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I think you’re the first person to actually apologise for inflicting pain. Usually it’s someone’s hobby.’
He fell silent for a while as I sprayed a fine mist of antiseptic over the raw skin. It must have stung like hell. ‘You know, you are allowed to express your discomfort at any point during this process,’ I assured him.
‘Nah, just give us a hand digging my fingernails out of the tabletop when you’re done.’
It took seven separate dressings to patch up Finn’s back, and I took care to position them so that he would be able to move freely without them tearing away. I was glad of the focus: although there was no spare flesh on him, gardening had given Finn a tone and musculature that any gym-freak or model would envy – useful, I supposed, for someone who spent more time out of his clothes than in them. It was the first time I had ever felt guilt at finding a man attractive.
I smoothed down the final piece of tape. ‘There. All done.’
Finn exhaled. ‘Cheers for that,’ he said, just as Henry returned with the second round.
I handed Finn the bourbon. ‘There you go. For being a brave little soldier.’
The whiskey was dispatched in one mouthful. ‘S’better. So what’s in the other bag?’ Finn asked.
Finn
‘A dilemma,’ Lilith said.
‘Really? Didn’t know they sold them.’
‘Funny. It’s just that I know what I’d do if someone did this to me, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to go for the radical approach.’
‘Do what? What the hell are you going on about?’ I asked.
‘This,’ Lilith replied, and picked up my t-shirt and threw it on the fire.
‘What the – for fuck’s sake, Lili! I don’t have much of a bloody wardrobe to begin with!’ I watched in dismay as the thin fabric began to smoulder and catch.
‘You’d better wear this then.’ Lilith emptied the second bag out onto the table and handed me the contents: a smoke-grey cashmere sweater that I knew would fit me as if I had been there to try it on in the shop. It was the most beautiful – and expensive – item of clothing I had ever been given, and there was no way I could accept it.
‘I can’t take this.’
‘See? That’s what I knew you’d say. Hence the alternative fuel. From what I can see, it’s either put that on or walk back to the boat half-naked.’
I glared at her, furious beyond words, but she unblinkingly held my gaze for a good half-minute.
‘You know, your eyeballs are going to dry up any second,’ she said.
‘Oh, you are a fucking nightmare!’ I was an expert at knowing when I was beat. I reluctantly reached out and touched the down-soft wool. I could already imagine how it would feel next to my skin. ‘There was no need for this, Lili. I could have just rinsed my shirt under a tap…’
‘Yes, I know.’ She kept looking straight at me. ‘But you deserve better.’