Chapter 30

I was soon glad of the pain keeping my head clear - getting me from the wayfarer into the rubber dinghy, back out of it again, into the car, out of the car, up the three flights of stairs to my flat all entailed a great deal of Kathryn's support, and that in turn meant an awful lot of close physical proximity that but for the regular stabs from my ankle would have been torturous. Even with the reminders from my injury my heart skipped from more than just exertion when she practically lifted me out of the dinghy at the slipway, clearly every bit as fit and strong as she looked and then some. As she helped me into her car and leant across me to fasten my seatbelt (which was really more help than was strictly necessary) my lips could only have been inches from her face and neck and I'll admit that I did breathe in a little, catching the scent of healthy, unperfumed skin, the slight hint of deodorant, fresh perspiration and sea air.

I found myself guiltily grateful that Debbie and Lynn had made plans that afternoon, as that meant Kathryn insisted on not only helping me up to my flat but also taking charge to settle me comfortably on the sofa and raiding my freezer for a bag of frozen veg, which she said would help much better than ice.

I was relieved that I tended to keep the place reasonably clean - cluttered, but not filthy, with papers and textbooks and course notes littered across my desk in the corner and my laptop with its various peripherals hogging the coffee table, but little else in the way of mess.

After helping me elevate my foot and position the bag over my ankle Kathryn had disappeared into my tiny nook of a kitchen; she now reappeared with a mug of tea, carrying it carefully over to where I sat on the sofa. "And the final touch," she said, sinking down next to me and passing the mug over. "I've been told tea has great healing properties."

"Thanks..." I grinned a little as I took the mug. "Do I trust your tea-making abilities?" I teased. "What with your weird aversion to hot beverages?"

"You'll just have to try it and see," she said, smirking.

It was slightly weak, and slightly too milky. Fortunately I wasn't terribly fussy about my tea, and I shot her a grateful smile. "Perfect," I said, "thank you."

"Of course. Anything for the invalid." Contrary to her slightly morose attitude this morning Kathryn seemed to be in very good spirits now; perhaps it was having to take charge, or maybe it was having some to take care of. "Can I get you anything else? A blanket... pillows?"

"I'm good," I said, nodding behind me to where a fleece blanket was hanging over the back of the sofa. "I'm a nester by nature," I confessed with a slight smile.

"Fair enough. When did you say Debbie would be here again?"

"She'll be back about seven, I think. I was going to make dinner." I smirked a little. "Looks like I'm ordering in."

"I guess so. I think I ought to stay until then, in case you need anything," she informed me then, an announcement which both delighted me and left my stomach fluttering with nerves. Had we ever spent time together without either something active to do or alcohol?

I thought about saying that she really didn't have to, but then, I really wanted her to, so... "All right. Do you want to watch a film? Play some Scrabble? Or I think I have a pack of cards somewhere..."

"How are you at Danish?"

 

And so we played Danish. Well, a little. The thing is, Danish (also known variously as 'Danish Bastard', 'Bastard', 'Shithead' and by a particularly whimsical couple I'd known at uni 'Pooface') was the ubiquitous card game of sixth formers and travellers. Since it was some time since Kathryn had been in sixth form there was no question where she'd learned it, and we were soon talking about the various places in the world we'd been, and the people we'd met along the way, rather than actually playing the game.

Kathryn, of course, had been just about everywhere (well, everywhere interesting) and met a good many people, and though she claimed not to be a 'people person' she still had plenty of amusing anecdotes to share about her experiences.

I had spent some time travelling between (and sometimes during) degrees myself, and had often travelled in rougher circumstances (although I'd never actually been into warzones as Kathryn had), so I had my fair share of stories myself, and the time passed merrily before I even looked at the clock again.

When I did I realized it was almost six o'clock and Debbie would be there within the hour. Kathryn, eagle-eyed as always, noticed my glanced at the clock.

"Almost dinner time. You probably want me to get out of your hair."

"I don't want you to, but sadly I think I should try to brave the shower somehow before Debbie gets back. I smell like sea air and sweat." I grinned sheepishly.

"Mm, the best smells in the world," she purred, stretching luxuriously and nearly causing me to fall off the sofa with feelings I shouldn't have been having. She smelled of sweat and the sea too. "You really shouldn't be standing on that foot," Kathryn said knowingly. "Does Debbie have a bath? You'd be better off going to hers and using that if you must rinse off."

Once I'd regained my composure I shook my head. "Her place is even tinier than mine. I'll manage though - I'll try to keep my weight off it and get it elevated again after," I said in an obedient tone.

"Mm. Very well. Just take care of yourself - I don't want to have to fight the good fight all by myself next week," she said, smirking as she rose from the sofa.

I had half hoped that she would stick around to make sure I got out the shower safely, but I was as relieved as I was disappointed I suppose that she was just leaving, and I nodded. "Thanks. For everything. I'm so sorry for taking up your afternoon like this."

"Oh, it's fine," she said, waving off the gratitude. "You saved me from going home and drowning my sorrows in work - I should be thanking you."

"Well, in that case you're welcome."

With a grin, Kathryn set about finding her things, which she had discarded in a rather random fashion in favor of getting me a comfortable seat and a cold compress. She moved confidently around the room, as if she had been there a hundred times and not just the one, and I couldn't help but think how typical that was - even when she was flustered or annoyed, as I'd seen her now, she seemed poised, confident, exactly where she wanted or was supposed to be. I did envy her for it - could that be all this... 'thing' was? This growing crush? Was it perhaps less that I wanted Kathryn and more that I wanted to be her, or at least to have her self-assurance?

Then she glanced over at me, her expression at once concerned and fond, and I had to admit that it wasn't just that I wanted to be like her - there was definitely something else to it. "Are you sure you're going to be all right? You have my mobile number, correct?"

I smirked a little at the formality of her word choice. "That's correct," I replied. "But I really think I'll be fine - I think the swelling's going down already."

"Mm. Okay. Just take it easy."

"I'll be in the office on Monday, you wait and see."

 

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