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Voices and movement at the other side of the kitchen confirmed her statement, almost as if she’d magicked them. A paramedic walked towards them.
‘Not much for us to do here, then?’ His practised eye took in Alan’s bandaged hand and the bag of ice.
Leo supervised the administration of pain relief and Alan was settled into a portable wheelchair. Alex entrusted the bag to the paramedic’s care and gave Alan a little wave and a brilliant smile as he was wheeled out.
‘How do you do that?’ Alex had turned to him.
‘Do what?’
‘Look at you.’ She gazed at his shirt, inspecting it carefully. ‘You have one tiny spot on your sleeve, but apart from that you’re as clean as a whistle.’
Leo laughed. ‘I worked in A&E for a while, when I was training. You get an instinct for avoiding all kinds of spatter.’
‘And there was me thinking that you’d picked the knack up from your tail
or.’ She giggled.
‘Nah. He’d be delighted if I went through a few more shirts. Better for business.’ Leo stripped off his gloves, throwing them into the bag he’d put to one side for the bloodstained towel and dressings, and Alex followed suit. He walked over to a sink at the far end of the room, lathering his hands with liquid soap.
Suddenly she was next to him, holding her fingers under the tap. He tipped a little of the soap onto her hand, working it round with his fingers, expecting her to draw away from him at any moment, but she didn’t. She just stayed still, her face tilted downwards so that he could only see the top of her head, allowing him to lace his fingers with hers then rub her palms and the back of her hands.
If he’d strayed over the line, made a touch into a caress, Leo felt sure that she would have drawn back. But in his head he was way past practical, heading through sensual at breakneck speed and making for sexual. Before thoughts turned into actions, he reached for the dispenser, putting a paper towel into her hands.
Letting his gaze trace her arms and ankles wasn’t sexual either. It was strictly practical. ‘You’ve got a smudge on your leg...there.’
‘Oh...my prosthesis...’ She leaned over to scrub the dried blood with the paper towel, but her dress seemed to have other ideas, choosing this moment to slip from the knot she’d tied to keep it clear of her ankles. She grappled with it, pulling it away from her legs.
‘Here...’ Leo put his hands tentatively around her waist and she didn’t wriggle free, so he lifted her, perching her up on the counter top. She pulled her dress up, exposing her knees.
‘Some soap and water...’ She bent down, removing the prosthesis and examining it, the remaining part of her leg covered with a thin white sock and hanging unnoticed.
She’d talked about practically every issue that she faced in front of him, and he’d seen amputees remove a prosthesis many times before. But, watching her now, he was no doctor. He was her date for the evening, someone that she’d dressed up for. It was warming that Alex seemed to trust him on that level too.
‘I’ll get it...’ He pulled one of the towels from the dispenser and dribbled some soap and water into it. She held the prosthesis away from her dress and he wiped the blood away, making sure that there was no mark left on the silicone skin-toned covering.
‘That’s it... Oops, no, there’s some on my shoe.’ She unbuckled the pretty silver sandal and examined the dark stain covering the inside of the sole. There was a corresponding smear on the heel of her prosthesis, and Leo wiped that away.
‘Rhona’s going to kill me.’ She was balancing the prosthesis on her lap.
‘They’re hers?’
Alex nodded. ‘Yep. Four ninety-nine from the market. She sprayed them silver...’ She ran her nail along the straps and silver paint flaked off onto the floor.
‘We’ll get her another pair. I think I can spare four ninety-nine.’
‘No, we can’t. She got them from some stall that does recycled stuff. They’re a one-off.’
‘We’ll think of something. Do you want to go? The evening’s probably winding down by now.’ And Leo couldn’t bear to give her up to the other people in the room. Not now.
‘Yes. I’m ready to go now.’
‘Okay. Take your other sandal off.’
‘Why—is that stained too?’ She swung her leg up to inspect her foot.
‘No.’ Leo leaned in close, planting his hands on the counter on either side of her. ‘But there are three public relations options here.’
‘As many as that?’ The subtle curve of her lips in an otherwise solemn expression told Leo that she was teasing him.
