right, of various ages and nationalities as I've said, but also of different types, from the slightly freakish (wild hair, wild eyes) to the mundanely straight (smartish clothes, bland faces).
Gillie came forward and carefully wrapped a linen towel around my arm, allowing the excess moisture to be absorbed before removing it again. Then it was Sandy's turn: she'd produced bandage and gauze from somewhere and proceeded to dress my arm, ever so gently laying the gauze over the burns first before applying the bandage.
'We oughta let a hospital handle this end of things,' I suggested uncertainly.
Kinsella was grinning all over his all-American face. 'No need for that, Mike. You're gonna be fine, you'll see.'
'The dressing is perfectly sterile,' reassured Mycroft, 'and you'd find a nurse would do no more than this.'
'They might give me a shot or pills or something.'
'Unnecessary, but of course you must do as you see fit.
I suggest you rest today and see a doctor tomorrow if you're still uneasy. There won't be any more pain.'
I found the last bit ridiculous—Christ, I'd been really
I was able to smile.
Mycroft, apparently, had already lost interest in me, and was studying Midge with that minimal smile (I was sure it was slightly mocking) on his face once more.
'And you are obviously Midge,' he said.
His gaze was a bit too penetrating for my liking, oddly bringing to mind Ogborn the lawyer's barely disguised interest in her all those weeks ago. I'd never looked kindly on dirty old men.
'I don't know how we can ever thank you enough,' she replied, and I could tell the tension was only slowly draining from her. Despite the room's dimness, I could also see that she was very tired.
'Thanks are neither sought nor required. I've heard much about you and you'll forgive me if I say I'm glad that you finally had cause, unfortunate though the circumstances were, to visit our Temple.'
Gillie and Sandy had gone to the windows and were drawing back the curtains. The light broadened and brought some cheer back into the room.
'Hub has invited us on several occasions,' said Midge, 'but with so much work in the cottage . . .' She flapped her hands at our standing excuse.
'Ah yes, Gramarye.' The name pleased him, his smile becoming warmer.
'You know our place?' I asked.
He didn't even look my way. 'It's been described to me. Tell me, young lady, are you very happy there?'
If Midge was surprised by the question, she didn't show it. 'Yes, very. We both are. It's a wonderful home.'
'In what sense is it wonderful?'
Now she was taken aback. 'It . . . it's so peaceful, so serene. And yet full of life. Lots of animals are attracted to it, and there's so much . . .' She floundered, unable to find the right words.
Mycroft found one for her. 'Vitality.' It wasn't even a question.
'Yes,' Midge agreed eagerly. 'Yes, that's it exactly.'
Mycroft seemed satisfied. He dried his own hands, then pulled down his sleeves. 'I would clearly love to speak to you again,' he said finally.
Midge just nodded, then turned to me. 'How are you feeling, Mike?'
'Me? Good. But I'll never play the piano again—' I broke off and groaned. I'd realized the consequences of my accident. 'The recording session on Wednesday—there's no way I'll be able to play.'
'Oh, Mike, I'd forgotten.' Midge bit into her lower lip and knelt beside me, her arm hugging my waist to comfort. I was too angry at myself to be comforted, though.
'I'm not sure I understand,' said Mycroft. 'Is there some kind of professional engagement you think you'll have to miss?'
'I'm a musician,' I explained. 'There was an important session set for later this week, but it looks as if I'm out of it.' I stared at my bandaged hand and felt like banging it against the table. I didn't, of course.
Mycroft sat facing me again and put his hand on my shoulder. 'Go home and stay there for the next day or so. Don't go out anywhere, just stay inside.' He leaned forward confidentially and said, 'Your hand will be completely healed by Wednesday.'
Grateful though I was, I had to restrain myself from shouting at him. 'Right,' I said evenly. 'I'll go home. I'll stay indoors. Thanks a lot.' I stood. 'We'd better be on our way, Midge.' My eyes told her: No more talk, no more thank-yous; let's just get out of here.
She understood perfectly.
But it was Mycroft who left the room before us. 'I'll say good-bye to you now,' he said, his voice revealing no resentment of my sudden brusque manner. 'Please don't forget my invitation.'
'I won't,' replied Midge—he'd been speaking to her, not me. She held out a hand as if to shake his, but he appeared not to notice; he turned briskly and walked from the room. I say 'appeared' not to, because I'm sure his eyes flickered downward at Midge's hand for a second and he involuntarily drew backward, the slight movement transformed into a complete turn as if his mind were already on other matters. I could have been wrong, but in the light of later events I think not.
'You've still gotta problem, Mike.' Kinsella was grinning at me, fingers slid into the pockets of his tight Wranglers.
We looked quizzically at him.
'A dried-out radiator,' he reminded us.
I nearly hit my forehead with my bad hand.
He chuckled. 'S'okay, I'll organize a can of water and drive you back to your wheels. Let's hope the engine's not messed up.'
'Yeah, let's hope.'
We left the house and I was glad to be outside, happy to feel the sun on my face again. Weird, but the only soreness I now felt was, in fact, on my face and neck where droplets of scalding water had managed to hit me. Even so, that pain was mild compared to what I'd experienced earlier. Parts of my chest may have felt a bit tender, but the coarse material of my shirt had prevented any real damage. My bandaged lower arm and hand was still tingling, but the feeling wasn't unpleasant.
'Incredible stuff,' I remarked to Kinsella as the three of us walked toward the red Escort.
'Huh?' he said, squinting against the sun.
'That green liquid you used on my arm.'
'Oh, that was nothing special. A cleanser, that's all, laced with antiseptic.'
'But it stopped the pain.'
'Mycroft stopped the pain, my friend.'
'That isn't possible.'
'Yup, we both know it.'
'Then why—?'
He flashed those sickeningly perfect teeth. 'Mycroft's a wonderful man.'
He seemed to think that was explanation enough.
We reached the car and Kinsella opened the rear door for us. Midge climbed in first and I followed, careful not to bump my hand against anything. He took the driver's seat and we waited for someone to arrive with the can of water.
Midge leaned forward in her seat. 'Are you feeling better yourself, Hub?' she asked.
He turned to her in surprise. 'How d'you mean?'
'You left rather hurriedly the other evening. We thought you'd been taken ill.' .
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pointed toward one corner of the house. 'Here comes Neil with that water.' He cleared his throat, then said, 'I guess I did feel unwell that time. Sorry, it was kinda rude of me to rush away like that. Something I had for lunch didn't agree with me, y'know?'
