‘Hey, that’s my fabric sample …’ Somehow she’d managed to locate the only clean piece of fabric in the whole place and wrap it around his hand, in the space of time it had taken Luke to half assess the damage to the flooring.
‘You’re using that colour in here?’ She raised one eyebrow. Whatever hesitation she might have displayed in the past was gone now. She was direct, calm and unmistakably in charge. Capital letters, In Charge.
‘No. When I got it back here, I thought something a little lighter would be better.’
‘Good. You’ll not be needing it, then.’ She rolled her eyes as Luke tried to move her fingers to inspect his thumb. ‘Stop that and come here.’
She hustled him down the stairs and thrust him into a battered armchair that the workmen used during their coffee breaks. ‘Peter.’ Peter was immersed in trying to disentangle a set of claws from his pullover and Katya’s voice increased in intensity if not volume. ‘Peter, will you take my keys and go and get the red bag from the back of my car, please?’
Luke took his chance. When she wore her vulnerability like armour, he could do nothing else but treat her gently. But now it was as if her true self had emerged, fearless and capable. He was the one who was at a disadvantage now, and he could afford to flex his muscles a little with her.
‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I need to see if I can get those bloodspots off the flooring before it stains.’
She dismissed him with a flip of her eyelashes and Luke grinned. ‘It’s already stained. You might be able to get it off with vinegar. If that doesn’t work, try a little bleach.’
‘I’d better go and see …’ He broke off as she wiggled the thumb of her free hand at him.
‘See this?’
‘Yep. I cut my hand, not cracked my skull.’
‘It’s an opposable thumb.’ She grinned at him. ‘You of all people should know how tricky things get without it.’
‘It’s a myth that we’re the only species with opposable thumbs, lots of animals have them. Gibbons, great apes. Some possums have two digits that oppose the other three. Giant pandas …’
‘So many for you to keep up with. Be a shame if you lost your grip.’ She lifted the corner of the fabric. ‘Seems to have stopped bleeding. Any loss of feeling in your thumb?’
‘No.’ Luke mimicked the movements of her thumb, circling and bending his own, and she nodded.
‘Okay. I’ll clean it and tape it up, but you need to get it looked at by a doctor if you experience any loss of sensation or movement or the wound becomes infected.’
‘Right.’ An idea was beginning to occur to Luke, and when she unzipped the red nylon bag that Peter had brought to her side, it began to gain form and substance. ‘Done this before?’
‘Once or twice.’ She began to clean the wound with alcohol wipes selected from the well-stocked first-aid kit.
‘I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to trust my valuable opposable thumbs to just anyone.’
‘I think you’ll be okay.’ No explanation. Nothing to reassure him, but then he was getting used to Katya giving the absolute minimum of information and leaving him wondering. Luke didn’t need it, though, her attitude and obvious expertise were quite enough.
‘It looks horrible.’ Peter had been watching carefully.
‘It does now. But the miracle of the human body is that it can heal. It’ll be just fine in a few days. When we get home, I’ll show you exactly what to do if anyone you know cuts themselves like this.’ She took a moment to check that Peter was happy with her answer and gave a little satisfied nod. ‘Now, have you chosen which kitten you’d like to take home with us?’
‘That one.’ Peter pointed to an all-black kitten, the boldest of the crew, and the one that Luke had expected him to take to. ‘Or that one.’ A little white one, with blue eyes and undoubtedly the prettiest. ‘Or perhaps …’
Katya laughed. ‘Well, I guess you’ve got a bit more thinking to do.’ She paused for a moment to concentrate on taping Luke’s wound and then glanced across at Peter’s rucksack. ‘Perhaps one of them has chosen you.’
Peter caught his breath and ran over to his rucksack, where the tiny kitten with the black patch over its eye had managed to work the zip open and was trying to crawl inside. Carefully he disentangled its claws, and let it attach itself to his chest instead. ‘It’s licking my hand!’
‘Can you let that one go?’ She turned to Luke, seeming to know that the weakest of the litter, the one that he had needed to nurse back to health, was the one that he most wanted to find a good home for. ‘Olenka will make sure he’s looked after properly.’
‘I know.’ He nodded over towards Peter and his new best friend. ‘All he needs now is someone to care for him, and it seems he’s found that.’
Luke’s gaze found Katya’s and she gave him a nod and a shy smile. Now that she was out of the loose-fitting top and apron that she wore at the coffee shop, he could see how slim she was. Almost painfully so. He wouldn’t have credited her with the strength to propel him downstairs the way she had just now.
‘All done.’ She regarded her work for a moment and then began to pack her things back into her bag, pulling her surgical gloves off and stuffing them into the pocket of her jeans. ‘You do need to see a doctor if—’
‘I know.’ Luke thought he saw an echo of his grin in her face. ‘I will. Thanks.’
She nodded, and instinct told Luke that now was not the time to press her any further. Or maybe it was, just a little. ‘I promised Olenka some things for the kitten if Peter chose one. They’re in my cabin. Will you help me carry them back?’ Luke made a slightly shamefaced gesture towards his injured hand. There was no point in wasting a good excuse.
‘Of course. Peter, you’ll be all right here for a minute?’
Peter didn’t even bother to answer, he was so absorbed with carefully stroking the small creature that had curled up in his arms.
‘He’ll be fine. We won’t be long.’ Luke made his way to the door, sure somehow that Katya would follow.
He could hear her footsteps on the gravel behind him. When he turned, she was hugging the red bag to her chest, and Luke unlocked the door to his temporary home and ducked inside, manners giving way to instinct. She’d make her own decision about whether she wanted to come in or not.
‘It looks cosy.’ She was craning her head through the doorway, keeping her feet on the rickety steps outside.
Luke shrugged. ‘It’s enough for me at the moment.’ A sofa bed that creaked whenever he turned over. His books, stacked neatly into a couple of packing cases in the corner and his clothes in a chest of drawers. A desk for his laptop, an old easy chair, and that was about it. He didn’t spend many of his waking hours here anyway.
‘It’s very tidy.’ She put the red bag down and stepped across the threshold.
‘I used to travel a lot, and I found that the best way to keep track of everything was to travel light and keep it orderly.’
She nodded. Most people would have asked where, or why he’d travelled, but he’d learned not to expect that from Katya. It would be too much like striking up a conversation, and you never knew what kind of information sharing that might lead to.
‘I was working with a unit of Rescue Dogs. We went wherever we were needed, often at pretty short notice.’ There was no reason why he shouldn’t volunteer the information.
‘Oh.’ She was still looking around intently, almost as if there was a prize on offer for shutting her eyes and remembering