harmers

‘First the good news,’ Dr Malik offered a soft smile. ‘You’ve put on almost a pound.’  

She tugged her sleeve over her wrist. But not quickly enough.

He picked up on a scabbed puncture wound in the shape of keyhole, like something had been driven through it.

‘I didnae cut myself. Well, no recently.’

He cleared his throat and pulled his chair in closer. ‘Can I take a wee look?’

She let go of the nylon sleeve of a frilly white top she’d tugged over the meat of her thumb.

‘When did this happen, Jodie?’

‘Dunno.’

 His gloved fingers cool and smooth, glided over her skin. He noted the raw, weeping wounds on her palms, their edges a painful-looking purpura.

He couldn’t help wincing. ‘Sorry. That must be awful sore.’

She pulled away. ‘It’s awright.’

‘What have you done to your head?’

‘Nothin.’

‘Your forehead.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not blind Jodie. You’ve done your best to cover it.’

He reached across and flicked away a blonde fringe that made her seem both younger and older. ‘You been fighting with the o’er girls, again?’

Her eyes, deep and cool as a melting iceberg, weighed him up. She shook her head, No.

‘Jodie this is serious. Any o’er wounds? You or the o’er girls have got that you’re no telling me about? It’s not grassing. It’s common sense.’

Her long fingers pit-patted her side and she kicked off her flip-flops exposing her feet. The whitest thing in a sterile room. ‘I don’t know about any of the o’er girls. We’ve no been on speaking terms for a wee while. They’ve gave up hating themselves tae concentrate on fucking hating me. But they can go and fuck themselves a new hole.’  

‘Jesus!’ He cradled the sole of her right foot on his lap.  Deep, raw, slow-to-heal splits. ‘How can you walk?’

Girls’ feet in their unit kept growing in an almost normal way as their bodies shrank. The weeping wounds in her feet matched those in her hands but looked bigger and sorer.

She shrugged, ‘Wae great difficulty.’

‘We’ll need tae get you to a hospital.’

‘I thought this was a hospital.’

He rubbed her heal before lifting her leg down. ‘Don’t play funny-buggers, Jodie. This is serious. We’ll need tae inform your parents. Your mum and dad.’

‘Good luck wae that.’

Her chuckle came out all wrong as she clutched her side and the pain showed on her face.

His eyes narrowed. ‘What are you hiding, now?’

She rubbed at a spot above her hip and her hands seemed sticky.

‘Jesus, you’ve been stabbed.’ His voice had an urgency it usually lacked.

She batted his hands away. ‘Yeh, just want tae see my tits.’

His hands dropped to his side and he staggered backwards.

In the prolonged silence the fluorescent lights buzzed and she could almost taste the Chamomile herbal tea he liked to drink, which somehow she associated with a green-yellow colour and the calmness he exuded.

‘No Jodie, I don’t want to see your tits—not that you’ve got any, I suspect—but I don’t want you lying to me or bleeding. Not on my office floor. And for it to be blamed on another…’ He spat the last part out… ‘Another fucking useless Paki doctor.’    

She smiled. His outburst surprised her. Unbuttoning her blouse she offered him a quick swatch of her red bra. Despite herself her stomach clenched. She gave an involuntary jerk a moan escaped from the back of her throat as his gloved fingers brushed against the taped gauze and sanitary pads which kept her wound clean.

It throbbed whenever she breathed deeply. She hadn’t shown this one to any of the other girls in the unit. Even wee Claire when she was talking to her.

  She’d stood in the shower, hot water running red around her feet. The wound on her side was clean now, not bleeding, a reminder. Her torn skin was righteous.

The buzz bigger and better than when wee Claire said she fancied her, loved her a bit even. Wanted to kiss and exchange pinkie rings. Licked her clit.  Ate her fanny lips with rude lapping sounds without coming up for air and pushed her mouth in up to the nose. Her body buckled on waves of forbidden pleasure that was so wrong it was made right.

Claire didn’t understand why they could no longer be pinkie friends.

‘Jodie, listen to me. I don’t know who has done this to you.’ He shut his eyes and shook before opening them again. ‘We’ll need to call an ambulance and get you admitted to Accident and Emergency. The risk of permanent tissue damage and blood poisoning is extremely high.’

She sniggered. ‘You said I was getting better didn’t yeh? Said I’d put on a pound. There’s nae risk of blood poisoning. It’s the blood of the Lamb.’

You’ve got to tell me who it is and why you let him?

‘It wasnae he, it was a she.’

He reached for the office phone ‘Don’t talk in riddles, Jodie. We’ve no time.’

‘That’s where yer wrong, Mr Fancy Pants. She laid aw the lives I could live out to choose. And I chose this one. Here. Now. Fuck you. Yeh cannae dae anything. And yeh ne’er could. I’m bleeding for God, but yer full aw smelly shite.’