‘But why isn’t she wearing...’
‘How the fuck do I know? She just washed up like this.’
Henry didn’t move from the doorway.
‘Blanket,’ I snapped. He scuttled to the stove top and passed me one of the blankets he’d had warming for our return. I wrapped it around Lilith then and sat on the warm tiles of the kitchen floor and hugged her close.
‘Aren’t you meant to rub her arms or something?’ Henry offered, hovering over us. I considered flinging the cast iron doorstop at his head.
I remembered a stupid little leaflet I’d been handed years ago – Keeping Safe Outside – Tips for Sex Workers. Some do-gooder’s funding finally put to use. ‘No, you thick bastard. Need the blood going to her heart, not her fingers. Just make yourself useful and put the kettle on, will you?’
‘But will she be all right?’
I looked at Lilith. Her eyes were shut and her fingertips and lips were pale blue. She was breathing at least, but so lightly that it took agonising seconds to check.
‘I don’t know.’ My voice cracked as I spoke.
Henry approached me with a second blanket. ‘You’re shivering. Let me -’
I bunched my fist, ready to swing at him. ‘I swear to God if you so much as touch me, I’ll...’
Henry was saved by a muffled, tuneless rendition of ‘The Town I Loved So Well’ drifting down the corridor; Coyle O’Halloran, drunk and hungry, staggering to the kitchen to raid the larder, and bringing the potential to destroy everything.
‘What do we do now?’ Henry pleaded.
‘‘We?’ You’re going to get out there and stop that fucker from coming in here. If he catches me and Lilith here like this, we’re dead.’
Henry stood there, rooted to his immaculate slate floor tiles in panicked silence, the proverbial rabbit in the headlights.
‘Get out there or I’ll bloody kill you myself,’ I hissed, and Henry grabbed his cup of tea and shot out into the corridor.
I held Lilith close and silently promised her that I would fight Coyle to the last breath if he set foot over the threshold, no matter how hopeless my odds would be.
Suddenly there was an enraged squeal, followed by the thud of something – or someone – heavy hitting the wall.
‘You clumsy fucking poof twat!’ Coyle roared. ‘You tryin’ to castrate me or somethin’? Jesus, I’m fuckin’ scalded to the bone!’
‘Sorry! So sorry!’ came Henry’s wittering, pathetic apology in reply. ‘I tripped – didn’t expect to meet you... was just going back to my room with a drink...’
‘Shut up and get out of my way, faggot. Gonna to have to change my fuckin’ cacks...’
I held my breath, fully expecting the door to swing open and a furious Coyle to burst in on us. Miraculously, the sound of his shuffling, pissed gait receded, and Henry staggered over to the kitchen table, empty mug in hand. Blood dripped from his nose and splattered onto the oak.
‘Did you just fling tea over his bollocks, little man?’
‘Id wad de odly thig I could thick ob.’ Henry tore himself a sheet of kitchen roll and held it to his face. ‘Ow.’
I began to shudder with silent laughter, and Lilith stirred in my arms.
‘Something funny?’ she asked, and I planted kiss after relieved kiss in her sodden hair.
‘Just Mr Masterson here, taking one for the team at last. All that practice makin’ a brew, just for this moment. Sent Coyle back to his room with a boiled ball-bag.’ Despite his injury, Henry managed a shy smile of pride.
‘Easy for you to say. Bloody hell, I’m cold.’ Even with the blanket swaddling her, Lilith was shaking in my arms. ‘Any more of that tea still in the pot, Henry?’
‘Oh God, Lili, you scared me shitless out there. What the hell was the deal with stripping off, huh? Going swimming in a December storm not hardcore enough for you?’
‘Wetsuit ripped. By the lock-up. It was either ditch it or drown.’ She nestled a little deeper into my arms and sighed. ‘You know, I think I may have underestimated just how tricky that whole thing was going to be.’
‘Really? Well you do fuckin’ well surprise me, Ms Bresson. ‘Cos it looked like a piece of piss from where I was standing.’ I kissed her again, this time on the lips, relishing the taste of her steadily warming skin. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and not at the bottom of the lake. I’ve still got you, and that’s all that matters.’