Page 37 of Never Too Late
‘I’ve no idea where you get your stubborn side from.’
‘Obviously it’s you, Mum,’ she replied and handed me my robe to swap for the towel. ‘What happened?’ she asked while she grabbed a flannel and ran it under the sink tap then handed it to me.
‘What’s that for?’
Sash moved me in front of the mirror. There was a small gash on my head and my nose was bleeding. Excellent.Bienvenue à Paris!I chose to deal with my nose first as that was gushing the most.
‘What happened?’ Sash repeated her question. ‘Did you get dizzy?’
‘No.’ I went to shake my head and thought better of it. ‘I just forgot how sodding slippery bath oils are. My foot slipped as I was getting out and I hit my face on the side of the bath.’
Sash scrunched up her face in sympathy. Something I was currently unable to do.
‘Ouch.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Shall I get you some ice? I put some in earlier when you went out.’
‘Thanks. That’d be great.’
‘Let’s get some food delivered tonight,’ she suggested on her way out.
I followed her, now holding a new flannel to my nose which, thankfully, seemed to have slowed its flow.
‘No, I don’t want to mess up our plans.’
‘Honestly, Mum. I’d rather. It was a really early start and the thought of getting out of my joggers now is less than appealing. I’d happily just sit on the sofa with you and watch something on the tablet and just veg.’
My whole face throbbed and a headache was now knocking at the door to join the pain party but I didn’t want to spoil things.
‘I mean it, Mum. I didn’t want to say anything earlier because I know you were looking forward to going out.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Very.’
‘OK. Do you want to choose something?’
‘Done. Go and get your jamas on and I’ll get a plaster for your head and some ice for your face. Hopefully, it won’t swell up too much if we do that.’
* * *
That hope was sadly misplaced. The following morning, after a sleep that was helped by the codeine painkillers I’d had to take for my face, I padded to the loo and caught a glimpse in the mirror of my face.
‘Oh. Bugger.’ I blew out a sigh and then padded into the living room.
‘Morning. Oh, wow!’
‘I don’t do things by halves, do I?’ Ironically, I was closer to that particular truth than I’d meant as I had not only one, but two, black eyes. The cut on my head was healing nicely. I’d refused the plaster last night, hoping that leaving the air to get to it would heal it faster. In one way it had. But beneath the now nicely healing thin line was a purple, bumpy bruise.
‘What are you going to do about dinner tonight?’
‘Urgghhhhhh.’ I tipped my head back momentarily before discovering that made it hurt more. ‘I’d forgotten about that with all the excitement.’
‘I can try and put some make-up on over it for you, if you like?’
‘Can you try that now? I’m desperate to go to market but I’d rather not look like I’ve gone three rounds with Frank Bruno before stepping out the door.’
