This choice: She checks on the scratch • Go Back...Chapter #3She checks on the scratch by: Tonberry   Evie's arm itched. She plucked tentatively at he bandages. Rubbed them attempting to soothe. Still it itched. With difficulty she she unpinned the dressing, slowly unraveling it. Evie bit her lower lip in apprehension. Although, the bleeding has stopped substantially, there appeared to another problem developing. The gash, a couple of thumbnails long, has taken a worrying and sickly green colour. Clearly it had become infected. Fecking bush. She squeezed around the wound a bit - eliciting not only pain, but droplets of a greenish liquid - presumably pus. Oh dear, oh dear... She hyperventilated inwardly - for she was always slightly given to panic.
Patrick Farrell had worked in Dublin for many years. In addition to this, he had been married in Dublin and remained just so for many years. He perused the flowers meditatively. Their anniversary today....The problem is you just can't express how you feel in a flower - not everyone just matches up...roses perhaps? Undecided he maneuvered the veritable Congo of flora towards the desk where the girl was. A charming girl; moontouched skin; heavy dewy eyes; a few rogue slivers of russety hued hair had come loose about her face like fingers of a sweet breeze. Must be about little Mary's age. He reflected often on his youngest daughter - in London, making a name for herself soon so she will. He smiled kindly at the girl. She seemed preoccupied. He hazarded a look at what she had engaged herself with. In her upper arm was a rend in her flesh that she had let turn apparently septic."Christ alive!" he blurted out.
Evie snapped her head up and attempted to hide the offending arm from the little man. "Sorry! I -"
"Let me see that, lass..." the man interrupted, adding, when she did not budge, "come on I'm a doctor."
Unwillingly she consented stretching out her arm for him to examine. The man peered at the wound from behind round spectacles. He certainly looked the part. "How'd you do this to yourself?" he said at length. Her head was quite foggy from the heat of the day and her pathological shyness was beginning to show itself.
"Uhhh, I grazed it on a plant...I dunno" The last part came rather sheepishly.
"You did a lot more that "graze" it my girl" he said kindly, still looking at the wound - there was something quite unusual about the shade of green - not that green was ever a good colour for the body to turn...medically speaking. He went on "and when did this happened"
"Only this morning..."
The little old man looked up in surprise. "Eh?" Evie smiled awkwardly back. "Right" he said "hang the flowers, we've got to get you to hospital lass." Evie protested "Oh no...really?" She had a tendency to avoid hospitals - ever since mum-
The little man had bustled around the counter and was ushering her out from behind it. "Come on, else you may lose your arm." Evie, again, acquiesced...there was something kindly and grandfatherly about the old man. The old man, who it became increasingly obvious was actually a doctor, remarkably adroitly redressed and pinned the wound after being directed to the counter's drawer, where the fresh bandages were. The man conducted himself with a dexterity and grace that Evie wouldn't have thought possible after watching him pottering about the store. Fretting about what to get his wife?...Bet he did something stupid.
"This yours?" the old man said gesturing towards a coat on a hook.
"Yes" she peeped. He old man detached it from the hook and quickly retrieved her shop's keys then he slung the coat over his shoulders and hustled her towards the door. Little presumptuous of hm to rifle through her pockets.
Outside was fearsomely hot; Dublin had no business being his hot. Sweat has already began to form on her brow lightly; she could feel her underarms perspiring too - "Alright for Women" protects 24/7 against perspiration!... my arse. Her arm, oddly, felt pleasantly cool in the bandages...which, she was pretty sure disobeyed some rules of science. The old man plodded along beside her - he smelt faintly sweet in the hot air. She felt nauseous...she could feel that cup of tea, all she'd had today apart from a biscuit, churning in her stomach. Her head continued to be foggy as he walked alongside the little man, who was wittering about something or other. The world was hanging in a haze, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve to clear them. Her body was burning up. Crippling pains shot from her arm. She cried in pain and halted.
Dr Farrell stopped his rather long winded talk about how he planned to surprise his wife today. The girl had halted, in apparent distress and pain. "Lass"...he patted her gently. She winced and grimaced in pain from her arm. The girl gritted her teeth, he hear them grind against each other. "Come on" he said sympathetically "not too far now." Strange, I wouldn't expect this from someone with this condition...the heat must be getting to her.
Evie's chest felt tight, she gasped for breaths in deep gulps. Her tights stuck uncomfortably to her thighs. Her shoes hurt her. Sweat ran down her delicate heart shaped face, hung and pooled momentarily on her jaw, before falling into her cleavage - showing slightly between the buttons on her blouse. Strands on hair were slicked to her face. Her body ached. Her heart hammered...chimed...beat...rung faster in her chest...
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