34
Con stared at the top of Daisy’s head. She had a double crown, her fine blonde hair spiralling out of two separate whorls, like horns. A spray of hair had fallen from her hairline across her cheek. He’d been resisting the temptation to move it for the past ten minutes, concerned that he might awaken her. She started to stir and Con quickly rearranged himself, to look a little less like he’d been staring at her while she slept.
She looked around the room as her eyes opened. Con could see her checking out her surroundings, reminding herself where she was.
‘Morning,’ he said.
She turned and smiled. ‘Morning.’ She pushed herself up onto her elbow and looked at him. ‘God, you’re handsome in the mornings,’ she said.
He blushed. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You look pretty good yourself.’
‘I doubt it,’ she said, pulling her hair away from her face. ‘Mornings are not my best time of day. What time is it, anyway?’
He glanced at his radio alarm. ‘Nine-fifteen.’
‘Oh, God, really?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Oh, shit. I’d better get going.’
‘Yeah. Chest stuff.’ She tapped her collarbone and began to cough. ‘Sorry,’ she said, turning away from him. ‘Mornings are worst. Mimi usually gets to work on me first thing. In fact, I’d better call her, let her know I’m on my way back.’ She pulled her handbag towards her, her thin back arching away from him as she lent across the floor, knuckles of bone protruding through her milky skin, a triangle of white down covering the base of her spine. She coughed again as she pulled her mobile from her bag. Her breathing was becoming laboured and heavy.
She spoke to her sister. Con could hear the concern in Mimi’s voice from the other end of the line. It was clear that Daisy didn’t do this sort of thing very often. ‘It’s not that late!’ protested Daisy. ‘Yes. I’m leaving now. I don’t know. The Tube. OK, then, a cab. No, he hasn’t got a car. I don’t know, OK. Look, Meems, I’m really sorry, OK. I didn’t realize you were going out today. I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’ll call you when I’m in a cab.’ She switched off her phone and smiled apologetically. ‘Not impressed,’ she said.
‘I could tell.’
‘I don’t blame her. It’s a real bind for her, you know, having to do my physio every morning. It’s not fun and it means she can’t go away without arranging a nurse for me or do anything, you know, spontaneous. She always has to think about me.’
‘The physio,’ he said, ‘what your sister does for you? Is it difficult? I mean, could someone else do it for you?’
She shrugged. ‘I suppose so. It’s just lots of hitting me on the back, hitting me on the chest, moving me round in different positions.’
‘For how long?’
‘As long as it takes to loosen me up.’
‘Could I do it for you?’
Daisy turned and gazed at him.
‘That way you wouldn’t have to rush off. That way you could stay. If you wanted.’ He gulped.
She smiled and brought the crown of his head to her lips. She kissed his head deeply. Con could hear the machinations of her broken lungs through her ribcage. ‘You are so lovely, Connor McNulty. You are so good. I knew you were, the first time I saw you. But it’s not that simple. You’d have to be trained. Mimi would have to show you what to do. And besides,’ she said, ‘it’sa bit like going to the loo with the door open, isn’t it? Not very romantic.’
Con smiled and kissed her on the mouth. And then he picked up his own mobile phone and switched it on.
‘I’ll call you a cab,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ said Daisy. ‘Thank you.’