“Ah ,” he muttered. “Don’t want to wet the bed.” He took out a spear blanket and rolled her over, put the blanket on the bed and rolled her back on to it.
She moaned and continued to roll. He caught her as she headed for the edge of the bed. And gently pushed her back into the middle. The feel of her bare skin under his hands was like nothing he had ever felt before. He had this strange foreboding that when it was wet it would be even nicer.
As he washed her he was in a haze of ecstasy and agony. The pleasure of the sight, touch and smell of her perfect body. The pain of holding back his desires for her.
He was realy haveing trouble controlling his hormones. “She’s all that stands between you and oblivion man ! Pull yourself together, she’s your main product line,” he shouted to himself. “You don’t soil the merchandise.”
But even as he dried her he couldn’t help thinking. “God you look like a drowned rat and are lying there almost dying of pneumonia and you still look like the most beautiful girl on the planet.”
As he pulled the damp blanket from under her he ran his hands across her naked flesh. It was burning up. He put his hands to her face. “You’re on fire,” he said. And thought, “Just my luck to pick up a stray and have it die on me.”
He rolled her into a dry blanket, went to the bare wooden table in the centre of the room and poured himself a glass full of vodka from the open bottle there. Taking a large swig he turned and looked at the girl in his bed.
“I suppose I’d better get a doctor for you,” he sat down on the single, plastic chair. The only doctors he could trust to come and not ask any questions of where the type you goto if you got jumped by a gang, or did the jumping, and got stabbed or badly beaten, but didn’t want the hassle that would descend on you if you went to a legitimate doctor or hospital.
The doctor he normaly called was away. He recomended another doctor. David hadn’t planning to call him, fearing another person knowing what he did, but now it looked like he would have no choice.
He had no phone in his place so he would have to leave the girl alone while he went to a public phone at the corner of his road. She didn’t look as if she would be going anywhere very soon, so he decided to risk it.
It was raining again and he was glad of the shelter of the phone booth. He slipped his card through the reader, dialled the number and explained to the doctor that he had a sick girl he wanted examined .
“I only do cash calls at this time of night,” the doctor said.
“That’s O.K., I have the cash.”
“I be around as soon as I can,” the doctor hung up.
David hurried back to his flat and dried himself. As he waited for the doctor to come he opened another bottle of vodka and poured himself a drink.
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