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‘Won’t take a minute.’ He held out his hand, trying not to wince as pain shot through his shoulders and Cass nodded, producing her phone from her pocket.
‘Thank you. Tell her that we’re going back down to fetch the medical supplies. I think I know how we can get them across.’
It didn’t come as any particular surprise that she had a plan. Jack imagined that Cass was the kind of person who always had a plan. She was tall and strong, and moved with the controlled grace of someone who knew how to focus on the task in hand. Now that she’d pulled her hood back her thick red hair, cut in a layered style that was both practical and feminine, made her seem even more gorgeously formidable.
His text to Mimi was answered immediately and confirmed that it was Rafe that he’d seen. Jack texted again, asking Mimi to pack whatever spare medical supplies they had into a bag.
‘Here.’ He passed the phone back to Cass. ‘She’s waiting for your call.’
‘Thanks.’ She slipped the phone into her pocket. ‘Now you get warm.’
She led the way through to a large kitchen, bustling with activity, which suddenly quieted as they tramped through in their muddy boots and wet clothes. Beyond that, a corridor led to a bathroom, with a sign saying ‘Women Only’ hung on the door. Cass popped her head inside and then flipped the sign over, to display the words ‘Men Only’.
It looked as if he had the place to himself. There was a long row of handbasins, neat and shining, with toilet cubicles lined up opposite and bath and shower cubicles at the far end. The place smelled of bleach and air freshener.
‘Put your clothes there.’ She indicated a well-scrubbed plastic chair next to the handbasins. ‘I’ll send someone to collect them and leave some fresh towels and we’ll find some dry clothes. What size are you...?’
The question was accompanied by a quick up and down glance that made Jack shiver, and a slight flush spread over Cass’s cheeks. ‘Large will have to do, I think.’ She made the words sound like a compliment.
‘Thanks. That would be great.’
‘Do you need any help?’ She looked at him steadily. ‘I’m relying on you, as a medical professional, to tell me if there’s anything the matter with you.’
If he’d thought for one moment that Cass would stay and help him off with his clothes, instead of sending someone else in to do it, Jack might just have said yes. ‘No. I’ll be fine.’
‘Good.’ She turned quickly, but Jack caught sight of a half-smile on her lips. Maybe she would have stayed. Working in an environment that was still predominantly male, Jack doubted that she was much fazed by the sight of a man’s body.
He waited for the door to close behind her before he painfully took off his jacket and sweater. Unbuttoning his shirt, he stood in front of the mirror to inspect some of the damage. It was impossible to tell what was what at the moment. A little blood, mixed with a great deal of mud from the dirty water. He’d shower first and then worry about any bumps and scratches.
A knock at the door and a woman’s voice, asking if she could come in, disturbed the best shower Jack could remember taking in a long time. Hurried footsteps outside the cubicle and then he was alone again, luxuriating in the hot water.
After soaping his body twice, he felt almost clean again. Opening the cubicle door a crack, he peered out and found the bathroom empty; two fluffy towels hung over one of the handbasins. One was large enough to wind around his waist and he rubbed the other one over his head to dry his hair.
He looked a mess. He could feel a bump forming on the side of his head and, although his jacket had largely protected the rest of him, he had friction burns on his arms, which stung like crazy, and a graze on his chest from where the zip on his jacket had been driven against the skin.
‘Coming in...’ A rap on the door and a man’s voice. A slim, sandy-haired man of about forty entered, carrying a pile of clothes and a pair of canvas shoes. ‘Hi, Jack. I’m Martin.’
He was wearing a light windcheater, white letters on a dark blue background on the right hand side, in the same place that Jack’s paramedic insignia appeared on his uniform. When he turned, the word was repeated in larger letters across his back.
‘You’re the vicar, then.’ Jack grinned.
‘Yeah. My wife seems to think this is a good idea, just in case anyone mistakes me for someone useful.’
‘I’d always be glad to see you coming.’ Hope and comfort were often just as important as medical treatment.
‘Likewise. We’re grateful for all you did to get here.’ Martin propped the clothes on the ledge behind the washbasins. ‘They look nasty.’ His gaze was on the friction burns on Jack’s arms.
‘Superficial. They’ll be okay.’ Jack riffled through the clothes. A T-shirt, a grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that looked about his size. He picked the T-shirt up and pulled it over his head so that he didn’t have to think about the marks on his arms and chest any more. ‘How’s my patient?’
‘Lynette’s fine. She’s over at the vicarage, drinking tea with my wife and complaining about all the fuss. She seems to have got it into her head that she’s got some say about when the baby arrives.’
‘You were right to call. At the very least she needs to be checked over.’
Martin nodded. ‘Thanks. Cass has gone to get your medical supplies. Goodness only knows how she’s going to manage it, but knowing Cass...’
Even the mention of her name made Jack’s heart beat a little faster. ‘She seems very resourceful.’
Martin nodded. ‘Yeah. Bit too resourceful sometimes. Now, important question. Tea or coffee? I don’t think I can keep the Monday Club under control for much longer.’
