Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,26
got my eyes closed.”
He removed his coat, decided not to ask her to place it over her head as she had done to him, and hung it on a peg on the wall. Then he took his shirt and jeans off and self-consciously folded his boxer shorts inside them. There was nowhere to put them.
“Would you hold my clothes?”
She nodded and held out her arms.
He flipped the lever that started the water. It was lukewarm. The soap was in a push button dispenser and he quickly covered himself in lather. He shivered. “Takes a while to warm up, doesn’t it.”
“You only get one shower for your euros.”
“Oh, thanks. Vital tip that.”
“You were the one that jumped in.”
He tried to keep his back to her. “This is getting bloody cold.”
“Hey, you have a scar.”
“I thought you had your eyes closed!”
“I can’t stand here all this time with my eyes closed. It’s not normal. How did you get your scar?”
“Fell out of a tree and tore up my shoulder when I was young.”
“No, not the one on your shoulder. The one on your bu—”
He crunched up, covering himself. “Do you mind?”
“I was only trying to make conversation.”
The water was freezing now. The overhead fan was still blasting away. He could feel his skin prickling with the cold. He swept a blob of shampoo through his hair and rinsed it away immediately, thrashing his hands to clear the soap off his body. He snapped the tap to off and ran his hands over his body to wipe off the water. “God, I’m cold.”
“Turn on the dryer,” she said.
He pressed the button and nothing. He pressed again. Then he thumped and banged it. Nothing happened. He was shivering uncontrollably. “Oh, god. One shower, one run of the dryer.” He ran his hands over his body, trying to ward off the cold and flicking more water onto the sopping wet floor.
She leaned over to the sink and pulled a handful of paper towels from a dispenser. “Here.”
“Are you closing your eyes at all?”
“Will you stop being a wimp?”
She juggled the towels in her hand and backward-passed them to him. At the same moment his clothes fell out of her other hand.
He dived to grab them from the wet floor. She did the same. Their heads cracked, his eye socket against the back of her skull. A storm of twinkling lights erupted in his vision and darkness threatened to overcome him. He slid down and sat on the floor. “Oh, god, why’d you do that?”
She picked up his clothes from the wet floor. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
He grunted and held his head in his hands.
“Wow. You’ve got abs,” she said.
He sighed. “Everyone’s got abs.”
“Yeah, but not ones you can see.”
He drew his knees up to his chest. “That’s because I’ve got no clothes on.”
“I meant—”
There was an insistent knocking at the door followed by Little’s high-pitched squeak. “You two are wasting time.”
Piers rolled his head forward. “Oh, shit.” The twinkling lights swam around in circles.
“Go away,” said Sidney, “we’re busy.”
“So I can hear. You two lovebirds might be having fun, but you’re wasting time. Get out here.”
“Oh, god. Give me my clothes,” said Piers. He heard a burst of schoolgirl sniggers from outside.
Sidney turned away and held out his clothes. He wiped himself down with the paper towels and wrestled on his clothes. They were wet, he was wet, and they refused to fit, but eventually he was clothed.
He looked in the mirror and flattened his hair. There was swelling around his eyebrow, he could feel and see it.
“What are you going to tell them?” said Sidney.
“Why me?”
“Oh come on, you’re the best at talking to them. You know you are.”
He looked at her and sighed.
She gave a bright smile and waved a scrap of paper. “I’ve got his address,” she whispered.
Piers read it. “You know where this is?”
She nodded as she straightened his jacket. He stuffed the paper in his pocket and pressed the lever that opened the door.
Little and Large were stood outside. The small guy had a smug grin and he sniggered at the sight of them. “Finished, are we?”
“At least they’ve had a shower.” Large said, nudging Little.
Little screwed up his face. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you know, they’re clean.”
“You trying to say I’m not clean? I’m clean. I had a shower this morning.”
“Yeah, this morning, but not every morning.”
“Well, that’s just not … oh, never mind.” The small guy scowled and turned back to Piers. “The boss