only.”
Tay groaned. “What is it?” He was still trying to figure the shape out.
“It’s a bat. I’m mortally offended you can’t tell.”
Tay held it in different positions, but it in no way resembled a bat.
“Maybe a cat?” Ink said. “I might have misread it.”
“You made two the same so that’s impressive.”
“I’m no longer mortally offended.”
Tay didn’t want to like the meal, but he did. Even the salad tasted better than when he made it, which had to be down to the dressing. But when his headache suddenly flared, he stopped eating. He’d put up with not walking straight if the headaches would disappear.
“While you were asleep, I googled exercises to improve gait. Standing leg raises, half squat with a chair, quadriceps stretch, balancing on one foot and so on. Are they the sort of things the physio was doing?”
“Yes.” Tay took another sip of wine. Maybe alcohol would help his head. On what planet?
“What about swimming? Want to go tomorrow after the bed’s been delivered? Your mum thinks it’s a brilliant idea.”
Tay glared.
“She said His Speedos are in the top drawer. Don’t forget his water wings and rubber duck. Get the cane out if he says no.”
“Ha ha.”
“Don’t… Don’t you like the food? You’ve stopped eating.”
“It tastes good, but I have a headache.”
“I might be able to help with that, though it would mean me touching you.”
“Right.” Tay tensed.
“Why don’t you like to be touched? You didn’t even want your mum and dad to hug you.”
“While I was in hospital and after I went home, I had people touching me all the time. Nurses, physios, doctors, carers, my parents. Most of them told me what they were going to do, but not all. For a long time, I couldn’t tell them what I wanted or didn’t want or if they were hurting me. I had a feeding tube in my stomach. A catheter in my cock. I had to wear a…nappy.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. Oh fuck, forget I said shit.”
Tay rolled his eyes. “They were always washing me or turning me so I didn’t get bed sores. Sitting me up, lying me down, putting me in a wheelchair, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Sometimes I wanted to say ‘take me outside today’, or ‘leave me the fuck alone’, but I couldn’t. I lay there, scared, anxious and vulnerable, sometimes flailing or moaning, occasionally squeezing fingers, but I had no way of making myself understood. They put a pencil in my hand and put it to a pad of paper, and I thought I was writing, but I wasn’t.”
Ink stared at him unblinking.
“So now, even the thought of being touched can sometimes make me have a panic attack. I know it’s stupid. I have a voice now. I’m not helpless. I can tell people to stop, but I still overreact.”
“Like post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Maybe, but it isn’t as if the fear’s come from some traumatic experience like being assaulted or raped. It’s stupid. I mean, I can’t even fucking shake hands without my heart beating out of my chest.”
“Someone tried to kill you and you were left unable to do anything for yourself for a long time and without a voice to object when things were done that you didn’t like. That sounds fucking traumatic to me. Have you spoken to anyone about it?”
“No. I don’t want anything else to be the matter with me.”
Ink puffed out a laugh. “Just wanting there to be nothing wrong doesn’t make it so. Not all touch is bad.”
Tay’s cheek twitched. “I know. I’m not stupid.”
“I mean, you wank, right? You can touch yourself. And I had to touch you today to stop you getting pulled into the water. You didn’t have a panic attack then.”
“I think I was more panicked about getting yanked in and drowning.”
“Sex,” Ink said.
Tay’s heart stuttered.
“If you associate touch with something pleasant, maybe that will be enough to cure you.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Who am I supposed to have sex with?” His heart was still battering his ribs. Was Ink offering? Am I interested?
“How long since you’ve had sex?” Ink winced. “Sorry. That’s too personal.”
Was Ink blushing?
“What about Grindr?” Ink asked.
“You’re still assuming I’m gay.”
“Well, is there a straight version? Not Tinder. Something more like Grindr. Is that possible? Grindr is aimed at gay guys who just want to hook up and fuck their brains out or something similar. Straight men probably want the same, except to do it with women, but not as many straight women would want to fuck