he couldn’t help but stare at the cut in my arm.
“Well don’t just stand there,” I said. “Give me a hand.”
Then shaking his head, as if coming out of a trance, Luke said, “I’m sorry. Sure.” Then pulling his sweatshirt from over his head, he wrapped it tightly around my arm. I noticed how careful he was not to get any of my blood on him.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked him, as he knotted the sleeves of his sweatshirt around my arm like a makeshift bandage.
“I could ask the same of you,” he said, eyeing me.
“I was taking a run,” I told him. “That was until I started to be followed.”
“Followed?” he asked, sounding alarmed. “By who?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He had his face covered. But he left me a crucifix outside my room last night.”
“A crucifix?” Luke asked. “Why?”
“I don’t know that either.” I told him.
“Where is he now?”
“Cycled off down there after knocking me to the ground,” I said, pointing in the direction of the rugged path. “Where did you come from?”
“That way,” Luke said, nodding in the direction that I had been pointing.
“You must have passed him then,” I told him. “He was on a bike.”
Shaking his head, Luke said, “No one passed me on a bike.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling confused.
“Sure,” he said. “Now let’s get you back to the Inn, before you bleed to death.”
“You never said what you were doing way out here,” I reminded him.
“Oh,” Luke smiled, “I often drive out here, park up and take in some of the sea views.”
“Where’s your car?’”
“Over there, on a piece of flat,” he said, pointing beyond the rocks. ”There’s a narrow road, but you can get a car up here if you’re careful.” Then wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he led me back down the path.
Chapter Six
Back at the Inn, I invited Luke up to my room. Closing the door behind us, Luke sat on the chair by the desk and I went to the bathroom. Removing the makeshift bandage from my wrist, I pulled off my sweatshirt and ran my arm under the cold tap. The icy water made the cut sting and I winced in pain.
Luke appeared in the doorway and asked, “Is everything alright?” Seeing that I was standing there in my bra, the colour suddenly returned to his cheeks. Although he looked embarrassed walking in on me like that, he didn’t immediately turn away, but lingered in the doorway and looked at me. I didn’t move either and for the longest seconds of my life we just stood and looked at each other. Then slowly, I covered my chest with my good arm and said, “You couldn’t get me a fresh top from the wardrobe, could you?”
There was another pause as if it took a moment for my request to register with Luke. Then looking away and almost colliding with the doorframe, he said, “Sure. Give me a minute.”
Placing my wrist back under the running water, I cleaned the cut with a piece of tissue paper. To my relief, I could see that it wasn’t deep and thankfully wouldn’t need stitches.
“Here you go,” I heard Luke say, and I looked up to see his arm poking around the doorframe with a T-shirt hanging from his fist. This time around, he hadn’t barged straight in on me. Smiling to myself, I turned off the running water, patted the cut dry with the tissue, then snatched the T-shirt from him.
Pulling it over my head, I went back into the bedroom to find him sitting back in the chair by the desk.
“Are you okay?” he asked me.
“I’ll live,” I told him.
“I’m glad,” he said, and flashed me one of his smiles.
Taking some plasters that I had buried at the bottom of my make-up bag, I covered the cut. When I had finished, Luke asked, “Had you seen the guy on the bike before?”
“Last night, in the bar downstairs,” I told him.
“Then again leaving the crucifix outside your room?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t see him do that,” I said.
“Then how did you know it was him who left it?”
Pointing to the envelope on the desk, I said to Luke, “That was the envelope that he left. Look at it. What can you see?”
Picking up the envelope, Luke turned it over in his hands. After several moments, he looked at me and said, “It’s got your name on the front.”
“But what else can you see?” I pushed him.
With a blank