Let's go round again?
Chapter Six
It had taken him a while to get undressed, every movement seemed to send pain shooting through his body, making any coordinated movement difficult. But at last he was sitting on the edge of the bed in his dressing gown breathless, gasping and feeling every one of his years. Slipping his hand under his pillow he pulled out the photograph and placed it carefully back in it's hiding place, concealing the small key under his bedside light after he'd locked the draw.
His breathing had returned to near normal when Ruth came back and he'd couldn't help but give a small chuckle when he saw what she was carrying. His smile broadened as she dumped her burden on the bed beside him. "What are you going to do with those?" he asked her. "If you want me to engage in some sort of bondage game that involves plastic carrier bags and parcel tape I'm game but I'm afraid you'll have to do most of the work." He knew he was on fragile ground teasing her in this way but he just couldn't help himself it had been so long since he'd had the chance to make her smile and he had been rewarded by the happy smirk that was now dancing across her face.
"You should be so lucky Harry Pearce" she teased him back as she produced a pair of scissors from her pocket. "Can you manage to get your arm out of the sleeve so I can wrap these plastic bags around it so the dressing doesn't get too wet?" He struggled his arm out as she'd requested and then nearly passed out as she came and stood between his legs as she wound the bags around his arm securing them with strips of the tape. The last time they'd been this close he'd pushed her into his office wall, crushing her mouth with his, grinding his arousal into her belly, a time he was ashamed to admit even to himself that had been the source of many fantasies and much longing over the years.
"Are you okay Harry?" she asked concerned that his breathing had become shallow and he appeared to be sweating more than he had been.
"No, no I'm fine Ruth, just a little tired, I don't know what's wrong with me today. I'll just go and get this shower shall I?"
"Watching him as he made his way slowly across the room she called to him "Don't lock the bathroom door Harry, and don't be too proud to call me if you need any help."
"I think I can manage Ruth" he said as he slowly opened the door and disappeared inside the room.
Ruth set about tidying up, she picked up what he had been wearing and noticed that he'd bled onto his bottoms and pulling back the duvet she could see that there were specks of blood on the bottom sheet. She'd have to ask Harry where he kept his linen. And all the time she was doing these mundane tasks she was telling herself
Calm down! Don't think about it! She didn't know why she'd thought it was a good idea to stand so close to him. So close that she could feel the heat of his body. Couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the scent of him, the power of him. She hoped that her hands had not trembled too much as she'd wrapped his arm. Bloody man! She thought as she looked around the room for something else to do.
And then it struck her that he should have been finished by now so she went and tapped on the bathroom door calling through it "Are you okay in there Harry? Do you need me to come in and help you?" There was a muffled answer and then silence. "I'm coming in Harry" she warned him and she pushed open the door to be confronted by the sight of a naked Harry Pearce, his back to her leaning heavily against the wall of the shower, the water cascading over him. She was pleased that the shower was running so that he didn't hear her sharp intake of breath followed by the strangled moan that escaped her lips.
From his broad shoulders down to his buttocks was a mass of scars and what looked like red angry burn marks. As her eyes skimmed quickly over his body she thought that it was very likely that Harry's whole career was etched into his flesh. All of the wounds were long healed; some of them had faded into the flesh as though they had been there so long they were part of him. She could have cried for him and for a moment she was consumed with such anger towards the people who had inflicted such terrible damage she had to hang onto the door frame to steady herself. His back was a tapestry that told horrific stories of his suffering more than any words could ever hope to.. Allowing her gaze to fall downwards to his sturdy thighs and legs she could see that not even they had been spared abuse. But on his legs dotted amongst old, faded, healed scars were new abrasions that would need tending.
For a long moment she just stood looking at him, trying to come to terms with what she saw. Of course she'd heard the tales about Harry and what he'd gone through, about the times he'd been captured and tortured over the years and she thought she knew what that would mean but being confronted with it like this was something else.
Pulling herself together she knocked loudly on the open door and raised her voice so she could be heard above the cascading water.
He jumped, literally jumped before he half turned towards her his eyes wide, the fear in them quickly displaced by shame and consternation, his hands automatically moving to cover his genitals. "Ruth! What in God's name are you doing?" he rasped at her as he turned away from her once more.
"Are you okay in there?" she asked him "If you stay in much longer you'll start to look like a prune. You know all wrinkly."
"I can't move" he said "I can't get my bloody legs to move. I'm stuck in here." There was such an air of defeat in that statement that she wanted to cry for him but crying would no neither of them any good.
"Can you turn off the shower Harry?"
He reached up and did as he was asked and she moved towards him with a large bath sheet, ready to wrap it around him. "What do you think you're doing" he asked in alarm. "You can't get in here with me, I'm naked woman!"
"I've seen a naked man before Harry" her words had been just that; words tossed into the air, they had no hidden meaning, they were not said to wound or hurt but as he heard them he felt as though she'd punched him in the stomach and he sagged against the tiles of the shower as visions of his Ruth with other men crowded his mind making it hard for him to concentrate. Had she cared for these men, this man? Of course she had. Ruth was not the kind of woman to go into a relationship with just her body. No. she would need to have her mind and her heart engaged in equal measure. Ruth was not shallow and then he thought about what he'd classed in his mind as "The Cyprus Incident" and he sagged even more as he began to believe that the situation was hopeless, that he'd lost before he'd even really started to fight.
"Harry!" here voice was full of concern and he felt her step into the shower behind him and gently and carefully wrap the bath sheet around his middle securing it firmly in place. "Harry, I want you to lean on me and just concentrate on moving your legs one at a time until we get you back to the bed. Can you do that? Good."
When they finally reached the bed they were both out of breath and physically exhausted. Ruth had not realised just how heavy Harry was and Harry had been so conflicted, so aware of her body close to his, of the fact that he was very nearly naked and the fact that he seemed to be sinking lower and lower onto her with every step that he'd taken that he was in a state of near collapse.
As she helped him to lay on the bed she whispered "I'm sorry Harry, I should have thought this out better, I should have realised that you weren't up to taking a shower on your own. I should have got us some help. It was stupid of me." And with those words she collapsed onto the bed next to him.
He knew that he had to say something, something that would make her stay with him because he feared that he'd heard in those words her telling him that she was going to leave and pass his care onto someone else.
Reaching out he took hold of her hand and said quietly "Don't be silly Ruth. It's my fault for being so damn stubborn and macho. I knew that I was going to have trouble but I chose to ignore that knowledge. I wanted to prove, well God alone knows what I wanted to prove. But anyway it doesn't matter does if because I fell flat on my face anyway. Figuratively speaking that is." And he turned his head to smile at her.
"Promise me you'll be honest from now on. Promise that if you don't think you're up to something you'll tell me and then we can find a way round it. Promise me Harry."
"I promise Ruth and I think that for the next few days we should go with the good old fashioned strip wash. If it was good enough for me when I was a boy it's good enough for me now."
They lay together side by side on the bed both of them concentrating on the ceiling both of them enjoying this unexpected closeness, neither of them wanting to break the spell. That was until Harry shivered and Ruth sat up quickly "You must be catching your death of cold there" she told him as she got off the bed "Do you want anything before I find your dressing gown and we get that damp towel off you?
"Well" he said, a smile playing across his lips "I wouldn't mind if you removed these bloody plastic bags. I think I've decided that this particular fetish is not for me. Thank you very much."
"Let me find the scissors and the other bits and pieces I need" she said over her shoulder as she went into the bathroom "But Sir Harry we must talk sometime about what particular fetish is for you."