will.’
Mark clenched his jaw, but didn’t waste his breath responding as Mick shambled to his ute, still muttering threats.
Karl stepped beside Mark, phone in hand. ‘I recorded pretty much all that. Just in case he tries to make trouble.’
‘Thanks. Can you go inside and take care of Jenn? I want to make sure he actually leaves.’
‘I’ll follow him up to his place. You look after Jenn. Last time she saw me, other than last night, she was babysitting me and I put tadpoles into her glass of water. So, she might have more faith in your abilities.’
For Mark, the cheeky, perpetually scabby-kneed boy had long disappeared in the capable young man Karl had proved himself to be through thick and thin, but perhaps he was right – Jenn didn’t know that side of him yet.
The kitchen was empty, but the water pump was on and from outside the bathroom door, Mark heard a tap running, a sniff and then a few swear words. When the water stopped running, he tapped lightly on the door. ‘Mick’s gone, Jenn, and Karl’s following him to make sure he stays away.’
‘Good.’ He heard another sniff, a nose blow, the gurgle of the sink emptying.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’ll live.’ She pulled open the door. ‘Nothing broken except some skin.’
Nothing broken maybe – but puffy eyes, red marks on her face andjaw, scratches still seeping blood, and a damp facecloth wrapped around her forearm, which she held against herself, upright.
The sight of those injuries made him wish he
had
slammed Mick’s head into the wall. But his anger at Mick wouldn’t help her and he tamped down the violence simmering within him.
‘Come and sit down and let me check you over.’
‘I’m not …’ Her hesitation telegraphed her reluctance.
Have a man touch her after Mick’s assault? He understood her hesitancy. ‘Would you prefer me to see if Beth can come? Or Kris?’
‘I’m okay. Really. Although maybe this cut could do with some tape or something. And I think there might still be a bit of glass in here.’ She indicated a place just above her elbow. ‘But can we go outside? It just feels … not right, being in Jim’s house.’
With Karl’s first-aid kit, they went out to Mark’s ute in the backyard and she sat on the tailgate while he unwrapped a sterile dressing pack and laid out the contents. The dogs watched, noses pressed up against the fence.
‘What happened?’ Mark asked as he took the facecloth from her arm to examine the cut.
‘I was out here with the dogs,’ she said flatly. ‘I saw Mick through the window. I went around the front and saw he’d broken in. He was helping himself to the contents of the kitchen. Then he took Jim’s laptop. We had words. He told me I should be dead. Then he threw a bottle at my head.’
Every one of those staccato sentences raised a dozen questions, but the last worried him most. ‘At your head? Did it hit you?’
‘Not hard. Just bounced off the side of my skull and then hit the doorframe.That’s when it smashed.’
Not hard. Bounced.
Definitely worrying. He stepped back a small pace so he could see her eyes and her responses. ‘Does your head ache? Do you feel woozy or nauseous?’
She looked straight back at him, direct, focused, and well aware of his examination. ‘I’m suffering from caffeine deficiency, sleep deprivation and the remnants of jetlag, and I’m royally pissed off with the universe right now. But no, I’m not about to collapse from bleeding on the brain or concussion.’
He wanted to believe her. But the red marks, the bruising beginning on her jaw and face meant there’d been at least two blows to her head in addition to the bottle. He didn’t waste his breath suggesting the hospital, yet, although he’d make sure that someone kept an eye on her for the rest of the morning.
‘Do you want to formally report the assault to the police?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. Probably not. It was stupid of me to confront him. I should have
Mark clenched his jaw, but didn’t waste his breath responding as Mick shambled to his ute, still muttering threats.
Karl stepped beside Mark, phone in hand. ‘I recorded pretty much all that. Just in case he tries to make trouble.’
‘Thanks. Can you go inside and take care of Jenn? I want to make sure he actually leaves.’
‘I’ll follow him up to his place. You look after Jenn. Last time she saw me, other than last night, she was babysitting me and I put tadpoles into her glass of water. So, she might have more faith in your abilities.’
For Mark, the cheeky, perpetually scabby-kneed boy had long disappeared in the capable young man Karl had proved himself to be through thick and thin, but perhaps he was right – Jenn didn’t know that side of him yet.
The kitchen was empty, but the water pump was on and from outside the bathroom door, Mark heard a tap running, a sniff and then a few swear words. When the water stopped running, he tapped lightly on the door. ‘Mick’s gone, Jenn, and Karl’s following him to make sure he stays away.’
‘Good.’ He heard another sniff, a nose blow, the gurgle of the sink emptying.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’ll live.’ She pulled open the door. ‘Nothing broken except some skin.’
Nothing broken maybe – but puffy eyes, red marks on her face andjaw, scratches still seeping blood, and a damp facecloth wrapped around her forearm, which she held against herself, upright.
The sight of those injuries made him wish he
had
slammed Mick’s head into the wall. But his anger at Mick wouldn’t help her and he tamped down the violence simmering within him.
‘Come and sit down and let me check you over.’
‘I’m not …’ Her hesitation telegraphed her reluctance.
Have a man touch her after Mick’s assault? He understood her hesitancy. ‘Would you prefer me to see if Beth can come? Or Kris?’
‘I’m okay. Really. Although maybe this cut could do with some tape or something. And I think there might still be a bit of glass in here.’ She indicated a place just above her elbow. ‘But can we go outside? It just feels … not right, being in Jim’s house.’
With Karl’s first-aid kit, they went out to Mark’s ute in the backyard and she sat on the tailgate while he unwrapped a sterile dressing pack and laid out the contents. The dogs watched, noses pressed up against the fence.
‘What happened?’ Mark asked as he took the facecloth from her arm to examine the cut.
‘I was out here with the dogs,’ she said flatly. ‘I saw Mick through the window. I went around the front and saw he’d broken in. He was helping himself to the contents of the kitchen. Then he took Jim’s laptop. We had words. He told me I should be dead. Then he threw a bottle at my head.’
Every one of those staccato sentences raised a dozen questions, but the last worried him most. ‘At your head? Did it hit you?’
‘Not hard. Just bounced off the side of my skull and then hit the doorframe.That’s when it smashed.’
Not hard. Bounced.
Definitely worrying. He stepped back a small pace so he could see her eyes and her responses. ‘Does your head ache? Do you feel woozy or nauseous?’
She looked straight back at him, direct, focused, and well aware of his examination. ‘I’m suffering from caffeine deficiency, sleep deprivation and the remnants of jetlag, and I’m royally pissed off with the universe right now. But no, I’m not about to collapse from bleeding on the brain or concussion.’
He wanted to believe her. But the red marks, the bruising beginning on her jaw and face meant there’d been at least two blows to her head in addition to the bottle. He didn’t waste his breath suggesting the hospital, yet, although he’d make sure that someone kept an eye on her for the rest of the morning.
‘Do you want to formally report the assault to the police?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. Probably not. It was stupid of me to confront him. I should have
Similar Books
