“I want to puke,” he said.
“Shall I stop for a moment?” Burrows asked.
“No. Just get it over and done with.”
“Right. Well then I’m going to start cleaning you up,” Burrows said. “Then we’ll see how you’re healing. I must say, it’s looking very good so far.”
“I want Maxine to take a look.”
“In a minute,” Burrows said. “Just let me — ”
“Now,” Todd said, nausea fueling his impatience. He raised his hand blindly and pushed at Burrows. The man moved aside. “Maxine?” Todd said.
“I’m here.”
Todd beckoned in the direction of Maxine’s voice. “Come and look at me, will you? I want you to tell me what I look like.”
He heard Maxine’s heels on the polished wood floor.
“Hurry.” Her step quickened. Now she was close by him. “Well?” he said.
“To be honest, it’s hard to tell till he — ”
“Christ! I knew it! I fucking knew it! He fucked me up!”
“Wait, wait,” Maxine said. “Calm down. A lot of it’s just the ointments he put on you. Let him clean it off before we get hysterical.” Todd reached out to her. She caught hold of his hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she said, though her grip was clammy. “Just be patient. Why can’t men be patient?”
“You’re not patient,” he reminded her.
“Just let him work, Todd.”
“But you’re not. Admit it.”
“All right. I’m not patient.”
Burrows set to work again, meticulously swabbing around Todd’s eyes, cleaning his gummed lashes. The stink of cleaning fluid was sharp in his nostrils, his sinuses ran, and his eyes, when he finally opened them, were awash.
“Welcome back,” Maxine said, unknitting her fingers from his, as though a little embarrassed by the intimacy. It took a couple of minutes for Todd’s sight to clear, and another two for his eyes to become accustomed to the dimmed light in the room. But part by part, face by face, the world came back to him. The large, half-blinded window, and the rain-lashed deck beyond it. The expensive ease of the room; the Indian rug, the leather furniture, the Calder mobile, in yellow, red and black, which hung below the sky-light. Burrows’ knitted brow, and fixed, nervous smile. The nurse, a pretty blonde woman. And finally Maxine, her face ashen. Burrows moved away, like a portrait painter stepping back from a canvas to check the effect he’d achieved.
“I want to see,” Todd said to him.
“Give yourself a minute,” Maxine said. “Are you still feeling sick?”
“Why? Is it going to make me heave?”
“No,” she said. He almost believed her. “You just look a little puffy, that’s all. And a little raw. It’s not so bad.”
“You used to be such a good liar.”
“Really,” she insisted. “It’s not so bad.”
“So let me look.” Everyone in the room remained still. “Will somebody get me a mirror? Okay — ” He started to push himself up out of the chair. “I’ll get one myself.”
“Stay where you are,” Maxine said. “If you really want to see. Nurse? What’s your name?”
“Karyn.”
“Go up into the bedroom, and you’ll find a little hand mirror there on the vanity. Bring it down.”
It seemed to Todd the girl took an eternity to fetch the mirror. While they waited, Burrows stared out at the rain. Maxine went to refresh her stinger.
Finally, the girl returned. Her eyes were on Burrows, not on Todd.
“Tell her to give it to me,” Todd said.
“Go on,” Burrows said.
The nurse put the mirror into Todd’s hand. He took a deep breath, and looked at himself.
There was a moment, as his eyes fixed on his reflection, when reality fluttered, and he thought: none of this is real. Not the room, nor the people in it, nor the rain outside, nor the face in the mirror. Especially not the face in the mirror. It was a figment, fluttering and fluttering and —
“Jesus … ” he said, like Duncan McFarlane, “look at me — ”
The strength in his hand failed him, and the mirror dropped to the ground. It fell face down. The nurse stooped to pick it up, but he said: “No. Leave it.”