Blue Comes Through

Chapter Nine

           

I pull off my pink pyjamas and pull on clean underwear, before heading to the bathroom to sort my face and hair. My hair is still damp so I twist into a loose knot and then pin it up in a messy up do. It is messy, but then I don't want to look as though I've made too much of an effort.

I smooth on moisturiser and then foundation to disguise the cuts and bruises. They are all much improved, particularly my eye, which is barely noticeable once I've applied a bit of concealer and then finished off with some powder.

I want to appear as though I sit around in the evenings, looking effortlessly flawless, so I forgo eye makeup except for a flick of mascara and then rummage in my make up bag for a matt bronzy pink lipstick. It covers the cut without adding any gloss. I stand back satisfied. I look a bit flushed, but that's no bad thing, as I'm too pale at the moment. I tweak a few strands of hair across my forehead to hide that cut and debate cutting a fringe. I quickly dismiss the idea. It could go horribly wrong and I end up with the basin type effect, favoured by my mother when I was nine.

I drag on black leggings and decide to stay barefoot and pull on a long soft green top with scoop neck and three quarter sleeves. It's loose enough to cover my stomach and long enough to cover my bum. I have been informed that both of these are really not up to scratch since I had Will.

With one last look in the mirror, I decide I'll have to do, as I hear the heavy thud of the door knocker. I glance at Will. He's still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by my frantic preparations or the knock on the door.

Finn is standing at the top of the steps, smiling and holding a bottle of wine and a white plastic bag full of foil containers. Wilf trots straight past me, heading straight for the rug in front of the wood burner.

Finn grins. "He doesn't respect social conventions I'm afraid."

I smile and stand back so he can come in. He's dressed in black jeans and a grey jumper with a white T-shirt. His hair is tousled and his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. His hair looks a little different, but then I realise he's pushed it slightly to the side. I catch a waft of something citrusy as he passes. I'm already associating that scent with him. There is also something delicious smelling coming from the bag.

"I hope you're hungry. I've brought loads." He walks to the kitchen table and starts unpacking the carrier bag. The cottage has shrunk to half the size again and I stand a little dazed, until he looks over expectantly and I jolt myself into movement and find place mats and plates and cutlery.

"It smells really good." I say as he removes cardboard lids. "Where did you get it?"

"There's a place by the beach, just below the Gallery. It's half fish and chips and half Asian. I thought about fish and chips, but we really need to eat them outside with our fingers. We'll do that again."

He reaches up to grab a couple of glasses from the shelf above the hob, with all the same familiarity as he made tea before. I hear the pop of the cork, as I place spoons in the foil containers.

He passes me a glass and smiles again as his blue eyes run over my face.

"You're looking better." He says and I duck my head, embarrassed and take a sip of the wine to hide my face. I hear him sigh and then the scrape of wood on tile, as he pulls out a chair. It's a bit like the screech of chalk on a chalk board to my nerves and I gulp another mouthful of wine before sitting down opposite him.

"Come on then, tuck in." He starts piling his plate. He really did bring a lot of food.

He points out the dishes. "Beef rendeng which is hot and spicy, Nasi goreng, which is basically stir fry chicken and rice. I get dibs on the fried egg." He winks. "Lamb Karahi
, poppadoms and pilau rice."