Читать книгу Sons of Angels - Rachel Green - Страница 14

Chapter 7

Felicia opened her eyes to a close-up of Harold’s nostril hair, which was better than any smelling salts. “What happened?” She blinked several times. Her vision was more blurred than usual and her head pounded with the onset of a migraine.

“You said you could see a goblin and passed out.” Harold handed over her glasses. “I took them off in case you broke them.”

“Where is it?” She fumbled them on and scanned the immediate vicinity it case it was trying to run up her back. “It was there, next to the sink.”

Harold looked where she pointed. “It must have been a trick of the light. You’ve got a nasty wound on your neck, you know. Perhaps it’s infected.”

Felicia probed the spot which was still tender to the touch but didn’t hurt any longer. There were more buttons undone that she remembered. “I don’t think so. Did you open my blouse?”

“One should when a lady faints. You take the rest of the day off. Have a fresh start on Monday.”

“I don’t open the gallery on Mondays.”

“Tuesday then.” Harold patted her hand. “I’m sure Jasfoup would take you home.”

“Sure, just as soon as I finish eating.”

Felicia turned at the sonorous voice. “Mr. Jasfoup. When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” He held up a kebab. “I’ll take you in a minute.”

Felicia nodded. “Thank you. I keep feeling dizzy. You don’t have something for a headache, do you? I think I’ve got a migraine coming on.”

“Not really, no.” Harold patted her knee. “I’ll lock up your gallery. You just get off home.”

“My purse.” Felicia looked around. “Where’s my purse?”

“You didn’t have one when you came up here. You must have left it downstairs.”

“Would you get it for me?”

“We’ll get it on the way out. It was a brown one, wasn’t it? With buckles?”

“Black with a zip.”

“You should go to the hospital.” Jasfoup spoke around a mouthful of shredded cabbage. “That’s a nasty dog bite you’ve got.”

Felicia laughed. “It wasn’t a dog. It was a...a person, last night.”

“Nevertheless. They might have had something and passed it on to you. Rabies, or Aids or fleas.”

“Fleas?” Felicia stared at him. “What are you on?”

“What an odd question.” Jasfoup looked down. “The floor, obviously.”

Harold laughed. “Honestly, Felicia, you’ve been seeing things all day. I really think you should go and get yourself checked over. I’d hate for you to have something serious and not know it.”

Felicia sighed and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

Harold paused in the doorway. “You’re very sensible to have it looked over.”

Jasfoup winked and popped the last morsel of kebab into his mouth. “Let’s go then. St. Pity’s accident and emergency?”

“I suppose. This is good of you, Mr. Jasfoup.”

* * * *

“I’m really not that bad.” Felicia looked at the man driving her car with too little attention to what gear he was in. She rubbed her temples and made an effort to unclench her jaw. “I could drive if you like.”

“No need.” Jasfoup grinned “I haven’t driven in years. Harold never lets me drive. Not since the pile-up on the M-twenty-five.”

“Pile-up?” Felicia braced herself surreptitiously. “What happened?”

“It was nothing to do with me. It was Henry’s fault.”

“Henry? Who’s that?”

“Tch.” Jasfoup zipped past a child on a bicycle. “Don’t you know your history? King Henry the Eighth. He was so opposed to the Catholic Church that he made everyone drive on the left. If he hadn’t done that all the other drivers would have been on the right side of the motorway.”

“Ah.” Felicia nodded. “Do you always blame others for your failings?”

“Only when it’s their fault.” He crunched down the gears as they entered the hospital grounds and executed a handbrake turn to drift the car to the casualty unit ambulance bay. “There you go. I’ll go and park while you register. I wouldn’t mention the goblins if I were you.”

She got out, relieved to be on solid ground again and waiting for her head to stop spinning. She took a deep breath and headed through the sliding doors.

* * * *

Harold jumped when Jasfoup materialized in the shop.

“Why did she have to go to the hospital? It’s obvious what’s wrong with her.”

“Lycanthropy?” Harold passed him a cup of tea. “It’s obvious to us but not her. She’s a mundane, or was. Did you see the wound on her neck?”

“It was too small to change her from a mortal. It’s almost as if she were waiting for a kick-start to become what she should have been all along.”

“Like a pot of paint waiting for a pigment.” Harold stroked his chin. “Do you think she’s nephilim?”

Jasfoup shrugged. “I do. It normally needs survival of a mortal wound for a mundane to become Changed. With Felicia it was just the introduction of the relevant DNA.”

“What about her sister? The one who can hear voices.”

Jasfoup frowned. “Are they twins?”

“No.” Harold poured tea for himself. “The sister is older by several years.”

Jasfoup stroked his chin. “Hears voices, you say? My guess is she can hear the Changed but not see them. I’m surprised she hasn’t gone mad.”

“She’s in a psychiatric hospital.”

“Worst place to be in her condition.”

“Why?”

“Those places are full of nephilim. Spirits, anyway. If she can hear all the lost souls talking she must be tearing the walls down with her fingernails.”

“Perhaps she’s in a padded cell.”

“Maybe.” Jasfoup drained the hot tea in one swallow. “I’ll have to get back to the hospital before she misses me.”

“The sister?”

“No. Felicia. I left her in A and E. She thinks I’m parking the car.”

* * * *

“Where have you been?” Felicia looked up from the plastic chair and dropped a three-year-old magazine back on the table. “I’ve been waiting half an hour.”

“The car park was full.” Jasfoup flopped into the seat next to her. “I had to find a ramp so I could tilt the car onto its side and park in the motorcycle spot. Have they not seen you yet?”

Felicia held up a ticket. “I’m number one-seven-three.”

Jasfoup looked at the ticket machine.

Now serving thirty-four

“It looks like we have a long wait. Fancy getting me one of those fluffy coffees from the cafeteria?”

“Can’t you get it? I’m supposed to be ill.”

“I parked the car. I’m hot and sticky.”

“All right.” Felicia sighed and took out her purse. “If I have a dizzy fit and die it’ll be your fault.”

“Noted.” Jasfoup grinned. “Leave me the ticket. I’ll sell your number if you do.”

“Thanks for the confidence.” Felicia followed the signs for the cafe and spent fifteen minutes queuing for a cup of what seemed to be coffee flavored washing-up water. She walked back to Jasfoup.

“Just in time. You’re next.” He indicated the ticket machine.

Now serving one hundred and seventy-two

“That’s weird.” Felicia looked around the room. The people waiting when she arrived had all gone. “How did that happen?”

“A sudden outbreak of well being, I expect. It’s a shame you missed it.”

The ticket machine buzzed and Felicia went to a curtained booth. “Wait here. I might have to get undressed.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would.” Felicia closed the curtain behind her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

The doctor was English, which made Felicia suspicious. Where were all the Indian ones she could trust? “I got wounded on my neck and had dizzy spells ever since.”

“How frequently?” The doctor took out a penlight and shone it into her eyes. He smelled musky, like stale tobacco and dog’s ears. “Open wide.”

“Three or four times today.” Felicia opened her mouth and held out her tongue. “Usually preceded by my seeing something that wasn’t there.”

The doctor smiled. “You’ll be hearing voices next. Let me have a look at this wound. How did you get it?” He cleaned it off. “It looks like a dog bite.”

Felicia looked him squarely in the eye. “It was rough sex. With a person.”

He tutted. “You should be careful about exchanging body fluids. You never know what you might catch. I’d better take a blood sample.” He swabbed and cleaned the wound, finishing with a plaster. “That should heal well.”

Felicia re-buttoned her shirt. “How long until I get the results?”

“Ten to fourteen days, although we can’t tell if you’re HIV positive for three months or more so I would advise another check-up then.”

“What about the dizziness and the seeing things?”

“I don’t think that’s anything to worry about. It’ll clear up in a day or two, I’m sure. If it doesn’t, go and have a word with your GP.” He held the curtain open as an indication for her to leave.

“Thanks a bunch.” She rose, straightening her blouse.

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a button on the wall and she could hear the numbers advance on the ticket machine. “Next, please.”

Jasfoup led her out of the hospital. “You sit here and I’ll fetch the car.”

* * * *

Felicia took her spectacles out of her bag and put them on, flipping down the passenger side visor to check her neck. Jasfoup glanced across and laughed.

“You look like a librarian.”

“Oh, thanks a lot.”

“No, I work in a bookshop, remember. We like librarians. We get the British Library pin-up calendar every year.” He grinned. “I like Miss April best, but Harold prefers Mr. November.”

“Harold’s gay?” Felicia twisted in her seat. “I thought he had a partner.”

“Gillian, yes, but a man is allowed his dreams, isn’t he?

“Of course.”

“Why the glasses, anyway?”

“My eyesight has shifted.” Felicia lowered the frames and looked over the top. “It’s got slightly better and I haven’t made an appointment with the opticians yet.”

Jasfoup nodded, twisting the wheel to avoid a stationary lorry. “Best wait a few days. It might change again and then you’d have the same problem. It might be the change in your eyesight causing your dizzy spells and visions.”

Felicia considered it. “That’s a good point. I’ll leave it until after the weekend.”

“Very wise.” Jasfoup put his foot down and sped through the traffic. “Now. Where do you live?”