Wasp Read Online Free PDF Page B

shoulder. Taking out a vial he dabs foul-smelling paste on the sores. ‘These can’t be allowed to fester.’
    ‘What difference does it make?’ she says. ‘I didn’t ask to be brought here.’
    ‘No, you didn’t,’ he concedes, ‘and if you’re so keen to go back to where you came from you can be returned with little trouble. So far, all you’ve cost us is a purse of coins and some inconvenience. You’ll have the rest of this night to dwell on it.’
    He stoppers the vial and returns it to the pouch. ‘You are running with lice. I shall have to shave you. All of you. Do you understand?’
    ‘Shave me?’
    ‘Yes. It won’t hurt, and the hair will grow back clean. Afterwards I shall give you something to make you sleep and a good clean bed. Kingfisher, you are finished here for the night.’
    The dark man nods and leaves by the mirror door.
    Baldy lays down a large square of canvas and fetches a table littered with ceramic bottles and strips of linen. ‘Stand there,’ he said, gesturing at the canvas. ‘We won’t tarry.’
    Bethany waits on the square while Baldy loosens her gown’s fastenings and lets it drop around her ankles. His touch is delicate, almost ticklish.
    ‘Please don’t.’
    ‘I’m a doctor. You mustn’t forget it.’
    ‘Then why do this in here? Why must I stand and face a hundred reflections of myself when a plain room would serve as well?’
    ‘This is a glasshouse, my little seed. You need to watch yourself grow and blossom. To believe it you must see it happen. This is where we start. Hold still.’
    He takes up a pair of shears and begins to cut her hair. A blizzard of matted chestnut wafts onto the canvas as the blades work around her head. ‘Lean this way,’ he encourages. ‘Now that. Turn around, yes, very good.’
    In the Comfort Home she had been stripped and beaten. She’d had her hair pulled until she thought it would come out by the roots. Every nook of her body had been violated in one horrible way or another, yet this is somehow worse. The gentle smiles, the soft snip-snip of sharpened metal.
    Finally he puts down the shears, picks up a bowl and brush, and soaps the top of her head. She squeals when she sees the open razor. ‘Close your eyes if you wish,’ he says. ‘I promise you shall hardly feel it.’
    She shivers at the first touch of metal against her scalp. But he’s as light as a fly. She opens her eyes, aware of his closeness, his smell. She eyes the stitching on his leather vest, the stubble along his forearms as they move.
    He wipes the razor on a strip of linen, snaps closed the blade and sets it down on the table. From one of the small porcelain bottles, he pours something onto a soft cloth and rubs it into Beth’s head. A warm flush spreads across her skin and a curious herbal smell fills her nostrils.
    ‘Did you get this from a Wise Woman?’ she asks.
    ‘Old Bobbo down at the apothecary, more like,’ Baldy laughs. ‘He’s no woman and definitely isn’t wise, but he gets his stock directly from his own herb garden. He mixes and bottles the preparations and he sells them on. Much better than the rat poison you get off some of these hawkers.’
    ‘My skin is tingling.’
    ‘Good. That means it’s working. Now we’ll get your underarms and crotch done. Lift up.’
    Beth raises both arms. Baldy picks up the razor and works on her armpits. When he applies the soap brush between her legs her muscles clench.
    ‘Don’t worry, Kitten. It’s not that kind of touch.’
    She tries to relax. It’s hopeless. She’s trembling from her toes to her teeth. Baldy squeezes her hand. ‘A minute more, I promise.’ Eyes close. She feels the wet warmth, the kiss of the bristles, the razor’s gentle scratch. Then a soft towel and more ointment.
    ‘What about your courses?’
    ‘My what?’
    ‘Your monthly time.’
    ‘I don’t have any.’
    ‘How long since you did?’
    ‘A while, I think.’
    ‘You were with child?’
    ‘I lost it. As best I