The Paw in the Bottle

She was dropping off to sleep when a sudden crash of breaking glass startled her awake. She listened, then jumped out of bed, slipped on her dressing-gown.

‘He must have had an accident,’ she thought, alarmed and went quickly down the passage to Wesley’s room, listened outside the door. She heard movements and she knocked.

‘Who’s there?’ Wesley asked, then, ‘Oh, come in, Julie.’

She opened the door. He was standing in the middle of the room, in dressing-gown and pyjamas, and looked helplessly in her direction. He still wore the disfiguring black-lensed glasses, and she found herself wishing he would take them off. At his feet was a smashed tumbler, the contents of which made a dark pool on the carpet.

‘Hello, Julie,’ he said, with a rueful smile. ‘Come to rescue me?’

‘I heard—’ she began, stopped short when she saw blood running down his hand. ‘Oh! You’ve cut yourself.’

‘The damn thing slipped out of my hand, and when I tried to clear it up I dug a bit of glass into my finger.’

‘I’ll get a bandage,’ Julie said, glad to help him. She quickly brought a first-aid outfit from Blanche’s bathroom. ‘If you’ll sit down I’ll fix it for you.’

‘Thanks.’ He groped about, muttered under his breath, ‘Where’s the chair? I seem to have lost my bearings.’

She took his arm and led him to a chair.

‘It’s sickening to be so helpless,’ he said as he sat down. ‘I don’t know what I should have done if you hadn’t come.’

Not knowing quite what to say, and feeling ill at ease, she remained silent. She stopped the bleeding and wound on a bandage. ‘I’ll put a fingerstall on, then you won’t have any trouble,’ she said.

‘That’s very nice of you. Were you asleep?’

‘Oh, no,’ Julie said, as she slipped a wash-leather fingerstall over the bandage and fastened the tape round his wrist. ‘Is that comfortable?’

‘It’s fine.’ He flexed his fingers. ‘Have I made an awful mess?’

‘It’s all right, but I’ll clear it up.’

She fetched a dustpan and brush, swept up the pieces of glass and wiped the stain with a cloth.

‘It’s all right now,’ she said. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

He startled her asking, ‘How old are you, Julie?’

‘Twenty-one,’ she told him, wondering why he should ask. ‘And pretty?’

She blushed.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Gerridge says you are and I believe he is a good judge. It’s just occurred to me I shouldn’t be here alone with you. I should have thought of it before. Mrs. Wesley wouldn’t like it.’ He fidgeted with his dressing-gown cord. ‘But I don’t feel inclined to get dressed again and go to my club. I suppose I should, but I’m not going to. All the same I think it would be better not to say anything to Mrs. Wesley that I spent the night here. I shall say nothing and I’ll be glad if you don’t.’