Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me and waited patiently for a reply.Appalled and completely at a loss for words, I could think of nothing but the same trick I had pulled on Alicia. I raised my left hand and displayed the wedding band. It did not work so well this time."Yes, yes, I know," she said impatiently. "I've thought about that a lot. But what can I do?"As I gathered my thoughts I remembered that Fran had met Wendy: twice in fact, once at the company's Christmas dinner ("Partners welcome") and once when Wendy had to come up to town for some appointment and looked in at the office. Both times they had chatted in the most amicable way and after the second meeting Wendy had talked to me about possibly inviting her for dinner. "But Fran, think," I said. "You know Wendy. She's a lovely person. Just think about the implications for her — for all of us — of what you're saying." I have thought about it," she insisted, "and it's a rotten situation. It's so unfair. I've got nothing. Someone had moved our things while I was meeting with the others, so I requested a couple of empty buckets – the captain looked confused, but provided them without comment – and proceeded to fill them with warm water from the shower head I retrieved from my pack. At this point, I don’t care in the slightest if someone asks about the water, frankly. With some cloths and a bar of soap hidden in the bottom of my bag, I started cleaning up my husband.It took a long time until I was satisfied; he was covered in blood and sweat from head to toe, his trousers were a complete loss, and the man was seriously built – which meant heavy as hell. I ended up needing help from his guard to gently roll him side to side so I could wash him down, rebandage his wounds, and redress him in clean clothes. Once I was done, I locked the door and repeated the process for myself – even washing my hair in one of the buckets – but the entire time, I didn’t take my eyes off the motionless, pale form on the bed.
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