Page 75 of A December to Remember
The weekend had brought a flurry of wood donations, and they were busily arranging them on the growing pyre. Star had successfully wedged an old headboard into a gap when Duncan gave a yelp and jumped away from the stack as though he’d been burned.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He was clutching his left hand with his right. His eyes were huge. “S-splinter,” he stammered. “Big one.”
“Here, let me see.” She went to him and eased his hand away from his chest.
She didn’t want to alarm him, but it was the biggest splinter she had ever seen in her life and it was embedded deep into the fleshy part at the base of his thumb.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” he said, his head turned determinedly away. He had begun to take very deep breaths and seemed a little unsteady on his feet.
“No.” She tried to inject some jolly nonchalance into her voice as she eyed the giant splinter. “It’s no big deal. We will have to get it out, though.”
At this, Duncan began to sway, and she noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was a tall man and had a long way to fall if he passed out. She didn’t fancy her chances of getting him up to the flat, or at this point even back into the shop.
“I’ve gone hot,” he said. “Really hot.” He didn’t sound like himself at all.
“I tell you what,” she coaxed, “why don’t we sit you down over here.” She led him away from the pyre and over to a mossy bench by the garden wall. Duncan allowed himself to be guided and helped to sit. “Maybe pop your head between your knees for a couple of minutes while I go and get the first aid kit.”
He did as he was told. “I feel sick,” he groaned from between his legs. His splinter hand rested limply on the bench.
“I know you do, it’s okay. You’ve had a nasty shock and it’s made you feel a bit faint, that’s all. You’re going to be fine. I’m going to fix you right up.”
“I feel stupid. I’m sorry,” he managed between deep breaths.
“Don’t apologize. This is a perfectly natural reaction to finding a foreign body in your body.”
Duncan moaned in response. She rubbed his back.
“You’re okay,” she cooed. “Everything is going to be fine. Will you be all right if I nip up to the flat to get supplies?”
He gave a strangled “Yeah.” Followed by, “I’m just going to keep breathing.”
“Always best to,” she said, and walked casually away until she was sure he couldn’t see her, and then she broke into a sprint.
In the flat she grabbed a bowl of water, a pair of tweezers, some antiseptic, and the biggest plasters she could find. Then she changed her mind and ditched the plasters for some gauze and a bandage. That mother splinter was going to leave a hole.
She raced back downstairs to find Duncan exactly as she had left him.
“I’m back,” she said quietly.
“My ears are whistling.”
“Righty-ho. Now, do you want me to tell you what I’m doing, or shall I just do it?”
He made a retching sound but recovered himself. “Probably better to just do it,” he whimpered.
“Hold very still, okay?”
“Very still,” he echoed, his head wedged firmly between his legs.
Star took his hand and he groaned.
“Very still.”
“Still,” he whispered.
She picked up the tweezers and gently secured them over the end of the splinter. She didn’t want to leave any wood behind, which could cause infection later, so she had to do this slowly.
