The Woman in the Fifth Read Online Free Page B

fully into the room. As he approached me, I could see that his face had grooved lines around the eyes – the sort of creases that belonged on the face of a man twenty years his senior. His suit was tight, ill-fitting, badly worn – and there was a serious tobacco stain on both his right index and middle fingers.
     
'Do you think you can get out of bed?' he asked.
     
'Not without help.'
     
'Then I will help you. But first I will run you a bath. A long soak will do you good.'
     
I nodded weakly. He took charge of things. Without flinching at its contents, he picked up the vase and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard him flush the toilet and turn on the bath taps. He emerged back into the bedroom, took off his suit jacket, and hung it up in the armoire. Then he picked up my jeans and the shirt and socks that had been placed on the desk chair and stuffed them in the pillowcase.
     
'Any other dirty laundry?' he asked.
     
'Just what I am wearing.'
     
He returned to the bathroom. The water stopped running. Steam leaked out through the doorway. He emerged, his face glistening from the vapors, his right arm wet.
     
'It is hot, but not too hot.'
     
He came over to the bed and sat me upright and placed my feet on the floor and then lifted up my left arm and pulled it around his shoulder and hoisted me up. My legs felt as sturdy as matchsticks. But Adnan kept me vertical and walked me slowly into the bathroom.
     
'Do you need help with your clothes?' he asked.
     
'No, I can handle it.'
     
But when I took one of my hands off the sink, I immediately lost balance and felt my knees warping. Adnan straightened me up and quietly asked me to keep one hand on the sink while raising the other above me. I was able to keep my arm aloft long enough for him to pull my T-shirt off my arm and over my head. Then he asked me to switch arms and inched the rest of it off. With a quick yank, he pulled my boxer shorts to the floor. I stepped out of them and allowed Adnan to walk me the two steps to the bath. The water was seriously hot. So hot that I recoiled when my foot first touched its surface. But Adnan ignored my protestations and gently forced me into the tub. The initial shock of the water gave way to a strange sense of scalded calm.
     
'Do you need help washing yourself?'
     
'I'll try doing it myself.'
     
I managed to soap up my crotch, my chest and underarms, but couldn't find the energy to reach down to my feet. So Adnan took the soap and dealt with them. He also brought over the shower hose and doused my hair and lathered it up with shampoo. Then he found a can of shaving cream and a razor among the toiletries he'd earlier unpacked, and knelt down by the bathtub and started covering my face in foam.
     
'You don't have to do this,' I said, embarrassed by all the personal attention.
     
'You will feel better for it.'
     
He took great care when it came to dragging a razor across my face. After he finished, he brought over the shower hose and rinsed off all the foam and the shampoo from my hair. Then he filled the sink with hot water, submerged a cloth in it, retrieved it, and without squeezing out its excess water, placed it over my face.
     
'Now you will lie here, please, for a quarter of an hour,' Adnan said.
     
He left the bathroom. I opened my eyes and saw nothing but the textured white of the cloth. I closed them and tried to empty my head; to concentrate on nothing. I failed. But the bath water was balming, and it was good to be clean again. I heard occasional noises from the other room, but Adnan left me be for a long time. Then there was a soft knock at the bathroom door.
     
'Ready to get out?' he asked.
     
Once again, he had to help me up and wrapped me in one of the thin hotel bath towels before handing me two folded items of clothing.
     
'I found these in your things. A pajama bottom and a T-shirt.'
     
He helped dry me down, then got me dressed and led me back to a bed that had been remade with fresh sheets.