Hospital of Santa Clara, Coimbra

"It's fine." Anything to keep from getting sewn up again, if he didn't need it.

"Soap, dear. Have you any?"

Oh. Oh. What was he, an idiot?

"No," he said in a small voice and stared at his hands.

"Oh well. I'll just do these outside by the pump, but will you call me when the tea's ready?"

"Yes."

The washing did not take long. There were only two garments, Maggie's chemise and one of her own. It was a pity there was no soap to be had - Jenny had been borrowing soap off of other women for months now - but with luck, Maggie's garment would look better once it was dry and mended. Maggie would probably not want it back, but Jenny could lend her one of her own.

As he'd been directed, Newbury kept a careful eye on the kettle. Instead of calling Jenny when the water began boiling, however, he pulled the kettle off its hook himself. It was as much to soothe his own pride as it was to be honestly useful.

"Tea," he said, making his way outside with a steaming cup.

"Oh, thank you Joe. No, I'll come inside." Jenny left the tub where it was - someone else could deal with it later - but brought her wet white bundles of clothing with her, dripping as she walked. She wrung them out as best she could before coming into their little entry hall. "Tea at last, wonderful. I'll just hang these up." She gave him a sudden hungry look and asked, "Have you got any food?"

Newbury shook his head. "Sorry. Left me pack behind when I came out to town this morning, before they all marched off."

She blinked. "You left your pack... behind? With the company?"

"Well... yes. Didn't know I wasn't gonna make it back to 'em." Newbury shrugged, a little helplessly. "Got me rifle at least."

"Well yes, I guess that's true. And you were very kind to stay, really. Why did you stay?" She draped the wet garments over the arms of a wooden chair, arranging Maggie's so most of the damage would not show. "Just as a favor to Gabriel Cotton?"

"It... yes," he answered, after a moment. Cotton had to be properly torn up, not knowing what had happened to Miss Evans. Staying to find out and look after her was the least Newbury could do.

"That's very kind," she said quietly and took a sip of her tea.

All he could think to do in reply was nod so that's what he did. There were other reasons why he'd stayed, but he preferred to keep those to himself.

Jenny nursed her cup of tea, staring into the fire. When she had swallowed the last gulp, she said, "I'm so tired. I'm hungry but I'm more tired. I think I'll just sleep and forget about eating tonight. But listen, dear, there's only the one bed - unless you feel like running next door to Strohmeier's digs, but I'd rather stay under one roof, if it's all the same to you. Though it would be one roof, since the house is connected, or partitioned or however it is, but anyway, I have my blanket but you don't have your pack, and you should sleep in the bed because you're hurt, and I won't mind with my blanket." She smiled sleepily after this long speech and added, "At least it's not cold."

At least it wasn't cold, that was true.

"Don't matter to me," Newbury said with a half-hearted shrug. He was tired himself and well-used to sleeping anywhere. It would be easy to fall asleep right where he was sitting, if he stayed there long enough. Just as long as he had his rifle within close reach.

She had expected more protest, but she smiled. This saved her from arguing with him. She would have won anyway, eventually. "Good. Here, I'll put the money on the table, in case you decide to go out." She added her own meager coins to those he had given her. "I don't mind, just don't wake me."

"All right."

Newbury pulled his rifle a little closer and settled more comfortably against the wall. He'd be asleep before too much longer.

Jenny was arranging her blanket like a little nest when she looked up and saw Newbury ready to fall asleep where he was sitting. "Joe. Bed." She tilted her head towards the bedroom door.

He twitched awake, surprised by her voice. "Huh? Oh. Right." Stifling a yawn, he shifted himself to his feet and picked up his jacket and rifle. He was in no mood to argue, tired and aching as he was.

She watched critically as he lumbered his way into the room. She heard a creak of boards and a thumping that seemed to indicate his falling onto the bed. That was good enough. She closed her eyes and hoped his bloody wound would not soak through to the mattress. But it was someone else's mattress, and someone else's problem.

Morning came too soon, or so it seemed to him. Or at least it was his perception of morning. It was still dark when he awakened and it hurt to move.

"Bloody..." Newbury muttered, realising upon inspection that his bandage had soaked all the way through. His shirt was likewise heavily stained, but it seemed that the blood was not fresh. Hissing to himself, Newbury peeled his shirt free of the bandage and carefully tucked the hem back into his trousers.

Jenny had asked after food the night before and it occurred to him that he was hungry too. Treading carefully so as not to make too much noise, Newbury made his way across the floor toward the door and out, mindful of her request not to wake her. Once outside, he eased his arms back into his jacket and buttoned it up. Hopefully he could find something worth eating somewhere in town.

By the time Jenny awoke it was much lighter, and she set to work making tea and mending Maggie's chemise. She was not concerned with Newbury's absence. It was pleasant to have some time alone, and also pleasant to sit on his bed. He would be back soon enough.

Newbury's foraging quest took him to the opposite parts of town. He was not above stealing small bits of food and by the time he started back for the house, he had managed to acquire half a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a bottle of something that smelled like wine. Excellent luck for him that somebody had left their back door unlatched.

"Mornin'," he greeted quietly as he elbowed the door open, not sure if Jenny would be awake yet.