Chapter 18

Ford walked to the counter, ringing the bell that had summoned Clara earlier. She ambled out of the backroom, a bottle of booze in one hand, a smile on her face. “Yes?” she drawled.

“You better see to him if you don’t want him to die,” Ford announced, dumping Bill on the floor. Eliza couldn’t suppress her wince at the unmistakable sound of his skull against the hard wood.

“Oh, my God!” Clara shrieked. “What happened?”

“He tripped,” Ford said. “While changing the sheets. We need a new room.”

“Changing the sheets? Bill didn’t change no sheets, he…” Her words faded as Ford caught her eye. “I…you need a better room? No problem. Let me just grab your key.”

“Thank you.”

“Ely!” Clara shouted, “Get out here!”

“Yes’m?” A young, daft-looking boy shuffled out of the backroom.

“Take Bill here in the back, get him cleaned up. I’ll be down in a moment to bandage his head.”

“Yes’m.”