“Okay then, Traynor, you show me yours.” He gazed at me steadily, half smiling. “You’ll have to put a new dressing on it when we get home.” “Yeah. Like that never happens. Go on. I’m not driving off until you do.” “Lift my shirt, then. To the right. Your right.” I leaned through the front seats, and tugged at his shirt, peeling back the piece of gauze beneath. There, dark against his pale skin, was a black-and-white-striped ink rectangle, small enough that I had to look twice before I realized what it said. Best before: 19 March 2007 I stared at it. I half laughed, and then my eyes filled with
...more
