Right. Newt got the message.Arsehole.
Jorge pushed his jacket at him, then strode towards the kitchen. Newt slung it over the banister, hoping it would fall off, except it didn’t, then followed. The guy’s tattooed biceps were huge. Not something Newt found attractive. The biceps, not the tattoos. He’d quite like a tattoo if he ever had money to spare.
“Morning, River,” Jorge all but shouted. “Ready to do some work? No pain, no gain! Up and at ‘em. What hurts you today makes you stronger tomorrow.” He clapped his hands.
Christ.There was no need to yell. Particularly not clichés. River wasn’t deaf. Or stupid. Newt wasn’t sure whether to say anything or not. Not about the use of clichés but the shouting. River looked miserable as they made their way to the gym. Jorge continued to offer encouraging remarks in much too loud a voice.
I have to say something.
“River’s not deaf,” Newt yelled as loudly as he could.
Both River and Jorge stopped walking and turned to look at him. River’s eyes were wide and he had a little smile on his face.Ah, maybe I was right. Not a bad night but anticipation of a bad morning.
Jorge didn’t say anything before he turned and continued towards the gym. Newt followed. At least Jorge kept his mouth shut.
Physio wasn’t something Newt knew much about, but it wasn’t comfortable watching River being hurt. It made Newt clench his teeth until they squeaked. Mild discomfort was one thing but doing something that caused a sharp pain didn’t seem right. River was gasping and crying out as Jorge pulled and twisted his weaker arm, and all Jorge did was yell louder at him.
“Pull against my fingers. Pull! You’re not trying. Make the effort.”
River’s face was tight with discomfort.
Newt didn’t want to keep watching, but he did. He also surreptitiously recorded before Jorge noticed and told him to stop.
“I just wanted to see what to do,” Newt said.And it won’t be doing what you’re doing, dickhead.
River struggled with everything. The session on the treadmill almost ended in disaster when he tripped. Newt ran towards him but fortunately, Jorge was quick to stop the machine before River was thrown off, though he did end up on his knees.
“He’s fine. Stop panicking,” Jorge snapped.
“You need to take more care with him.”
The look Jorge shot him was one of pure menace.
By the time the hour was up, River was a sweaty mess on the treatment bed having his bad leg worked on, and Newt was seething. He couldn’t let Jorge leave without saying something.
“Stay here,” Newt told River as Jorge packed up his stuff and got ready to leave.
As Jorge headed off, Newt followed.
“There’s no need to shout at him,” Newt said when they reached the hall. “He’s not deaf or stupid.”
“He’s not trying.”
“Yes, he is. You can’t ask him to do more than he’s capable of.”
Jorge scoffed. “That’s the point of physio, to get him back to the way he should be.”
“At a pace that’s appropriate and suitable for the individual. You’re pushing him too hard.”
Jorge stepped right into Newt’s space and Newt stood his ground. Though barely. “Are you a qualified physiotherapist? No, you are not. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Keep your mouth shut and keep your hands off him.” His eyes widened and he chuckled. “Oh, I get it. That’s your game, is it?”
Newt felt a flutter of panic in his stomach. “What game? I have no idea what you mean. I’m employed to look after River. Housekeeper and speech therapist.”I’m not the latter, but you don’t know otherwise.“I can help him with his exercises. But I don’t like the way you treat him.”
“It’s physio. It hurts. Grow a pair!”
As soon as Jorge’s car was out of the gate, Newt returned to the gym. He found River lying just where he’d left him. He looked terrible. His face was white.
“He’s gone.” And Newt wasn’t going to let him come back. But since he couldn’t promise that, he didn’t say it. “Can I help you sit up?”
