‘And it’s a beautiful evening, for the moment at least.’ He had turned from the window, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. ‘Tomorrow, we will get you up, Johnny. Ret S’Mai and I will help you.’ Underlining his words with a firm nod, Dr Ung had crossed to the door, ignoring the scowl on Johnny’s face.Tossing his P. G. Wodehouse novel on the bedside table, Johnny relaxed back against the pillows and closed his eyes. The shadows of leaves from the trees shading the courtyard moved across his face, and a warm breeze carrying the sweet hint of frangipani flowers drifted through the room. A door swung open, then sucked against its rubber stopper as it closed.Opening his eyes, Johnny tilted his head towards the window. Two figures were crossing the courtyard to the bench by the far wall, under the trees. One was tiny, a dwarf. Johnny narrowed his gaze. The dwarf was hobbling on his hands, which were wrapped with a protective padding of dirty white cloth. The remains of his legs, hip-length stumps, swung beneath him, the muscles of his arms taut and overdeveloped in relation to the rest of his wasted body.
