"Coffee?"
"Yes, please," said my graceless brother, still sipping his tea. Something occurred to me, a piece of the puzzle that was missing.
"Yes, but how do we know that I am an iron…metaboliser?" I hoped I'd pronounced the term correctly. I also hoped that they weren't going to ask me to cut myself to prove it. I wasn't keen on that idea at all.
Angus tilted his head to one side, and eyed me speculatively.
"You can probably remove that cast now. I'll bet your fracture has healed already."
"But it's only been, what, six days since I broke it! It's supposed to take at least six weeks to heal."
"I know. And I'm sure you haven't noticed yet, but it doesn't hurt anymore, does it." It wasn't a question.
"No, it stopped hurting the day after it happened…" My voice trailed off.
"Let's take it off!" Mark sounded eager. I pulled a face at him.
"I don't see any plaster saws hanging around here, do you?" I was strangely reluctant to have any definitive proof that I was indeed different from other people.
Angus grinned suddenly and stood up. He walked over to where I still lay on the large sofa, leaned over, grasped the lower edge of my cast with both hands, and simply tore it apart, right down the centre. I lay dead still, mesmerised by the strength of this man, and slightly concerned that he could rip my leg off by accident if I moved. I glanced down at my exposed knee and gasped. It looked completely normal. The abrasions that had been splattered over the outer surface of my knee had disappeared. There was no bruising, and no swelling. I flexed my knee. No pain, either. Angus lifted the mutilated cast off the sofa and I swung my leg over the side, and stood up in one easy movement.
"Cool!" said Mark.
"Yeah, cool," I agreed.
Angus
She took it better than I thought she would. They both did. I was really starting to like Mark with his bizarre sense of humour, and his unconventional thinking. And my cat was clearly infatuated with him. I was grateful to him too, for helping Rebecca come to terms with her new life so smoothly. His easy acceptance of the situation had been of enormous benefit to her. I would have to thank him properly someday soon.
"Rebecca. Mark." They looked at me expectantly, waiting for the next revelation. They were still only children, and I suddenly felt guilty for involving them in this complicated situation. And then I remembered how Rebecca had looked when she was dying and all my remorse vanished. I hadn't involved them. Genetics had.