Island Hideaway 19 - The Leaving Gift​

I'd not seen Mo since she started her job. I'd barely had contact with her from that day until Eddie had turned up at in a private boat with her comatose body.​​
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I knew there was something weird about Mo’s job. She'd always been one of us, a leftie, an establishment-hater, yet as soon as she graduated she took a job with Megabastard Corporation.​​
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The night before she left she came to see me.​​
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"I want you to take something from me," she said.​​
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"Your virginity?" I bantered.​​
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"You have a time machine?" she bantered back.​​
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Eventually the banter stopped.​​
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"Of course," I said. "Anything."​​
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She sat beside me on the sofa. There was an old film on TV, muted, black and white, lots of British officer-class actors playing British officers, doubtless planning some spiffing, low-budget, black and white plot to foil Hitler and get back to blighty in time for tea, all within 90 minutes.​​
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She held me tightly, but not cuddle-tightly, she held me purposefully, as if she was holding a particular part of my body a particular way for a particular reason. Me, I knew nothing, I was just sitting there, while she held on, right hand on my right shoulder, left hand on the left hand side of my stomach. ​​
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I sat there. She held on, squeezing tightly but otherwise not moving. Breathing heavily, slowly, as if concentrating. ​​
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I felt something enter me, like a rush of warm snow. It washed all the way through my body, only it didn't start from anywhere, there was no pain, no wound. It was something other, something intangible, but nonetheless present. I didn't panic, I'd agreed to this, I let the warm snow flow. Mo sat there squeezing, saying nothing, while the snow whooshed around my body until, eventually, it stopped being snow. My body returned to normal, only of course it hadn't, something had taken place.​​
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She sat there like that for over an hour, long after the snow had settled, squeezing the same places, otherwise not moving. Eventually she was done. She got up, with difficultly, whatever had happened she was clearly exhausted by it.​​
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"I have to go," she said.​​
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I nodded. ​​
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And with that she left.  ​​
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After she left I stripped naked and checked my body. Although the feelings were emotional, internal, I was convinced there must be some physical sign of what happened. I stood in front of the mirror, turning, looking, feeling, checking my own body. Eventually I found it. A small lump behind my left knee, about the size of a 50p coin. It was flesh coloured, not hard, soft, normal flesh, just more of it than there had been before. It was harmless, I didn't feel any pain, I didn't feel anything. It didn't affect running or walking, but it didn't go away. I took it with me when I moved to the island. It was still there when Mo arrived on the island in her coma. ​​
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