"Thanks." Sam twisted his foot round in and effort to see the damage. "I can't see. What's the damage?"
"It looks manky." Dill was aware of the inadequacy of his description. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture. "Here. I'll bluetooth it to you."
"You could just show me." Sam's phone bleeped and he pulled it out to accept the connection. The image appeared a moment later. "Eww."
"Think I could put a plaster on that?"
"Have you got a plaster?"
"Do I look like a paramedic? No." Dill dug into his pockets. "I've got a boiled sweet. You could use the wrapper."
"What flavour boiled sweet?"
"Er..." Dill checked. "Lemon."
"No ta. Look, here's the waitress. Excuse me, miss. Do you have a plaster?"
"What do you think this is? A hospital?" The waitress unloaded the glass of water and cup of coffee from her tray. "That'll be four pounds fifty."
"Actually," Dill looked up from the search engine on his phone. "The Health and Safety (First Aid) Regulations 1981 dictate that you're required by law to have a first aid kit on the premises. There could be a large fine involved if we complained."
The waitress closed her eyes. Dill knew she was counting to ten because her lips were moving. "I'll ask, okay?"
"Okay." Dill sat back and busied himself with taking a few pictures of the cafe and the waitress.
"You're not allowed to take photographs. I haven't signed a model release form."
"I don't intend to make any money from them so it doesn't apply. Besides, I'm in a public place so you can't stop me."
"You sitting on privately owned furniture."
"Placed on a public highway. There could be obstruction laws involved."
"What are you a solicitor?"
"No, but my friend here is bleeding to death while we wait for this plaster." They both looked at Sam who had a froth moustache from his coffee.
"Yeah, right." The waitress stalked off.
Dill put his phone on the table. "She fancies me."