Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles Book 3) by Michele Brouder

Author:Michele Brouder [Brouder, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-09-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Diana walked back from the canteen at the end of her lunch break, readying herself to sidestep Creepy Les, the assistant foreman. He was so named because of the way he treated the women at the plant. He opened his mouth to say something as she passed, but she picked up her pace. On the advice she’d received early on from some of the other women she worked with, she steered clear of him.

“Hey, Diana!”

Diana turned and caught sight of Sally, whose job it was to paint the American insignia on the planes, waving to her. She waited until Sally caught up.

“There’s a dance Saturday night at the Lavender Bay Pavilion,” Sally said. “Are you going?”

“You can bet on it,” Diana said with a smile. She loved dancing. She loved jitterbugging. She went out every chance she got. And Saturday, she was on the day shift, so that would be perfect.

“Great! I’ll meet you there.”

With a smile and a wave, Diana trotted off to her post. The bell sounded, signaling lunch break was over and work was to commence.

She arrived at her buffer, breathless, and turned it on. As it started, she put her hand on her head, realizing she’d forgotten to put her headscarf back on. She pivoted to grab it off the workbench where she’d left it, her hair swinging behind her as she turned. That’s when she felt it: the pull on her scalp as her hair wound into the buffer. She screamed, instinctively reaching out for something to hold on to, and then suddenly she was free. It all happened so fast. Her workmate saw it happening and lunged to turn the machine off, but it was too late.

Diana felt something wet draining down the side of her head and onto her shoulders. She put her hand up to her head, and it came away covered in blood. She turned slowly. Her workmate stood there with her hands covering her mouth, stifling a scream. Diana looked at the buffer. A section of her long hair—her beautiful, golden, honey-colored hair—was wrapped around the buffer with a large piece of pink flesh dangling from the end of it.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she hit the floor.

The next thing she was aware of was someone kneeling at her side, patting her hand.

“Diana! Diana!”

She swam back up to consciousness, out of the blackness and into the harsh lighting of the factory. For a moment, she wondered how she got on the floor. There was an incredible pain on the side of her head. She reached up to touch it.

“Don’t touch it, honey,” advised a woman she didn’t know, someone who didn’t work in her department.

“Ambulance is on its way,” someone else said.

“You girls are told a million times to wear your headscarves.” She recognized the voice of Creepy Les.

“Shut up, Les,” said a female voice.

Things on the edge of her field of vision began to go from light to gray to black, and she could feel herself sinking back into unconsciousness.

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