The Dover Cafe Under Fire by Ginny Bell

Author:Ginny Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction

Chapter 38

In the brief moments that the lights had been on, Edie had spotted Alfie kneeling beside a man lying in front of the stage. ‘Alfie!’ she called over to him, training her torch in his general direction.

‘Edie? Get over here. I need some help.’

Edie picked her way carefully towards him, trying not to breathe in too much dust, and knelt down beside the man, who was groaning and grasping at his crotch.

Alfie thrust a wad of cloth at her. ‘Press it against his groin,’ he shouted. ‘We’ve got to stop the blood. I’m gonna help over there.’

Edie took the cloth and trained her torch on the man on the floor. A dark stain was spreading over the front of his trousers, and quickly she unbuttoned his fly and, seeing that there was a long, deep cut at the top of his thigh, she pressed down on it as hard as she could.

‘Aargh! Get your hands off me!’ the man shouted, his voice high and shrill.

‘Oh, shhh. I need to stop the bleeding,’ she admonished.

‘Christ!’ he groaned, lying back on the floor. ‘To think I need to be bleedin’ to death before I can get a pretty girl to touch me.’

Despite the situation, Edie let out a short laugh. ‘Must be your lucky night.’

‘Ain’t it just.’ Despite his humour, though, the man was shaking with pain and shock.

‘It’s all right. Take a deep breath,’ Edie soothed, forcing her voice to stay calm, even though her heart was hammering and her armpits were damp with sweat.

Someone touched her shoulder and she squinted up, just making out Greg’s face in the torchlight. ‘Jesus Christ, Edith. Don’t leave me in the middle of an air raid! You coulda been killed!’

‘I’m fine,’ Edie said through gritted teeth. ‘But I think help’s needed over there.’ She nodded in the direction Alfie had gone.

Greg kissed her quickly on the head. ‘All right. But wait for me outside when you’re done. Don’t disappear again.’

Edie returned her attention to the soldier; her arms were trembling with the strain of pressing down on the wound and her throat was stinging from the dust. From somewhere, she could hear people groaning. A man shouted out, ‘Rosie Lockwood, are you safe?’

A woman’s voice called back. ‘I’m safe. Meet me outside.’

‘And they say . . . romance is . . . dead,’ the soldier gasped, attempting to laugh, but then falling back with another groan.

‘Lie still. You’ve lost a lot of blood so you need to conserve your energy.’

‘You a bloomin’ nurse or sumfing.’

‘A mechanic,’ she replied drily.

The man let out a snort. ‘Christ preserve me. You’ll be pouring petrol down me throat if I’m not careful.’

Suddenly another pair of hands appeared, knocking her own out of the way. ‘What do you think you’re doin’, girl?’

‘Hey!’ Edie cried. ‘I’m trying to stop the blood.’

‘Young girl like you’s got no business touching a bloke down there. Leave it to me and get out.’

She recognised Mr Bulger, the man who had been filling in for Jasper over the past few months.

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