Chapter Thirteen Aletta
Chapter Thirteen
Aletta
‘Aletta, what were you thinking!’ Her father rushed forward, dropping to his knees and roughly turning Harry over, lowering close enough to listen for his breath, his eyes wide.
It was then that Aletta saw the blood that was seeping through his shirt and realised just how close she’d been to losing him on the journey home – what a miracle it was that he’d managed to keep moving.
If their apartment had been even one more block away, he might not have made it, and she couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like to leave him behind. ‘He’s been stitched up, but—’
‘Jan, we need to do something,’ her mother said. ‘What, Aletta, why—’ She shook her head. ‘How?’
‘I—’ Aletta couldn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say, other than something deep inside her had refused to turn away from him. That she hadn’t been able to even consider leaving him behind.
‘Quickly, we need to move him, and we need to stop this blood or we’ll have a body on our hands,’ her father said. ‘We can question our daughter later, Emma, when there’s not an Allied airman lying in our living room.’
Aletta hovered, not sure what to do. She’d never heard him so angry before, and she understood.
Of course she understood. How could she not?
They’d made a deal, they were to stay safe, and instead of following those rules she’d brought danger directly to their doorstep. She’d disobeyed his only rule.
When she looked at her father, his face was as white as a sheet, and she wished she hadn’t been the cause of it. But her guilt was overridden by imagining what might have happened to Harry if she hadn’t agreed to take him.
‘I have supplies,’ Aletta said, finding her voice and looking up at both her parents.
‘We have to stop the bleeding, and I have fresh bandages in here. I don’t care if I have to hold my hand to his side all night, I’m not giving up on him.
’ She took a breath, her heart pounding. ‘We have to save him.’
Her mother met her gaze, her nostrils slightly flared, her anger perhaps giving way to a shared determination to save the man lying on their carpet.
Because her mother was one of the most compassionate people she knew, and there was no way she could have turned her back on an injured young man either.
As angry as she might be in the moment with her daughter, Aletta knew her mother would forgive her.
‘I’ll get some towels and warm water to clean him up,’ her mother said.
‘You check the wound and see how bad it is. Jan, get some bedding together and put it in the secret room for him. We need to keep him warm and comfortable if he’s going to survive the night, and one way or another, we’re going to have to get him in there. ’
Aletta swallowed and caught her mother’s wrist as she rose. ‘I’m sorry, I just couldn’t—’
‘We’ll save him first, Aletta, and talk later,’ she said, her voice terse. ‘Right now, we need to focus on keeping this young man alive.’
She let go of her mother and looked at the man lying in front of her instead.
Her father left her alone with Harry, and she lifted his shirt, her stomach turning when she saw how much blood had soaked through his bandage.
He might have been stitched closed, but there was still blood leaking everywhere and she was starting to wonder just how skilled the veterinarian had been.
Shouldn’t the stitches have stopped the blood?
She didn’t know much about nursing, but if the wound had been stitched correctly, he wouldn’t be leaking like that.
‘Harry.’ She fought tears as she studied his face. ‘Harry, if you can hear me, you have to fight. This can’t be it. You have to keep fighting.’
‘Aletta?’
She shifted her weight when her mother spoke and glanced up at her, not having heard her come back into the room.
‘I have about as much experience at nursing as you do, but we’re smart women. There’s no reason we can’t help this man, do you hear? There’s no reason we can’t make sure he survives until morning.’
Aletta nodded, biting down on her bottom lip to stop from crying. She barely knew him, but to think that a young man who’d only a short time earlier been talking and walking beside her, might die? She couldn’t even make sense of it, and something inside her wanted to break.
‘I’m going to cut this bandage off him, and then you’re going to press this to his wound and hold it firmly, until the bleeding stops,’ her mother instructed. ‘Then we’re going to apply this towel over the top of it.’
Aletta did as she was told, fighting nausea as the blood stained her fingers red. She couldn’t stop staring at the way it seeped into her skin.
‘Talk to your young man, Aletta. When he wakes up, he’s going to be in a world of pain, and I’d say your face and your voice is what’ll get him through this ordeal.’
‘But he barely knows me,’ she said, looking down at Harry’s face as she pressed firmly on his wound.
He had thick, dark eyebrows with black eyelashes dusting his cheekbones, full lips that were just parted.
She’d have been lying if she said she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was, but it didn’t change the fact that they were essentially strangers.
‘Trust me, Aletta, you being the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes will help, whether you realise that now or not.’
It felt like forever until they had the bleeding under control, but Aletta had no concept of whether it was seconds, minutes or hours.
All she knew was that her hands were now stained entirely red, but that red was drying and there was no longer blood seeping from Harry.
Her breath was shaky as she let it go and met her father’s gaze as he knelt beside her, seeing the worry in his eyes.
‘We’re going to move him now, Aletta,’ he said, gently. ‘We’re all going to help lift him.’
‘My hands,’ she managed, staring down at her right one in particular. ‘I need to—’
‘Sweetheart, you can wash your hands once he’s safely moved.’
‘Jan, I think she’s in shock.’ Aletta heard her mother speak but didn’t turn, her focus firmly back on Harry.
‘All of us need to lift him,’ her father said. ‘On three.’
Aletta scrambled to her feet and cupped her hands beneath Harry’s shoulders, using all her strength to heft him up, her mother and father both groaning as they lifted him above the carpet.
‘Let’s go, just little steps,’ her father said, as she began to shuffle backwards, her fingers digging into Harry’s warm shoulders.
They managed to get him into the room, but from there it was more difficult.
They set him down and her father took the position by Harry’s head, dragging him backwards into the hidden space, and when Aletta crawled through, she helped to move him a little more.
Her mother appeared behind her with two pillows, and they propped them beneath his head, covering him with the blankets, and when they were finished, they stood and stared down at him.
‘Do you think he’s going to make it?’ Aletta asked, the words thick in her throat.
She saw her mother and father exchange glances. Their guess was probably as good as hers, but their silence worried her.
‘I certainly hope so,’ her father finally said, rubbing at his face, and she wished that she hadn’t been the one to heap even more worry on his shoulders.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her shoulders beginning to shake as she noticed her blood-stained hands again. ‘I just couldn’t, when I saw him, when I—’
‘Shhhh,’ her mother murmured, holding out her arms and folding Aletta into her body. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘She’s right, Aletta,’ her father said. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. The only wrong is that this young man needs someone like us to hide him, just to keep him alive.’
She stayed in her mother’s arms, eyes shut as she inhaled the familiar, sweet, floral smell of her perfume.
‘It’s time for you to get cleaned up,’ her mother eventually said, pressing a kiss to her brow.
‘I can’t leave him,’ Aletta said, letting go of her and looking down at Harry.
‘You don’t have to leave him, you just have to go and wash up,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay with him until you return, I promise.’
Aletta hesitated. She didn’t want to leave the room, but she also felt as if her skin were crawling with the blood drying all over it, and when she moved her fingers it almost felt as if the blood were cracking across her skin.
‘You promise?’
Her mother nodded and reached out to stroke her hair. ‘I promise. Take all the time you need to wash up, and I’ll be here until you get back.’
Aletta moved past her father, who stayed silent but softly touched her shoulder, and she padded through the house, not stopping until she slumped forward over the washbasin.
As the water ran over her skin, so did her tears glide down her cheeks, thick, gulping tears that had her entire body shaking as she scrubbed at her hands and wrists.
This is war. For the very first time, she’d seen a glimpse of what war did to the men fighting for them, and she didn’t know if she had the stomach for it, if she could live with the thoughts that would now haunt her, especially if Harry didn’t wake up.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, and once her hands were finally clean, her nails scrubbed, she splashed her face until her eyes no longer stung from crying. She knew they would be swollen and red still, and a quick glance at the mirror confirmed it, but at least she was clean.
Aletta dried herself and then made her way to her bedroom, finding something warm to wear and a pair of wool socks.
The house was warm, but she couldn’t stop shivering, and the winter clothing at least made her feel better.
But she still had to wrap her arms around herself as she walked back down the short hallway to the sewing room, ducking into the secret room to find both her parents still there.
They were speaking in hushed voices, but they stopped talking when she entered.