Borrowed Time

“Is it just your side that hurts?” I asked.

He nodded and I motioned for someone to bring me some cloths.

“I think he’s broken a rib,” I said to the young girl who came over to us. “Can you let Nellie know, please?”

Turning back to the patient I ran the cloths she’d handed me through the water and began wringing them out into the bowl, noticing for the first time how bloodied and filthy my hands were.

“That’s my shirt,” he said, cocking his head to the side and taking a better look at me as I dabbed the dirt from his face. “Fancy stealing from a dying man.”

“You must be Mair’s brother,” I said with a smile, glad to know we would be able to give her some good news.

“No, Mair’s my sister.” He attempted a small laugh that brought with it some discomfort, making him twist his body awkwardly.

“We’ll get something over to you for the pain in a minute,” I said in an attempt to reassure him. “Mair will be glad to see that you’re ok. She’s been worried sick.”

“Does she know you’ve been pinching from her washing line?” His lips curved up into a handsome smile that made his short beard crease into two large dimples on either side of his face. I rolled my eyes at him and looked away certain that my cheeks would flush red at any moment.

He reached up and grabbed my hand. I thought it was perhaps an effort to stop me from cleaning his face but he just held onto it and so I clenched my fingers tightly around his. Despite his attempts to joke with me, there was a fear that sat in his eyes and I braced myself for the inevitable moment when the panic and realisation of the situation would set in.

“You’re alright,” I said, hoping to keep him calm. “The worst of it is over and Nellie will get you fixed in no time.”

He remained silent and for a moment we just stared at each other, completely still, offering silent comfort to each other. It was only as Nellie approached us a few moments later that I finally pulled my hand away.

“Here, take this for me, Gwyn,” she said as she came up beside me. She squeezed two drops from a dark bottle into a glass and poured some whiskey over it. She passed it to me and put a hand behind Gwyn's head, propping him forward slightly while I raised the mixture to his lips. “That should help,” she said, and then she scurried off again.

He swallowed the mixture and scrunched up his face in disgust as it washed over his tongue. When he was done he opened his mouth as if to prove that it was gone and I let out a little chuckle at the silliness of it. “So, what brings you to Cwm Newydd, Tom?

“Just on the lookout for unguarded laundry lines,” I replied with a smirk. “I need some new socks for a complete set before I can move on to the next town.”

“Well hopefully you don’t find them too soon,” he said and another silence fell between us as he smiled at me.

“GWYN? GWYN!” Mair’s voice echoed down the corridor and she was soon at the door demanding to be let in. The women guarding the entrance made a valiant effort to keep her in the corridor but neither was a match for Mair and she barged her way through and over to where we sat.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I said as she gripped her brother’s hand and began talking to him in Welsh. “It was nice to meet you, Gwyn.”

His eyes trailed me as I rose to my feet. “See you soon, I hope.”

Another two bodies were being taken out as I looked around for what I could do next. Piles of dirty bandages lay strewn across the floor and bowls of bloody water were dotted around where people had been treated, leaving me having to tiptoe around them to get to the back of the room. Spotting Daniel with his hands in his lap instead of on his wound as instructed, I made my way over to him

“I thought I said to keep that pressed to your head,” I said as I kneeled beside him. He had his back against the wall and his head leaned against a bookshelf. I reached for his hand that lay upturned on the floor beside him, the bandage I’d given him sitting loosely in his palm, and the instant I touched him my blood ran cold.

“Daniel?”

I leaned in and gave him a little nudge to the arm, but he didn’t move.

“Daniel, wake up, buddy,” I pleaded.

I gripped his shoulders and shook him firmly but his eyes stayed closed and his head rocked back and forth, lifeless.

“Daniel, please wake up,” I begged and I felt the first tears begin to run down my face. Despite my pleas, he remained motionless and I sank to the floor beside him. I scooped him up and held him close to me, his arms falling to my sides, and I sobbed for him. I sobbed for all of them as I rocked back and forth with his young body in my arms in the corner of classroom two.

When they came for Daniel’s body they didn’t bring a stretcher with them, instead, Mr Jones cradled him and carried him out by hand. He was the youngest of the victims. Fifty-three men and boys lost their lives in total, eighteen of them from our village.