She shakes her head quickly.
‘I’m not all right,’ she whispers and she reaches out her free hand to me and I take it and we sit there, the three ofus, huddled together in the doorway as scenes of a battlefield unfold around us. Her hand is hot and sticky, and I glance down to see that the stickiness is blood – her blood and mine mixed together, gluing our hands so we don’t let go. I won’t let go.
‘My leg!’ she whispers to me, rocking slightly as she does so. ‘I think I’ve broken my leg.’
I glance at her leg and then I look at her face, her head shaking with a nervous twitch, her eyes pleading with me for this whole experience not to be true.
‘I want my mummy!’ yells the little girl.
‘We’ll get home to Mummy soon, I promise, Shannon,’ Kate tells the little girl. ‘We’ll get help soon.’
‘You are so brave,’ I whisper softly to Shannon. ‘You are so, so brave, and you’ll be home soon in time for your party with no boys allowed except your daddy. We’re in this together now. Don’t worry. You’re not alone, Shannon.’
I glance at Kate, trying my best not to let the horror of this all sink in.
‘Thank you for saying that,’ she whispers, her face etched with pain and despair. Her eyes meet mine as her chest heaves up and down. She smiles in appreciation at me just a little, a bit like she did earlier when she was leaving the shop.
I keep holding her hand. I don’t ever want to let go.
KATE
There’s no time for formalities or introductions in this tiny shelter, no space to breathe or to ask any questions as to what we are experiencing right now.
It’s a bloodied blur, it’s carnage, it’s a war zone, and the only thing that keeps me sane right now is the knowledge that we are at least still alive. I dare not look left onto the street opposite the doorway we are sheltered in – me, Shannon and the boy from the ice-cream shop.
‘Let me help you,’ I say to him. His hand is still clutched in mine. His upper arm is sliced wide open, a huge weltering wound, and I know he hasn’t even glanced at it yet, but I see his skin going paler and paler and I know I need to help him.
I quickly check Shannon for serious injuries, but I know already that she seems physically OK apart from her hands and knees that are grazed and bloodied from where she must have hit the ground, but miraculously she isn’t in huge pain. But he is white, with shock beneath the soot that covers his face. I don’t need to see his skin to know this.
‘Just keep breathing nice and steadily and don’t look,’ I tell him. ‘It’s going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine.’
I know of course that nothing of what we are experiencing right now is fine. The street to my left is like a bloodbath.
I hope I’ll never witness anything like this in my wholelifetime again, no matter how long I work in the medical profession I’m training for.
‘Is it really bad?’ he asks, staring into my eyes as I loosen my neck scarf and fix it around his arm, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding at least for now.
‘This will help,’ I whisper, but I can barely hear my own voice over the racket around us. People are screaming out names of loved ones, others are trying to help each other as they too howl in pain at the same time, sirens squeal in the distance and the walking wounded groan and moan in despair as they wander aimlessly hoping for assistance.
As I’m fixing the makeshift bandage around his arm, despite the agony he must be feeling, he keeps focusing on my face and we both keep talking, which is a very welcome distraction to the surreal events around us.
‘Ask me something,’ I say, determined to keep him conscious. He is bleeding a lot and I’m afraid he might faint soon. ‘Ask me anything. First thing that comes into your head.’
He blinks his eyes ever so slowly.
‘Why are you so beautiful?’
‘You charmer,’ I say. ‘Ask me something else.’
‘What’s your favourite song?’ he asks me, his voice slightly delirious. His question, however random, does what I assume he intends it to and takes all our minds off the hideous job at hand as I wrap my scarf around his arm one last time.
‘I … I’m loving the new Savage Garden song,’ I say, trying to remember it in my head.
‘She plays it all the time,’ says Shannon’s little voice by my side.
‘And you, birthday girl?’ David asks Shannon. His breathing is slowing down. I really hope we get proper help soon.
‘I can’t think,’ she says, her words so tiny against the noise in the air.
