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Anthony fell backwards into the hall, he was a ghastly pale colour, alive but unconscious, and covered in blood.

Edith fell to her knees by his side, took his hand, and said his name over and over, willing him to open his eyes.

"Anthony! Anthony, my darling!"

Richard knelt down to feel for a pulse in Anthony's neck while Charles quickly took control, turning to the two attachés.

"James, David, could you help me bring Sir Anthony further in so I can shut the door? Thank you."

He looked at Richard waiting for his signal, one way or the other. After what felt like an hour to Edith, Richard looked up and nodded. Charles instructed one of the younger men to collect Richard's medical case from his office.

"Where do you want him, Sir?"

"The dining room table would be ideal, if that's alright with you, Mrs Carson?"

"Give me a minute, Sir, and it's yours!" said Elsie. "David, could you grab hold of those two corners of the tablecloth. I don't care if things get broken! A man's life is at stake!" They lifted the cloth and all the crockery, cutlery, and leftover food on it all at once, laying it aside in another room. Then Charlie, Richard, and David moved Anthony from the floor of the hall to the dining table. He moaned briefly as they took him up.

"That's a good sign! He's not totally out for the count!" said Richard.

Edith followed, but held back so Richard had room to work, worry drowning her eyes. Elsie returned and put her arm around Edith's shoulders.

"I don't know why, but I assumed the Ambassador was an academic doctor, not a medical one."

"He's quite unusual" Elsie replied. "Out here it's extremely useful. He'll tell us when he wants something...that is if you want to help."

"Anthony should've been my husband. He saved my life. Of course I want to help."

Richard and Charlie had begun to peel the black clothing from Anthony as gently as they could. The two men had worked together so closely and for so long that they didn't need words to communicate. The outer robe with all the pockets for Anthony's equipment came off easily, although torn in places. Edith explained their purpose; Richard raised his eyebrows in admiration, and gave the garment to the women. Elsie and Edith went through all the pockets looking for clues to what had happened, taking out a phone, odds and ends of food, the water bottle, and a piece of card, which Elsie unfolded to discover it was a photograph of Edith and Anthony standing together.

Edith's hand covered her mouth to stop the cry.

"That was taken just after our engagement."

Elsie rubbed her arm consolingly then they finished the job, returning back to the makeshift operating room. Anthony lay naked to the waist on the table. There were large bruises, and two fresh bullet wounds in his right side, as well as the old scars. Edith was taken aback by the force of her reaction to them. A sweeping rush of sympathy and pain that she struggled to contain meant that she didn't hear the discussion between Richard and Charles from the beginning.

"I'll have to, I have no choice" Richard was saying. "If I don't, he'll probably die anyway."

"What?! What do you have to do?" Edith demanded.

"He has two entry wounds but only one exit wound. None of them are life-threatening by themselves, but if I don't find and remove the bullet still in him, he may contract septicaemia, and I must treat all the wounds to make sure they don't become infected. The trouble is that, while I have an adequate supply of broad-spectrum antibiotics, I have no way of anaesthetising him while I work. And he's going into shock through loss of blood, so I must do something and quickly."

"Do what you must to give him the best chance, doctor. No one will blame you for what happens."

Richard nodded his thanks.

"The only thing I can do is to give him a local and a dose of diamorph and hope for the best."

So that was what he did, starting with the diamorphine to give it a chance to work. Elsie and Edith assisted him as he turned his attention to each of the wounds in turn. One of the bullets had shattered a rib. Richard cleaned it as best he could under the circumstances, then stitched the wound. The bullet was found after a search and removed but by that time Anthony was beginning to be restless.

"He's tough all right" commented Charles.

"He certainly is. He's trying to fight me" said Richard. "And that's good too. It means he'll fight to recover."

"He has something special to live for" said Elsie, smiling gently at Edith.

"I'm not going to be able to do this if he doesn't relax. I can't just give him more diamorph yet."

Edith went to Anthony's head and began talking to him.

"You're safe, my love. You're going to be fine. And when you are well, we'll be married no matter what my family says. I want to spend my life proving to you how much I love you, how much I owe you. All my kisses are yours, my darling. All you have to do to claim them is to get well."

As she spoke, Anthony relaxed and Richard was able to work on the last wound with ease. Once he felt satisfied that he could do no more, he put a hand on Edith's arm.

"I'm sure he'll be alright now. He just needs to rest."

"Thank you…for all you've done."

Richard smiled at her and instructed the two attachés to use a sheet as an improvised stretcher to carry Anthony up to the bedroom next to Edith's where she and Elsie made him comfortable.

"And now, we just wait" said Elsie.

"Again" Edith replied.

"Well, that's life here for you. Five minutes of drama followed by five hours of hanging around. But he will be fine, don't you worry. Richard gave him something to help him sleep, so he doesn't disturb the stitches too much. Do you want to stay with him tonight, hen?"

Edith looked up surprised. "Would you really let me?"

"Good heavens, child, this isn't the 1920s! And anyway he's hardly a threat to your virtue in his condition! I think the bed's big enough so you won't get in each other's way. You can always call us if you need us."

"Thank you" she whispered tearfully, thinking how different her sister's, mother's, or grandmother's reaction would have been. She changed in her room, and returned feeling very out of place. Anthony and she had not slept together before the failed wedding, although it felt like they couldn't keep their hands off each other during that month.

The bed was surprisingly soft. Anthony was surprisingly smelly. Nearly two weeks including several days in the desert without a wash will do that to any man. Edith didn't care. It was Anthony's scent, and she loved it. Cuddled up to his unwounded side, she whispered a thousand little endearments to him as she drifted into a much more peaceful sleep than she'd had in ages.


The sedative wore off just before dawn. Anthony assessed his surroundings and judged them safe enough. He was in a proper bed, which was a good sign since insurgents don't lay on comforts for their captives. There was a woman by his side. His heart rate shot up as he realised it was Edith. They must be at the Embassy. She had found her way here to safety.

He allowed the tiredness to catch up with him and dozed off again, but not before he had, oh so very gently, kissed her forehead.