BARBARA

Tommy's weight began to crush her, but in case he was still alive, she was too scared to move. His body pinned her upper arms, but she continued to stretch her fingers to hold the hilt of the knife against his wound. She tried to focus on whether his chest was moving, whether he was breathing. It was impossible to tell. Any movement might be from her.

His head was next to her cheek, but Tommy's face had fallen away from her. The errant lock of hair that usually fell across his eye was lying across her cheek and tickled her nose. She turned her head slowly and grabbed some hair between her teeth. It smelt of him, of rain, of sweat. She ran her tongue over the strands. They were salty and tasted of shampoo. She tried to kiss his cheek but could not reach.

"I love you, Tommy."

"Sergeant Havers?" A hand ripped Tommy's hair from her lips. A torch flashed in her eyes. She blinked. A man knelt over her feeling around her skull and shoulders. Someone else was prying her hands from the knife. She tightened her grip, feeling the blade cut deeper into her flesh.

"Let go, Sergeant. We need to assess your colleague's wounds." The kneeling man turned his head away. "We need to get her out," he yelled.

"No, I'm fine. Help Tom... the Inspector."

"Let go of the knife, Sarge. We're going to pull you out so we can treat him. "

"Is he alive?"

"Barely." Fingers peeled hers back. Hearing he was alive she let go. The paramedic tumbled backwards off his heels and cursed under his breath. Barbara noticed water on her face. The man swore again. He turned away from her. "It's raining. I need cover. Now."

Hairy hands were an inch from her face gently lifting Tommy. Someone else was moving around at his ankles. She saw one of Tommy's good Italian leather shoes tossed over the wall. The black silk sock landed on the top and hung like a limp flag.

Tommy groaned, and Barbara smiled. "Hang on, Sir. You're going to be okay." She had nothing tangible to back up her claim, but if it were her, she would want to hear that.

People rushed everywhere but time seemed to stand still. She heard Winston issuing orders to local officers. He also talked to someone on his mobile. She caught words. Shot. Havers. Lynley. Stabbed. Critical. Life-threatening. Dead.

Dead? Who was dead? She tried to move. The hairy-handed paramedic gently pushed her down. "Stay calm."

"Who's dead?" she demanded.

"The gunman. He was shot. Your colleague is still hanging in. Now we are going to lift you out. Just stay still."

She felt Tommy's legs moving to the right. Strong hands looped under her shoulders and began to pull. She shrieked as pain tore through her right side.

Her swearing paramedic waved his hands above her face. "Stop!"

For a moment the only sound was Tommy whimpering. Hands tenderly lifted him and fingers tentatively explored between his body and her side. Every touch was like being poked with a white-hot spear. Barbara threw her head back and screamed.

"The knife went through him. It's gone about an inch into the female and moving her has opened the wound further."

"We have to separate them." Another voice, deeper with more authority, began to issue instructions. "Give them Fentanyl and IV fluids. If he goes into shock, we might lose him. And don't remove that knife. Pack his back to keep it in place."

Her arm was yanked up. A gloved hand took hers and wiped the back. It felt cold on her skin. Her hand stung as a needle was inserted. She grimaced but then began to feel floaty.

Hairy Hands looked down. "Sarge, the knife went deeper than we thought. It's also stabbed you. We've given you something for the pain."

"Mmm." Barbara started to lose touch with her body. She felt numb. She struggled to keep her eyes open. "Tommy. Just save Tom..." A mask went over her mouth and nose, and she drifted to sleep.

TOMMY

"I love you, Tommy."

Barbara loved him. He tried to answer, but no words came. His hand was too heavy to lift and find hers to hold. Loving arms were holding him tight, and he nestled back against her. Her breath tickled his neck. One day when they were married, they would take turns to lie just like this, cradling each other and soothing their fears. But on a bed, on their sides. This concrete was killing his back.

Strangers pummelled him. He grumbled as they removed his shoes. Someone pricked him on the inside of his left ankle. Heat travelled up his leg, reaching his stomach and warming it. A mask was strapped to his face. The elastic caught his hair and pinched as they pulled it free. Cool oxygen filled his lungs, mingling with the heat.

Men were talking. Maybe to him, but it did not seem that way.

"Is he alive?"

Yes, Barbara.

"Barely."

Idiot. I. Am. Alive!

Barbara's hands moved away. He tried to object, but his limbs still would not budge. All he could do was groan.

"Hang on, Sir. You're going to be okay." Barbara's voice was encouraging. She would never lie to him.

Tommy, call me Tommy. He would remind her again when he woke. Now he was tired. Very tired.

He jerked awake when Barbara screamed. He tried to remember where he was. Gunman. Williams. Stabbed. Indistinct images flashed through his mind. Paramedics. Pain.

"Tommy. Just save Tom..."

Tom? No one ever called him that. Barbara could if she preferred. Barbara. Barbara loves me. He sighed.

BARBARA

Her grip on reality was tenuous. Was it real? A dream? Something else in between both? She reached out her hand. "Tommy?"

"She's coming around. Do you want me to give her more Fentanyl?"

"Not yet. Barbara? Barbara, can you hear me?"

"Hairy Hands?"

"Pardon?"

Barbara ignored him. "Where's Tommy?"

"He went in the first ambulance? We're in the second. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"No. I need to see Tommy." She tried to sit up. Soft hands stopped her and helped her back down. Pain shot through her abdomen. "I've been shot?"

"No. It's a knife wound. It's not serious."

"Stabbed...? But Tommy was on top of me."

"It was a long hunting knife. It went through your partner and into you. Now stay calm for us, Barbara."

TOMMY

He woke with a fright. "Barbara! I want to see Barbara."

"His BP is dropping again." It was a male voice. "Get more saline and dobutamine into him."

"Where's Barbara?"

A nurse in light blue scrubs pulled down her mask and took his hand. "She's in Emergency, Lord Asherton. We're prepping you for surgery."

He felt the same warmth creeping up his leg. "Bar...ba..."

"You'll see her soon. Just relax."

BARBARA

Barbara woke slowly. Monitors beeped to her left. One started to hum louder as she moved. Her right arm was weighed down. A cuff squeezed her bicep as it inflated. A peg pinched her finger. The back of her hand had a tube running up to a bag on a pole above her. Red. Blood. Why did she need blood?

When she tried to move, she remembered. She had been hurt. Tommy had been stabbed. "Sir?"

"Barbara! You're awake."

"Winston? Where's the DI? Why are you here?"

"I offered to stay with you." Her other hand was lifted and encased by Winston's massive hands. They were warm and comforting, but she wanted to see Tommy.

"The DI?" she insisted.

"Still in surgery. He was stabbed twice. The first one went through his liver and the second nearly cut his aorta. It was good that you held it in place, Barbara. You saved his life."

"Will he...?"

"We are all praying for him." Winston started to pat her hand. It was annoying, so she snatched her hand back.

TOMMY

"We had to resect his liver. We would normally only do that with a tumour, but the left lobe was partially shredded by the serrations. His liver is not the best, but there's no cirrhosis so it will regenerate within a few months."

Liver resection? He tried to move but was unable. Barbara! How's Barbara?

"And the other wounds?"

Mother? Why was... oh, yes. Makes sense. Barbara? Ask about Barbara damn you.

"The knife missed his aorta by less than a quarter of an inch. His partner did well holding the knife the way she did. Otherwise, he would have almost certainly bled to death before we could operate."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'm going to find Barbara as soon as Tommy is stable and thank her. She's probably waiting with his other colleagues."

"Ms Havers? We operated on her too. The knife punctured her abdomen and your son's blood leaked into her peritoneal cavity. We cleaned that out to avoid any immune reaction or infection. She had other injuries and scarring too, so we had to be thorough."

No! Will she be okay?

"I didn't know," his mother said. "I will see if she is okay. If she needs any treatment, I'll be happy to pay."

"She's been taken to the NHS surgical ward. Her wallet lists your son as her next-of-kin, so we are unsure about any other family."

"Barbara's not married. Her parents are deceased I believe, so... it... Tommy probably is her next-of-kin. He would want Barbara to be moved to the private wards too. We will be happy to pay. It's the least I can do for her saving my son's life."

"I will arrange for her to be moved. Now try not to worry, Lady Asherton. We will keep your son in ICU until he is stable. His blood pressure keeps going up an down. I think we should put him into an induced coma for a few days. After that, we can transfer him into the private wards. He will be with us for at least ten days."

"Do whatever you have to do, Doctor. "

No! I want to see Barbara first.

"Is there any other family? A wife perhaps? We will need permission from his next-of-kin."

"No. His wife died 18 months ago. I am his next-of-kin."

"Then If you would sign here please." Tommy heard rustling and then the world slowly faded to black.

BARBARA

It was three days before Barbara was allowed to visit Tommy. He was still in his induced coma, but his wounds were healing, and they had moved him into a ward on her floor. The nurse helped her from the bed onto the wheelchair. "I could walk."

The nurse checked the corridor before pushing her chair out the door. "No, this way I can leave you alone for ten minutes. No more mind or Sister will string my guts up and use them for her washing line."

Barbara smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I saw all about it on the news. You saved his life. They are talking about some award for you."

"Me?"

"Yes, some police thing I think. Anyway, here we are. He's some sort of toff, too, they said, and not married. He's not a bad looker for an older man. If I didn't have my George, well, I could put my slippers under his bed."

Barbara shook her head. Even unconscious he attracted women. "Many women feel that way."

"He's not... is he?"

"No! Certainly not." Barbara was tempted to say he had proposed to her, but she did not want that spread around the nurses in case Tommy or his mother heard. It was a moment she would treasure, even if he had thought she was someone else.

"Okay, love. Ten minutes."

The nurse wheeled her through the door. Tommy looked peaceful. Monitors were hooked up to him, and his face was distorted by the breathing tube, but the nurse was right, he was still handsome. The nurse parked her chair beside the bed on the side where his arm was unencumbered by tubes or monitors. Barbara reached out and took his hand. She had ten minutes to love him; then she had to revert to just being his friend.