Ada could not believe the sight in front of her as she walked down the steps. Here, curled up on all fours like a wounded animal outside the club was the baker, Alfie Solomons. He was bleeding and reeked of petrol. The hilt of a knife jutted out of his back and she saw blood dripping down the hilt, dripping onto the ground. Immediately she bent down beside him and tried to stop the bleeding with her coat. She was no stranger to blood and physical injury. Her brothers had been in enough fights for her to become desensitized to it and to know to apply pressure to a wound. She also knew that knife embedded in his back was keeping him from dying of blood loss right then and there.
However, she wasn't desensitized to human emotion. He was in terrible pain and she could see it as he tried to rise to his feet. What frightened her was that he was displaying signs of succumbing to his wounds by resting his head down on the step, and closing his eyes. She couldn't let him die at her feet. She slapped him. People were staring, being unhelpful and the goddamn ambulance wasn't arriving fast enough.
"Alfie," she said, trying to call him back. "Alfie, you need to stay awake."
"Alright angel," he muttered.
"Ada," she said, knowing he was clearly light-headed and disoriented from blood loss and remembering she had never told him her name during their first meeting. "My name's Ada. It's nice to see you again."
"I'm sorry," he said. "Not the best.. circumstances."
"It's alright." She dabbed a cut under his left eye with the scarf and wiped the blood of his nose. He grimaced.
"It's ruined.. your coat…scarf."
"It's not important."
It's only clothing. She changed subjects.
"Karl enjoyed the bread. He said it was the best bread he ever tasted."
I told the sitter I would be home soon.
A smile formed on his face and she saw blood in his teeth.
"Did he now? That's nice of the little fellow." His eyes closed again and he sagged against her as all his strength left him. She did her best to hold him upright.
"Alfie."
He was muttering what sounded like an apology.
"Stop it, Alfie stop apologizing."
She hated this. She looked down the street, praying that she would hear the sirens, see the truck rounding the corner. He needed a hospital. He was shaking against her from the cold, from blood loss, from sheer pain. On an impulse she reached up and ran her hand through his hair, trying to calm him down.
"Ssh," she said, rubbing his upper back. "Ssh. You're going to be fine."
The smell of petrol was overpowering. It was all over his clothes, in his hair…
Someone tried to burn him alive.
That thought made her blood run cold. Who would do something like that? Who would pour petrol on a man and stab him with what looked like a large butcher knife?
People in Tommy's world. She wasn't naive. People were capable of anything, she'd been threatened enough times to know that, but why do this to a baker?
He swore loudly then groaned.
" I'm sorry Ada…."
"Ssh." She'd heard foul language growing up, living with four brothers and Polly who was the worst of all of them. In addition, he had every reason to be cursing right now.
"I ruined your night."
Where is that ambulance?
" No more apologies. I forbid you."
He laughed at that, which came out sounding more like a gasp.
"I mean it," she said. My feelings are the last thing you should be thinking about right now. You're going to go to the hospital and get better and keep running your bakery. Alright? Can you promise me that?"
"Mhmm."
She was losing him again. His eyes were rolling back in his head.
"Alfie!"
His face went slack and he fell against her.
"Alfie. Alfie wake up!" She couldn't hold back the fear in her voice. She patted his face, which was completely milk-white, blood staining her hands. Her heart leapt in her chest at the sound of a siren finally approaching her. She looked up and saw the ambulance. They parked the vehicle and two paramedics came out the back of the vehicle with a stretcher. They rushed towards Ada and quickly lifted Alfie up, looking him over, and placing him face down on the stretcher.
"Are you hurt miss?" they asked.
"No," Ada said. "No, It's only him." She looked down at the stretcher, at Alfie lying helpless on the white sheet, his blood staining it red.
"Are you sure?" they asked and it dawned on Ada that she was covered in his blood, that she looked like she was gravely injured.
"Yes, I'm fine,"she said. "Just… make sure he's alright, Please."
She didn't want him to die. She didn't want a man she had promised would be alright, to die.
"He's bleeding heavily," she said. "Someone attacked him. He needs medical attention RIGHT NOW."
She was suddenly angry, angry that this had happened, that he could die and that they were late. She was angry at those useless gawking club goers who were still standing around while a man was trying not to die in her arms.
Get him out of here.
They told her which hospital they were taking him to and whisked the stretcher away. They piled into the back of the ambulance, leaving her standing alone, shivering in the cold night air. She looked down at her blood stained coat and scarf, crumpled in a heap on the step. She had no desire to pick either item of clothing up. She closed her eyes, feeling sick, then opened them again when she had collected herself.
I have to go home. I have to go home to Karl. I have to go home and wash up and read him a story.
She turned, trying to remember where she had parked her car and saw it by one of the parking meters not far away. She ignored everyone around her, strangers who were completely useless in a time of crisis.
Not that I did much good.
What if he died on the way to hospital? What if he died in the hospital alone?
I can't think about that right now. I have to get home to my son. I have to go home.
She felt guilty then, guilty because the thought crossed her mind that she should go to the hospital tonight and stay by his side instead of leaving him alone, and then even more guilty when she realized she could not leave her son home alone all night for someone who was practically a stranger. She wouldn't do either one any good. Alfie would be unconscious and unaware of her presence and her son would wonder where she was. She already felt guilty for spending a few hours at that party, for wanting to go out and enjoy herself.
I' will go home to my son.
I will visit Alfie tomorrow. He is going to be fine. The doctors will take care of him.
They couldn't take care of Freddie.
Ada felt her face tremble and tears rise unbidden in her eyes as she sat down in the front seat of her car, as the events of the night caught up with her, Alfie, lying helpless on the ground, the smell of petrol that she could not get out of her nostrils, all that blood.
Stop it.
She jammed the key into the ignition, driving the thoughts away from her mind and focusing solely on getting home.