‘The less I tell you, the safer you will be,’ she said, and there was a tremble in her voice. ‘Please, let us tend to his injuries. I have only basic training – field dressings, tourniquets, checking for concussions, stemming bleeding. I can stitch, but I would need a cleaner place than this if I were to not do more harm than good.’ She let go of John’s hand and unfastened her coat to access the inside pocket. She was plumper than I expected her to be, her frame all curves and softness. She wore a stained shirt beneath the jacket and I could make out three or four different beaded necklaces dangling at her neck. From inside her jacket she retrieved a little purse, its front decorated with beads. She crossed herself and retrieved a rosary from inside the purse, crossing herself again and slipping it over her neck. I didn’t know what to do or say so I just sat there until my legs got sore and I had to pull myself up or fall down.

‘Water. Iodine. Bandages and clips.’ Sera didn’t raise her voice very much but whoever was listening beyond the door had clearly heard as a moment later we made out the thud of footsteps moving away.

I leaned back against the wall. I didn’t know how to stop shivering. I was wet through and could feel the chill all the way to the meat inside my bones. I put my hands in my pockets just to keep them warm.

I watched as Sera lowered John down to the floor. Saw her put her hand on his brow and whisper something in a foreign language followed by a soft ‘Amen’.

I hadn’t said a word to God since he’d taken our James. But suddenly it felt as if there was something in that room that might look softly upon me if I could swallow my pride and ask for help.

I didn’t have the tongue for prayer. Not properly. Couldn’t remember psalms or sermons. But if God was anywhere, it seemed he was in that strange young woman with the soft eyes and rough hands. So I directed my prayers to her.

‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘He’s good, I swear. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this; he’s never hurt anyone.’

By the morning, he would have made a liar of me.

CORDELIA