Ten.  Nick

Nick skidded to a stop and saw Elly lying pale and motionless on the ground, blood dripping down her face. He turned to Baz and Sam, “what happened to her?” He spotted her bag lying discarded amongst the trees, its contents spilt everywhere. “You did this?” he asked, “Look, she needs help – phone an ambulance or something…”

They both stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “Leave her mate,” said Baz, “she’s not worth the trouble, it’s only a scratch anyway. Typical girl making all this fuss.”

Nick knelt down and touched her cheek and then, struggling to remember the first aid course he had done in year eight; he checked her breathing. He was relieved to feel her breath warm on the back of his hand. He turned to speak to Baz and Sam but there was no sign of them, they had run off.  “Cowards” he said in disgust, why had he ever allowed idiots like that to be his friends; was that how people saw him too? He thought before turning his attention back to Elly.

“Must stop the bleeding,” he muttered to himself, searching his pockets for a tissue but finding nothing. “I’m going to kill those two bloody idiots… Elly if you can hear me please wake up, I don’t know what to do…I haven’t got my phone with me…I can’t leave you here like this, but I don’t think I’m supposed to move you either…”

Nick lay Elly’s head gently on his lap and sat there wondering what to do, it was getting late and he was sure that someone would have missed her by now, but did anybody even know they were here. Baz and Sam knew, but he doubted that they were going to tell anyone what had happened.

The sound of someone approaching through the trees made Nick look up, the strange man he had met earlier was hobbling very slowly towards them, leaning heavily on his stick for support. He stopped and looked down at them both, “’ang on a minute, I’ve somethin’ that’ll ‘elp with that there.” He prodded around a few trees with his stick and seeming to have found what he was looking for, bent down with difficulty and picked some green, spiky leaves which he sniffed and then, using his stick, he straightened up

He took out a battered tin cup and a bottle of pale liquid from the depths of his jacket; and humming softly he proceeded to tear up the leaves and place them in the cup, next he added a few drops of the pale liquid and swished the cup around to mix it all together.

“Poultice,” he said as Nick looked at him in confusion, “best thing for bleedin’. This ‘ere is yarrow,” he pointed to the leaves he had gathered, “Achilles used it to stop ‘is-self bleedin’. And this stuff,” he shook the bottle of liquid; “is just spring water wiv a drop or two of ‘oney – antispective or sommat like that.”

“Right,” said Nick looking at the green mush with mixed feelings; “um, is it hygienic, I mean it won’t…”

“Just you trust me lad, now ‘ere we go.” He scooped some of the poultice up, squeezed out the excess water and carefully held it against the cut on Elly’s cheek. He repeated this several times until the cup was empty.

The bleeding had certainly stopped and a bit more colour had returned to Elly’s face, then to Nick’s great relief, her eyes fluttered open. “Nick…” she began.
“Don’t talk, we need to get you home; you’ve been hurt,” he said.

“I don’t know what I’d of done if you hadn’t been here,” he said to the old man, “I don’t even know your name.”

“My name? I’ve bin called many things in me time lad,” he paused and rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “I s’pose you should call me Tink, that sounds ‘bout right. Now I reckon we aught to get the lass ‘ome, I’ll give you an ‘and.”

Supporting an extremely wobbly Elly on either side, they slowly made their way out of the forest and into the lane that led to town. Coming up the lane in a clear state of distress was Elly’s Nan; Nick had never been so pleased to see someone in his life. “Thanks for your help Tink,” he said; but Tink had gone, it was just him and Elly standing at the side of the lane in the fading light.
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