The girl with no name, chapter 5.

"Hálwen." The old man stroked the broken young woman over the head.

She looked up at him. Tears streaming over her cheeks.

"Why does it hurt so much, grandpa?"

"Oh child, I wish I could make this more bearable for you.....I tried."

The grandfather focussed from his granddaughter's profile to the sculpture of the girl, made out of stone.

"...I tried." He sighed. Knowing how he failed by hiding the past from her and trying to keep away everything that could trigger that painful, dreadful memory of that traumatic experience years ago.

"I have so much feelings, so much emotions, colours, images. I don't know what is real and what isn't....grandpa? What is my name?"

"Your name is Hálwen, my dear. Your mother gave you that name."

"Then why do you call me Raindis, William?" Falling back to the way she had called her grandfather these last years. Before she got back a glimpse of her memory.

"I'm sorry, dear. When...some years ago...you were not well, in fact you almost died..." He gently touched the scar on her chest.
"...and you mumbled things on your sick bed....I made a story around the things you mumbled. You were lost, you were lost and you seemed bound to some man....and I did not know that man...he might have been....he might not have....survived."
The old man shakes his head. Knowing he should not mention the horrible event.
"....and there was so much passion and despair in you. So I thought of you as a lost bride. I tried to make things poetic. You were a wandering, erratic bride; Raindis.

When I tried to call you by your real name....Hálwen....you would become distressed...you would hurt yourself, faint, become hysterical. So I stepped away from that name.

And then you became calmer...your wounds were healed. Your memory was lost....but so was the distress and pain.

Unfortunately you were but a shadow of yourself."

"Marbh." Hálwen whispered. "I called myself Marbh."

"Dead." The old man wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye.

"You called yourself dead...and so you were, in a way...until I he came into our life."

"Who is he, grandpa?"

"You tell me, child...you tell me who this Edward is."

"He..."

Suddenly she jumped up.

"Grandpa, we need to find him! Fedja has hurt him real bad!"

She grabbed her head while an extreme pain in her scull seemed to cloud her mind.

"We were at the other side of the lake, William. We have to find him." She cried out.

The dusk was falling rapidly and the old man and the young woman had not found a trace of the small sailing boat. At the other side of the lake they had seen tracks of the boat being pushed back adrift, also prints of a struggle in the sand, blood, someone being dragged.

Hálwen had gotten almost hysterical when she saw them, but her grandfather had calmed her.

"We'll find him, dear...we'll find him."

But he wasn't so confident himself. Cursing the fact that he had let this Fedja Robson and his cousin Miles so deep into their lives.

"William." The young woman suddenly cried out. "What's that?"

The old man turned the speedboat into the direction she had pointed.
In a creek filled with lily pads and reeds they could see the faint shape of something white, a large object.

"I have to stop the engine and lift the motor, because it might get tangled it the water plants. Take the paddle, Hálwen, so we can get closer."

Slowly they approached the object.

It was the Wayfarer. Capsized.

"Eddie." Hálwen exclaimed, jumping out of the boat. Heedless of the cold and the fact she was wearing her clothes.

The mast hadn't sunken into the murky water; the sail was floating on the lily pads and was held stable. But the boat was a mess of tangled rope, a broken tiller and the shape of a man partly hanging over the boom - partly in the water.

His almost naked body was cold from the chilly water. With difficulty she could free him from the ropes. His beautiful face was as white as the sail and the wet curly hair pasted against his cheeks.

"Eddie...Eddie..." She whispered in tears, trying to keep him afloat.
With the help of her grandfather she got him on board of the speedboat.
She touched his swollen face, his bruised chest, looking for signs of life.

A sob of relieve escaped her when she heard his irregular, almost inaudible, breathing.

"Quick." Her grandfather handed her a blanket. "Put this around him...around the both of you. He's probably almost hypothermic. You must try to keep him warm with your body heat."

He paddled the boat out of the creek and started the motor.

"It will be alright....it will be alright...." She kept repeating with her lips against his ear. Shivering.
Touching his ice cold body. Drying him with a beach towel.

Back on land the old man and the young woman dragged Edward between them to the boathouse. They put him into the bed, found extra blankets and stoked the wood stove real high.

"This might sound awkward, dear, but you have to undress yourself and get under the sheets with him." William said while he was rubbing Edward's chest.

"But..."

"Do it.... No time to be a prude." He raised his voice and followed in a quieter tone:

"It's and old trick we used against hypothermia. Your body heat is what will get him warm. Meanwhile I'll get Miles's stuff to find something to make him pull through."

"Is it serious, grandpa?"

"He looks strong, Hálwen." But he had a severe look on his face when he left the boathouse and rushed to the main house.

Hálwen took of her still wet clothes and dried herself before she slipped under the blankets. She put her arms around his neck and shoulders and moved her nakedness against his almost marble skin.

Both the cold and the tension made her teeth shatter. She kept moving over his body to keep him warm, as well as herself. And slowly his skin started to glow and his breathing went deeper, more regular.

The warmth of the room started to make her groggy. At one point she almost fell asleep until she woke up because her grandfather came in.

Mumbling he gave something to Eddie, took his temperature and nodded reassuring at her.

"Good." He said.

"Stay like this till he wakes up. The steroid I gave him will do the trick, I think it will be alright."

Now and then violent shivers went trough Eddie's body. He was dreaming. Vivid and terrifying. He was drowning. Drowning while he heard people screaming and wailing. He heard the whistling of guns and the muffled sounds of impact. He dreamt he was immobile. He wanted to go to her, but he could not move. He screamed her name, but could not make a sound. He saw her collapse, again and again. And he kept on drowning, but then swirling waves pushed him up....tender...warmth...but he felt pain...

With a grunt he suddenly breathed out.

Wild eyed he looked around him. He did not recognize where he was at first and his body hurt like hell.

But then he became aware of the small being, curled up against him. Her legs entwined with his. Clinging to him. Like a little animal.

Softly he stroked her cheek as her head was resting on his shoulder.

"Hi...flatmate..." He whispered, a broad smile on his lovely - but bruised - lips.