After Dunkirk [Discontinued]

Three ~ Warmth

"And this is my sister's room. She's probably over at Susan's; that's her best friend. I wish she were here right now though. I want to give her a big ol' hug," Tommy's voice cracks and he nervously laughs it off. He rubs his hands over his face, letting out a heavy breath before walking down the hallway and I follow him. "And this used to be my brother Virgil's room. I told you about him. He's the oldest and married now."

"Yeah, I remember," I say, looking around the small bedroom. It has a twin bed neatly made with a quilt, a sewing machine in the corner and a window decorated with blue curtains. "It's nice, but don't ask me to sew cos I don't know how."

"Oh, you're funny," he laughs at my joke and I have to admit that it was one of my better ones. "Okay, lemme show you the loo and I'll get you some of my pop's clothes."

"I dunno about that," I hesitantly say and he turns around to look at me. "I don't think your mum will approve."

"First of all, my clothes won't fit you, Jolly Green Giant, and second, I know my mum won't approve of you sitting on her sofa in your dirty uniform," he says and I nod in agreement. "Okay, so the loo is right over there. I'll let you have a shower first, just please don't use all the hot water," he chuckles and I promise him that I won't. "Alright, I'll be right back."

I turn on the light in the spacious area and it's like I can't wash my hands fast enough. I grab the bar of soap from the holder and create a sudsy lather, noticing that the water running down the drain is black.

Oh for fuck's sake.

I set the soap back in the holder and rinse my hands before turning off the faucet. I don't want to use Mrs. Hughes' nice towel with flowers on it since my hands are still somewhat black, so I dry them on my uniform.

And I remember.

I hurriedly unbutton my shirt and reach inside the breast pocket, sighing when I feel the crinkled material. I take it out before shrugging off my shirt and I smile at the black and white photograph.

Hi, darling.

"Here you go," Tommy says and I quickly tuck the photograph under my shirt on the countertop. "I got you a shirt, trousers, uhm, suspenders in case they're loose, socks, penny loafers and undergarments for now. If they fit, I'll get you some more clothes later and if they don't, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"M'kay. Thank you and I won't be long, I promise."

He nods with a smile and I shut the door, immediately looking around for a place to hang the clothes. There isn't a hook, so I set them on the countertop and I finish undressing.

As I take off my identity disk necklace, I'm taken aback at my reflection in the mirror. My ribs are protruding from lack of nourishment and dirt mixed with dried blood is caked all over my body and covering most of my tattoos.

Christ, I'm a sight for sore eyes.

Shaking my head in disgust, I turn around and flip on the bathtub faucet. The freezing water pelts onto my palm and I close my eyes, reliving the many times that I was under water.

I shake my head at the thought, willing myself to stay calm and I feel the water start to warm up. As I step into the bathtub, I tell myself that I'm okay and I pull the curtain closed.

The warmth and steam surround my shivering body and soothes my aching muscles. I have no bloody clue when the last shower I took was, but this feels like Heaven.

My eyes shoot open when I remember what Tommy said about the hot water and I look around for shampoo and soap. The only choice I have is strawberry-scented shampoo and a soap-on-a-rope, but I'm not complaining.