Echo-Foxtrot by Clare Revell Page A

eaten since she’s been here.” Dr. Andrews refastened the bandage around Lou’s leg. “I’m done. You got off lightly, young lady. You haven’t done any damage at all.” She straightened up.
    Jack picked Lou up and set her in the chair. He tucked the blanket around her legs, then turned to Dr. Andrews. “Do you want her back in bed or can I have a few words with her first?”
    “That’s fine, Colonel. You can have all the words you want with her. Bring her back at 1530.”
    “Aye, ma’am.” Jack started to push Lou towards the main building. “First, we are having lunch.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Fine. I’m having lunch. You can watch. Then after lunch we have to talk.”
    ****
    In the mess hall Jack pushed Lou’s chair up to one of the tables. “What do you want?” he asked.
    “I told you,” Lou said slowly. “I’m not hungry.”
    Jack put the brake on. “Stay,” he ordered and headed to the counter.
    “I’m not a dog,” Lou muttered. Why did these people keep bothering? She wasn’t worth it. She knew that. Even God knew that, because He’d let her get hurt this badly in the first place.
    “Back.” Jack put a tray with two plates of breaded chicken strips, French fries, and two cans of soda on the table. He put one plate in front of Lou and the other opposite her. “For once the line wasn’t too long.”
    He put one of the forks by her plate. He sat opposite Lou and opened his can. He took a long drink and then picked up his fork. He ignored her as he began to eat. “It’s good,” he told her as he swallowed the first mouthful of food. “Try some.”
    Lou looked round the room at everyone else. They were talking and laughing, eating and drinking, having a good time with their friends and colleagues. She felt so alone, despite Jack sitting across from her. There was nothing like a crowd for making loneliness glaringly obvious.
    The smell of the chicken made her mouth water. Her stomach rumbled. She glanced at Jack. He was halfway through his lunch. She looked down at the plate in front of her. It was easier to refuse food when she was on her own. She was starving, but it meant there wouldn’t be enough for everyone else.
    “How long is it since you’ve eaten?”
    “Not since Deefer died. January 17,” Lou muttered. “There wasn’t much food and that way, it lasted the others longer. I don’t know what today is.”
    “January 24,” Jack told her. “Seven days.”
    “Is that all? Seems like a lifetime.”
    Jack picked up her fork. He stabbed the chicken and raised it to her mouth. “Open,” he said. “I will feed you if I have to do so.”
    Lou opened her mouth and Jack shoved the forkful of food inside it. Lou closed her mouth and Jack removed the fork.
    He held her gaze. “Now eat it.”
    Lou took in his determined look and obediently chewed and swallowed, managing to gag as she did so.
    “Eat or I will feed you.”
    Lou took the fork from his hand. “I’ll do it myself.”
    Jack watched as she took the first mouthful. “No one is going to run out of food here,” he said, softening his tone. “I promise, there is more than enough to go around. You can have seconds if you want.”
    She somehow finished what was in her mouth without gagging and looked at the plate. This amount of food would have had to have fed two of them, even though it was obviously a small portion. She blinked hard and stabbed at one of the fries.
    He finished eating his own, watching her eat. Then he picked up his can and drank his cola thoughtfully.
    Lou ate mechanically and very slowly. After five mouthfuls, she put down the fork down. “I’ve had enough,” she said.
    “Eat it,” Jack commanded.
    Lou scowled at him. “I’m not one of your airmen. You can’t order me to do anything. And I’m not a baby, before you suggest feeding me again.”
    “Then stop acting like one and eat your lunch. Because me feeding you like a baby is a whole lot better than the alternative the doc is