Evey shivered on the station bench in the gloom waiting for Tom, he did seem striking in his uniform as he approached. Evey moved up on the bench allowing him to sit by her side.
“So, it is happening then.”
He nodded absently fixing his buttons. She stared intently at a tiny patch of grass growing up between the flagstones and the empty track.
“Wouldn’t you have preferred Sonia or your parents to see you off?” Tom looked at his friend, trying to put a brave face to it all.
“You are my family; Sonia would make me want to not go.”
She laughed. “Whereas I’m so terrifying it makes you want to run from me straight into battle, a fine compliment.” And there in that instant his friend had done precisely what he needed her to do with humour she’d broken the fearful seal on his heart.
“No, I knew you’d make me laugh, I don’t suppose it’s at all possible I will get a seat on the next waggon in.” Evey took her cue from him, to provide something light to take with him.
“No, you might get a chance to sit on a soldier’s knee, I know I’d take the opportunity, you’d make Sonia rather jealous.”
He pushed her away from him then pulled her in to a one-armed embrace kissing the top of her head.
“Evey.” She looked up in answer. Evey will you keep an eye on them and our little churchyard?”
She nodded
“I have one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You stop calling me the Parkhurst bride and…”
He interrupted her. “You said one condition.”
She stuck her tongue out like a petulant child. “You’ve asked me to look after over a hundred people, I’m entitled to a few demands.”
Tom tousled her hair ignoring her protesting hands. “Yes, but most of them are dead so it’s not exactly difficult to look after them”
“Anyway, my other demand is that you come back.”
“That seems fair.”
She placed her head on his shoulders trying to ignore the faint rat-a-tat-tat of the distant train approaching the sleepy station. It was no good it seemed like a looming spectre approaching with the sound of unbroken anxious dreams calling another generation away from their homes.
She stood up, her best friend was leaving, and though she had elicited the promise of return from him, it didn’t mean he would and she felt all the weight of responsibility of his potential last memory of home. At that sleepy station untouched by the looming war, what could she say? Possibly the same as many others the country over.
“Goodbye Tom.” She said as the train pulled up to the platform.
Evey picked his bag up and placed it into the hands.
“Make us proud and make sure you return, we’ll miss you.” She placed her arms around his waist, keeping her tear-filled eyes away from his gaze, his memory of home was not going to involve tears.
“Have fun and if you see a dashing officer, send him my way.”
Tom nearly choked with laughter, Evey’s humour always came through.
“Yes, I’ll mail him first class.”
He got on the train.
“Don’t worry, we’ll all have a picnic by the green willow when it’s over, I promise.”
She smiled as the doors closed and the train pulled away, leaving her stood alone on the platform in the last scrap of daylight.
Clara Lucea
Missed the last instalment of We Six? Find it here: https://theiristribune.co.uk/we-six-a-lullaby/
