Evey sat under the willow, she hadn’t visited it in ages and it must be confessed she missed it’s calm.
She’d thrown herself into all sorts of work after the promise Tom had elicited from her not to join the front-line services as women of her age weren’t being drafted, only volunteers. Baby factory policies or some rot like that. it didn’t mean she wouldn’t do other jobs.
She worked at her office. Did emergency service tea rounds, hospital portering when the wounded came in, raid waiting and looked in on Sonia once a week, as per Tom’s request. They shared news and a cup of tea, with all her experience of the wounded she’d rather not have received news from the fronts or yet be still long enough to worry.
Oddly enough she worried less as bombs fell than in the quiet after.
Sitting under her tree surveying the higgledy piggledy graves, she couldn’t help but feel guilty in her absence in tidying, but there had been movement. recently the place had been re allocated to serve the same function in a time of dire need. A small corner and some empty spaces were being reserved for ‘Local Lads’
There was space enough for fifteen to twenty at a push in that corner, five graves were being made ready, two men digging.
Evey approached after having a disconcerting notion.
“Can either of you help me?.” one stopped proffering her a sip of tea from a thermos.
She shook her head, with forced cheerfulness:
“Soldiers graves are they?”
A nod.
“Are they all spoken for?” The other stopped, this conversation was becoming stranger by the moment.
“How’s that, girl?”
“Do you know how I reserve a grave?”
The first man took pity on her:
“You a soldier? You’re not going to die yet miss.”
“No, you don’t understand, this graveyard is a trust, my friend and I we set it up together. If he dies, I want him here, his family I’m sure will agree.”
They understood the red tape that would prevent her from getting her way so after exchanging words together they gave her an answer that would help her in her apparent distress.
“Tell you what girl, we’ve been told to dig as many as we can, respectable like, we’ll not tell them about the spots under the willow, here’s our card, give us a call if the unhappy event takes place, we’ll find the space for you.”
Clutching the card tightly she bowed her head in thanks rushing to the willow sitting with her back to it again, patting the trunk behind her:
“You’ll have some new dead to watch over old girl.”
Clara Lucea
Missed the last instalment of We Six? Find it here: https://theiristribune.co.uk/dragons-and-jewels/
