The genius of the Chronicles of Narnia belongs not to me but to C S Lewis

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Helen Pevensie waited anxiously for the 3:10 train to arrive from the country. The crowd bustled around her tightly; anxiousness was turning into anger as one mother pushed in front of another. Helen sighed wearily and cast her eyes away. Hadn't they had enough of fighting?

The war was finally over.

The men were returning home and that meant that so were the children. Mr Pevensie had not yet contacted home, but Helen still hoped for word any day now.

However, right now, she was focused on receiving her children. Several letters had been exchanged, but even seeing their alternately neat and scribbled handwriting did nothing to stop the anxious gnawing inside of her stomach.

With a mass of billowing smoke and loud clanging, the train chugged to a stop. Frantically parents pushed at each other, trying to get to the opening doors. The noise in the station suddenly soared to unimaginable heights as mothers screamed their children's names, children cried out with joy and station masters tried to keep the calm. Helen was jostled to and fro by mothers who had caught sight of their children and were racing towards them, tears and often makeup streaming down their faces.

Anxiously, her heart beating heavily in her ears, Helen scanned the train's length, trying to spot the shining blonde hair of her eldest son over the masses. She knew without a doubt that wherever Peter was, the other three would be near. He would not let them out of his sight.

He had promised her.

Such a solemn and large promise for her little boy, but he had gazed determinedly into her eyes and he had promised.

And suddenly, there he was. Peter stepped out of the train's doors and raised his eyes to scan the crowd. He didn't see her, but she definitely saw him. Most of the crowd noticed him. How could they not, when he exuded such a commanding presence? Helen could not pin point what it was exactly. The tilt of his head or the set of his shoulders? But grown men made way for him and one woman even bobbed her head courteously as she passed him.

Peter turned and grabbed a little figure all rugged up in a grey coat that was slightly too big for her. Lucy laughed gaily, tossing her golden hair as she was lifted onto Peter's back in order for her not to be lost in the crowd. Peter smiled and as Helen watched, aware that tears were now trickling down her cheeks, he said something to his little sister to which she scowled in mock anger and swatted his shoulder.

Lucy was at once, both very small and very big. She, like Peter had something about her which made other children and families around them take a second glance at her face. Was it the excited smile which was permanent on her lips? Was it her glittering eyes which glowed with what could only be described as a secret? Helen found her own lips tilting upwards as she gazed upon her darling baby, simply because Lucy inspired joy.

Peter moved so that he cleared a small space in the crowd and extended a gallant hand to the train door, where a tall, beautiful, young lady had appeared. Helen knew that eyes from all around the station were riveted on the gorgeous woman who gracefully accepted her brother's hand and lowered herself to the ground.

A year ago, her little Susie was a lanky, slightly, freckled little girl who shied from public attention and relied heavily on her brother to shield her from others gazes. Now Susan stood proudly, her head held high, clear eyes meeting curious gazes around her steadily. But for all her beauty, there was a sharp intelligence and gentle knowledge which surrounded her. She smiled at Peter, releasing his hand and reached up to fix Lucy's wayward hair.

Peter leaned so that his head stuck back into the train compartment. He called to someone smartly, making Lucy giggle and Susan regard him with a chastising frown which was laced with fondness.

A young boy appeared and stopped in the doorway. He was as dark as his older sister in looks, his black hair falling over one eye. With a slight toss of his head, the hair was thrown back and Edmund's smiling face was revealed to his mother. He jumped from the train, hitting his brother softly with a suitcase as he passed. Peter grinned and reached out a hand to ruffle his younger brother's hair. Half expecting Edmund to turn around and yell at his older brother as he had time and time before, Helen was astounded when Edmund merely grinned up at his brother and nudged him affectionately with his shoulder.

Peter picked up his and Lucy's suitcases, Lucy still clinging to his back, and Helen watched Edmund pry his older sister's case from her fingers, refusing to let her carry the thing herself.

Suddenly, over the crowd, Peter's eyes met his mothers.

Helen felt the air leave her lungs as the full power of his gaze landed on her. Peter grinned, his eyes crinkling as he nodded in her direction to his siblings. Helen felt her tears renew as her children began to hastily make their way to her. Lucy was practically bouncing on Peter's back and Helen mused at the patience he showed his younger sister.

"Hello MUM!" Peter cried over the noise.

Lucy waved enthusiastically, wriggling so much that Peter let her slide from his back. Helen lost sight of the small girl and briefly panicked, even though Peter's face remained relaxed and Susan was smiling. The crowd heaved and through a tiny gap between a suitcase and a young lady's leg, appeared Lucy.

"Mother!" She cried delightedly and threw her little self straight into her mother's open arms. "Oh, mother, I haven't seen you in an age!"

Her voice sounded strange, young tones mixing with a strange resonance and inflection that was not how Helen recalled her daughter's speech patterns. But it mattered not and besides, Helen could not say anything, her throat stuck and so she merely clung to her youngest. Then Susan was there, tears sparkling in her diamond eyes as she slipped her arms around her mother's shoulders.

"Oh Mum" said the gentle voice in her right ear, heavy with tears.

Large warm arms engulfed them all as Peter caught up to his siblings and wrapped them all in his embrace. Helen felt her heart soar as she breathed deeply, taking in her son's scent. My how he had grown, she looked up into his eyes.

"Missed you," was his low earnest whisper.

As content as Helen was, she was missing one other. Gently she disengaged her daughters and eldest son and they parted with small smiles to let Edmund approach his mother. He set down the cases he was holding and shyly bobbed his head, peering at her through the dark strands of hair which hung over his face.

Helen felt her heart break at his hesitance, but she herself did not know how to approach him. When she had last seen his angry and confused face, she had tried to kiss him farewell, but he had angrily denied her touch.

Edmund cleared his throat, his eyes flickering briefly to his older brother, who nodded gently. Edmund returned his gaze to her, his eyes bright, hands trembling slightly. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

With a sob, she closed the distance between them and clasped her little boy to her chest. He allowed her to cover him with tears and kisses and slowly snaked his arms around her back to squeeze her reassuringly.

"Love you," he said into her ear.

Around her, his siblings were re-entering the family hug. Helen gazed at her children's faces rapturously, taking in each difference, each similarity.

They had all changed. Who hadn't in this war. But remarkably, they did not seem damaged. They had left her, strained, angry and separate. But they had returned, strong, healthy and in tune with each other.

Helen sent a heart-felt thanks to the heavens and closed her eyes, revelling in her children.