The War Years

It was a different time back then. There was no war for a start. Everything was just a game really, for all of us. We were young and care-free. We were at the centre of our universe. The whole world was our future. The whole world was ours.


It was after we left Roundview College that the war started. The British Armed Forces were elsewhere at the time, settling disputes in other countries as usual. It was very easy for the enemy really. They set off a few bombs in London. Cut off electricity supplies to a few places. Hacked a few computers. Then they invaded. It was alright really. Didn't bother us. We didn't really notice at first, in all honesty. We still had electricity for the most part and the buses were still running and the petrol stations were still supplied with petrol and diesel, the supermarkets were still bursting with food.

Still, I'd always been the cautious one. As soon as I heard what had happened in London, I was straight down to the shops, buying bottles of water and tins of food and blankets and extra underwear. The whole thing with the bombs had been too well executed to have been a terrorist attack, and no one was admitting to it. I spent pretty much all of my money, making about fifty trips backwards and forwards in Cook's van. It's a good thing I did though, because a little over a week later panic took over. The shops were suddenly running low on essentials and prices were sky high. It was official; the country was in the midst of a war.

But the troops that patrolled the streets and kept the peace weren't our own. Only a few could speak English.

For the first time since 1066, England was an occupied country. Only this time, it wasn't the French.


I remember hiding all of the food in the attic one night.

It had been announced on the radio that rationing was to be brought in and any "spare" food was to be handed in. Me and Katie and Freddie and Naomi all climbed up in to the cold space and started pushing cans and bottles and tins and jars down towards the eaves, where the roof met the floor of the attic. We piled insulation on top of our supplies and they were hidden. Every few minutes Naomi would flash a smile at me and I would be even more grateful that I'd stocked up before the panic set in.

When it was all done and we were back downstairs huddled on the couches in the living room, watching the news and the continuing reports of resisters to the occupation being severely punished as a warning to all, we made a pact to stay together throughout the war, no matter what happened. I should have seen it as a premonition of what was to come but at the time we were pleased with ourselves, chuffed that we'd managed to avoid having to hand in our precious supplies. And I was in love with Naomi.


About a week after we'd hidden our supplies in the attic and were being handed our meagre weekly rations, Naomi decided that she was going to try and leave the country.

"I'm going to Ireland, Emily. And once I'm there, I'll be able to help with the plans." She looked into my eyes as she said this, holding my hands in hers.

Everyone knew about the plans, but nobody spoke of them. To do so would be to single yourself out as a resistor and then you were in trouble. Resisters were no longer punished... They were killed. I knew that if Naomi was caught on her passage to Ireland that she would be killed. She was a civilian prisoner, just like every other person in the country.

But that stupid political mind of hers could not be swayed, no matter how I pleaded with her. No matter how loudly I screamed at her. No matter how many tears I shed.

"Don't do this to me! I need you, why can't you see that? I love you! I need you here." It was the same words I relayed to her time and again over the final week before she left, just one month after the country was invaded.

"Don't be so selfish, Emily! You think you're the only person in the world that matters, don't you? Well you're not! I matter, and everyone in this country matters. You're just a silly little girl who thinks far too much of herelf!" She had snapped finally, after days of my pleading. She was shouting. She wasn't being fair and we both knew that, but I wasn't being fair either. "I'm actually going to do something about this. But you. You are going to sit around in this pokey little house and play Land Girl while others try and even die to try and save our future. I really can't believe you, Emily Fitch. I always thought you were different from your bitch of a sister, but all along you've really been exactly the same. A selfish, spoilt little cow who's so far up herself that she can't what's directly see in front of her!"

I was stunned. Shocked into silence. She picked up her canvas bag and left that night. I didn't even say goodbye or give her a final kiss. She broke my heart and at the same time she set me free. She'd restrained me slightly, all through the relationship. It had always been her call. Every good idea had been hers. It was always her way or no way. I thought that I had been on equal terms, but that night I realised that our relationship had been a mirror of every other relationship in my life.

Goodnight, Sweetheart.


Should I leave this as a one-shot or continue it? It's been buzzing around in my head for a long time and I do have ideas for future chapters.