"Here, Tommy"
He looked up, cig hanging from his mouth, half frozen hands stilling where they lay on his gun. He was bored to death and cleaning it for the third time today, sat in an alcove buried into the side of the trench.
"What is it, Frank?"
"Letter for you"
He scowled, holding his hand out for the paper.
"Already had mine today"
"It's off my sister"
"What?"
Frank laughed, dropping into his own burrow opposite and scanning his own letter.
"She wanted to say thank you 'to that Tommy guy' for, and I quote 'saving my absolute idiot of a brother from his own stupidity'. So…I think she misses me"
They huffed a laugh to each other, pulling their feet in as men trundled past.
Tommy unfolded the sheet and pulled his cig from his mouth, spilling the smoke out into the frigid air.
Dear Tommy,
I begin by apologising for not addressing you properly but I couldn't find your last name in any of Frank's letter. You know my brother as I do, and so we both understand this is typical of him.
I felt the need to send a few lines to show my gratitude to the man who I have come to find saved my brother's life recently. I am truly thankful for your actions and ask that you do your best to protect him again in future if needed, at no extra harm to yourself. We both know my brother, and so the chances are high.
"She talking about me?"
"Yes, she is Frank"
"She saying I'm an idiot?"
"She's being very polite about it but yes, I believe that's her intention"
Frank says the weather if frightful there and I don't know if I offer much comfort by telling you it's as shocking at home. I'm busy knitting some bits to send your way and so if there is anything I can add to the package as a thank you, please let me know. You can pass the note to Frank, he'll see I get it.
I don't know if you are a religious man, but I'll pray for you all the same. You and all the men. I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are at least getting some sleep.
He twirled the cig around in his fingers once he finished the letter, eyes scanning over the swoops and swirls.
"Got a pen?"
Frank looked up, over his letter. Tommy pinched the letter between the fingers holding his cig and reached his other out.
"Have I got a pen?"
"Yeah"
He stared back at him, unblinking.
"Frank, have you got one or not?"
"Why d'ya need a pen?"
Tommy sighed, took a drag while trying to avoid sticking himself in the eye with the corner of the paper, and then spoke in as serious a tone as he could muster.
"What I'm going to do is…I'm going to throw it over the top. And I think it might be enough to scare the Germans off for good. What do you think, Frank? Do you think I might have just turned the tide or no?"
He rolled his eyes, dipped in hand in his jacket pocket, and threw a pen over at him.
"You'll only encourage her"
He tilted his head in a 'yeah, well' nod and flicked the page over and then back again.
"You got any paper?"
Frank developed a special expression, and a matching tone of voice, that he only used when he was thrusting a paper in Tommy's face and uttering the now common words.
"Letter from my sister for you"
Tommy had developed a special smile, and a matching tone of voice, that he only used when he was pinching the letter between his fingers and uttering the now common words.
"Thank you for passing it on"
"She could just send it direct to you now, it's been months"
"She likes winding you up" Tommy argued.
"She's 500 miles away and she still won't bloody stop" Frank complained, leaning back against the wall.
"Well, that's little sisters for you"
"Your sister doesn't write to me"
"No she does not, Frank"
He looked over to him with furrowed brows.
"What does she write to you about?"
"Often…" he took a pause to light a cigarette and inspect how many he had left. Too few. "It's about the weather"
"Like I bloody believe that"
"Believe what you want. I-"he flicked the letter out and snapped it straight like a newspaper between his hands "will be busy reading my letter"
Thank you for the hat, although I am sorry to say that the rats got at it while I was busy shaving and it's no longer fit for purpose. Your brother decided to put what was left of it on his periscope and some guy opposite, assuming it was a head poking over the line, shot at it. Thankfully, it was a bad shot and so I think he may survive to be eaten further.
From your letters it sounds as though all our worrying is for nothing and so I shall tell the girls to think of you all as off on a boys holiday, causing schoolboy terror on the continent. I put a pack of envelopes in with Frank's letter, like a mother sending off to her child at boarding, in an effort to convince him to write to me more. You can borrow one. Or two. No more.
Also, Please give him a clap behind the ear for me and tell him our actual mother is beside herself at the length between letters. If I must march my way over there to knock some sense into him myself, I will. You have been warned, Mr Shelby.
Frank has redeemed himself by making us a sort of fireplace in the tent. He took a shot through bucket we were using to bail the water out the trenches and filled it with scraps to burn. I sit by it now, as cosy as I've ever been, to write this letter to you.
We've had a hard few days and nights and the return to the camp couldn't have come sooner. I can't tell you much (they'll only take it out) but know that both me and Frank are well. I hope to hear from you again soon, as it has been a while since your last letter and I treasure your words.
I took your advice and went to see your Aunt. She put the fear of God into the man and he hasn't bothered me since. I'm not entirely sure of her methods but from the time I spent at her table, I can only assume. My goodness, is she a certain woman. I think she likes me? It was very hard to tell. I hope this snow hasn't found its way over to you and that your bucket is burning brightly.
The snow has in fact found us, and we're glad for it. At least you can sit on it, rather than sloshing about the rivers in the trench. The officers tell me we're to limit our talk of the weather, as it can give away the state of our trenches were this to fall into the wrong hands. So you'll have to settle for knowing it is bloody cold. My new hat is a blessing and I thank you.
Polly likes you. I'd send her letter back to you as proof but it's half blown to hell by now. Better it than my head, Frank says.
I've packed some chocolate up for you, so make sure to ask Frank for it. No doubt he'll have pocketed it. This is your written evidence and receipt, as it were. Please collect.
We women decided to go out to the Christmas fair together (we were under strict instructions from Polly to enjoy ourselves! And so I obeyed as good as any soldier!). My grandfather has just bought a camera (!) and he came along to document. I've put a picture of us all in front of the big tree in town for you. I hope it makes you smile, rather than homesick.
Merry Christmas, Thomas. I hope next year I may be able to give you a gift in person.
I hoped that our New Year's letter would be on a sweeter topic than this. It pains me to write this letter. I do not know if by now you will have received the note from Frank about his being shot, but I did not want you to have to find out from a cross out postcard or a stranger if not.
We thought at first he may only be laid up for a while, and be back to cause havoc in a few weeks but I am afraid his fever worsens and we worry for him. We know he is strong, but I thought you should have time to prepare yourself.
I haven't received a letter from you in some time and so I do not know whether you wish me to keep writing. I won't tell you much in that case, not that I have much time for it anyway, they are moving us off to Somewhere In France.
I hope the last of Frank's things found their way back to you and I am sorry I could not be there to speak over his grave. I will visit, when all this is done. If I am not there with him. If that is the case, I would ask you to visit me and speak a few kind words, as I so cherish the ones I read from these pages.
I will also admit that I kept a photograph of you that Frank had in his bunk before it could be inventoried. If you are truly done with our letters, I will leave it in the mud if that is what you wish.
Thomas. I find it hard to write these words. I have tried many times since-
I have tried many times since my brother passed and found myself near inconsolable each time. I did not mean to deprive you of our communication and it is the thought of you waiting in the trench to hear from me that allows me to break through my sorrow now. Polly has been my rock, keeping me busy through it all, and she tells me to assure you we are keeping things as they should be here.
I find it hard to write much, so I will end this here.
Keep the photograph.
"Are you not ready?"
Polly stood at the doorway, fiddling with the buttons on her coat.
"I-I'm going to finish these books off. One less thing for you all to worry about, give you some time to settle back in and be together for a while"
"Nonsense, come on, get your coat"
"Polly"
"You told him you'd be there" she reminded, and you kept your eyes low to avoid her stare.
"I said we would speak when he got home, that's not the same. I never promised to be waiting on the platform"
"Well, you should have. He didn't give you the date for no reason"
"Polly-"
"What are you so afraid of? He's coming home. He and his brothers are going to be on the 11 o'clock train and we are going to be there when they arrive" she replied, stern.
"My brother isn't"
The room was silent. Ada had been fussing in the background behind Polly but she stopped the second she heard your voice.
"Sweetheart…"
"I thought I could…but now I don't. I was so excited last night, I was…but then I dreamt of Frank.
I was running up the steps and I could see the platform it was so close, and he was on the train, I could see him in the doorway. But he wouldn't step off. And I was screaming at him, 'Frank, come on! Step off, you're home'.
But the train pulled away. And I chased after it, and I was running and running for miles but….I don't think I can, Polly. Not like this"
She stepped over to where you were sitting and pulled you in against her, bent over your head to envelop you in an embrace.
You sat in the empty office after they left. It was too quiet, you'd never actually seen it empty. Polly had given everyone the day off, either to visit the people demobbing or to grieve for those who weren't. Dust danced lazily through a streak of light coming through the slats over the windows and the clock marked each second with a click.
You weren't sure how much time had passed but at some point you were moving, up and out of the chair, grabbing your coat off the rail as you went. The street was busy outside, people gathering in the middle of the road, all the house doors open, people weaving in and out. Your heart clenched as you saw a little girl being carried by her father, still in uniform, smiling so wide you envied her.
"You heading home?"
You swung your head around, startled at the sound of the voice next to you.
"Oh, Fred, uh…no, actually"
"Oh, I was going to offer you a lift, I'm taking the van back that way"
You took a deep breath, shoved your hands deeper into your coat pockets.
"Are you going near the train station by any chance?"
"I could make a detour"
"Only I need to get there by 11, and-"
"I'll get you there, don't you worry"
You ran full pelt up the steps to the platform. If you slowed down you'd stop still and probably have to crumple to the muddy surface with your pain. The paving was packed up top and you had to struggle through the waiting crowds to find a familiar face. It ended up being a familiar voice.
"Finn, I won't tell you again!"
Finn was hanging half off the platform edge, holding on to Ada's arm and trying to look down the track for the train.
"But I can see it, Pol! I can see the train!"
"Ada, get him in, for goodness sake"
"I didn't miss it?!" you shouted over the ruckus.
She turned to you, looking shocked at first but then smiling wide and drawing you in with a hand on each side of your face.
"You're here!"
"I promised him I would be"
You smiled a little, as much as you could muster. Polly pulled you to her side, locking arms with you, holding you close.
"You stay right next to me, alright? I'm staying right here next to you"
You nodded, breathing deeply.
"When those doors open you won't be the only one crying, alright? Don't be ashamed"
"Polly…"
Your voice was breaking as everyone shuffled back from the edge. The train was pulling up to the concrete and a rush of warm air danced round your ankles.
"It's alright" She wrapped her hand over yours and squeezed tight.
It took a few more screeching moments for it to stop completely and there was a buzz around as faces pressed to windows up and down the train. People started shouting and darting off when they noticed someone, hands pressing against glass, snaking out of windows for their first contact in at least months, if not longer.
The doors opened and men began to spill out and for a moment you realised what it must look like when they came over the top. You thought of Frank, and whether the last thing he saw was a spill of uniforms towards him through a crowd.
Ada shouted out as she grabbed out at a man and you recognised him from the photos on Polly's walls as John. Arthur was next, and Polly kept a tight hold to your hand, bringing him in with the other. You shuffled back a little, your arms forming a bridge behind her, giving them what little space you could. Suddenly you felt very alone, here in the swarm. You barely heard your name over the din but it was there and your stomach danced.
"Tommy"
He looked exhausted, and like he was trying not to look exhausted, but you saw it in his eyes. His lips pulled up at the edge at the sound of his name but it was half hearted. His eyes lit up a little though and you dropped Polly's hand to step towards him.
"I-"
You opened and closed your mouth, struggling with what to say, Tommy waiting patiently for something substantial to come out. But it never did. This was easier in letters. You could tarry over words as long as you needed to.
You both ended up laughing at the same time, and he brought his hand up to cup your face. His lips were on yours in a moment, tender and shallow, tentative. He pulled back just enough to check your expression.
"How about we start with 'Hello'"
His whisper fanned warm breath over your blushing skin and you rolled your lips between your teeth, biting at the edge.
"Hello"
There was the breathy laugh again and you flicked your eyes around, embarrassed.
"Welcome home, soldier"
"Hmm"
You stayed stood in your little bubble, people scurrying around you as blurs of colour and scraps of conversation as they passed.
"There's lots of people here" you mumbled.
He nodded, raising his eyebrow a little.
"Yes, there is"
"You're…stood very close"
"I am"
"You kissed me"
"Yes"
"In front of all the people"
"Yes"
You fidgeted around, and his eyes dropped every time you licked your lips nervously.
"That's…"
"Did you not want me to?"
"I...just…with the people"
"I waited a long time, screw the people"
"Oh!"
"Yeah"
"Ok…"
He smiled for real this time, enjoying the fluttering of your eyelids, the gentle patter of your fingers on his arm where it still held your cheek.
He scrunched his nose when he talked, half a smirk on his face.
"They all assume you're my long-suffering wife anyway, don't worry about the gossip"
"Well…in that case"
You pushed up on your toes and met his lips again, someone hooting in the background. You heard Polly snap at them and assumed it must have been his brothers getting at him. Tommy smiled against your lips, hands trailing to grip at your waist.
"I tell you what, he's home two minutes and he's already at it. Barely set foot-"
"Right, Arthur, shut up. Finn, get back here. Ada, please, fetch him before he gets on that train and we have to follow him halfway across the bloody country. God, you know, I had peace and bloody quiet for a while there"
"We missed you too, Pol"
Tommy moved one of his hands to meld with yours and you flicked your eyes between him and where Polly was shepherding grown men off the platform.
"We better get home" you said, and a low smile worked onto his face.
"Home, is it?"
"Yeah, well. It's growing on me"
"Oh?"
"We'll have to see how it goes, you know. What with a load of brutish men swarming the place, I might be off"
"Well…we'll do our best to keep our manners about us"
Neither of you moved off the platform, looking back at each other. His eyes were tired again and little tears were breaching yours finally. You sniffed a little, eyes scanning the train as it pulled off again.
"He would have punched you spark out if you'd pulled this with him stood there"
"Yeah…if he didn't throw me onto the tracks first"
You both smiled sadly, you nodding off into the distance, following the smoke as it dissipated.
"Not even gone on a bloody date and you're already taking liberties" You mimicked Franks voice.
"Better take you on a date then"
"He would've kicked off about that as well, he was never happy"
"He was when he read your letters"
Your tears poured out more at that and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out.
"I don't know why, all I did was take the piss of him" you joked through the tears.
Tommy smiled again, eyes scanning behind you around the now half-empty platform. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks off on the cuff of your coat and composing yourself.
"Right, come on soldier. Time to go home"