This is my very first Mary Poppins story so I beg for your understanding. The concept of this jumped into my head one day and wouldn't leave, so here it is. I'm going to aim for a chapter a week, perhaps more if I can get the time to post. Any comments are welcomed.
(London, 1923)
Captain Matthew Wallace, formerly of His Majesty's army, sat at a corner table in "The Boar's Head, one of the oldest pubs in London and waited for some of his former comrades who had been in the service with him during the Great War to arrive.
First to come striding in the door was Tom Henley, still as large and barrel-chested as he'd ever been with little Davy Barrows in tow. His dear friend James Harris entered moments later and greetings were made as they got themselves settled and ordered a pint of ale from the fresh-faced young man who informed them that his name was Michael, and he would be serving them this evening,
Once they had taken a few sips of their drinks and slaked their thirst, talk turned to their lives since they had returned from the front. James and his wife Alice had two thriving children while Davy would be taking the matrimonial plunge in a few weeks himself to Tom's youngest sister, Sarah.
Inevitably, the conversation turned to those who hadn't come back and Matthew said thoughtfully, "You know, there's one bloke that I've always wondered about. I can't remember his name for the life of me and the last that I ever saw of him was right before the battle of the Somme."
"What was he like, Matthew?" James asked, curiosity in his tone as he sipped at his pint.
Casting his mind back over seven years, Matthew took a moment. "He was a tall, lanky chap, Cockney from the sound of him. He was dark haired if I remember correctly and he always had a slight twinkle of mischief in his eyes. The thing I remember the most about him though were his drawings. He had a little brown book of things he'd set on paper and our commander would sometimes ask him to tack up a particularly good one so we could all see it,"
"Did he draw people, or buildings and things?" Tom queried as he leaned his elbows on the table.
Matthew smiled faintly. "He could draw absolutely anything. He'd do real things, like Big Ben or the Bridge but what we all liked best were the scenes that he dreamed up himself."
Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he withdrew a folded piece of paper with tattered edges. "A couple nights before we charged, we were all talking about girls as we always did back then and someone started to tease him and ask if he had a girl back home. He didn't want to say anything, but we kept needling him until he admitted that there was someone he cared for very much, but she always had something to accomplish, so he never said anything to her about how he felt."
"Sounds something like me." James commented as Matthew nodded and continued with the tale.
"We asked if he had a picture of her and he said that he didn't, but since he'd known her for so long, he reckoned that he could draw her pretty well."
Unfolding the paper carefully, Matthew turned it so that the others could see. It was a woman who was laughing, dressed in a fine white dress with a bonnet to match it. Her eyes were a bright blue and her hair was dark, held back from her face but a few strands had worked themselves loose of their confines and curled around her face. "Blimey..." Davey breathed and Tom whistled softly.
"Of course we all asked about her." Matthew sighed, tapping the picture gently with a finger, "but all that he would tell us was her name was Mary, and she was a nanny who "went about with the wind" as he put it. This was the last drawing he did and tacked up, so once I lost track of him, I took the picture with me in the hopes that I could find out whatever became of him...and her."
Signaling the boy for a refill, James looked at his friend. "My Alice volunteers with several veteran organizations. Perhaps, if you will let me borrow this picture for a time, she can ask around and see if this woman is familiar to anyone. What was her name again?"
"Mary!" said a startled voice and the four men's heads quickly swiveled to look at the young water, Michael. He was starting at the drawing as though he'd just seen a ghost.
"You know who this woman is?" Matthew demanded, feeling a thrill of excitement that perhaps finally, he would figure out what had happened of the soldier and his mystery woman.
Michael nodded slowly, obvious trying to get his thoughts together. "Her name is Mary Poppins, or at least it was."
"Was?" Matthew repeated. His excitement began to subside. Had she died? Married another when she found out that her sweetheart had been killed in combat?
"It was her maiden name back when she was my old nanny, but ho did you come by Bert's drawing of her?" the lad asked.
The name jogged Matthew's memory and he exclaimed triumphantly, "Bert Alfred! That was his name!"
Young Michael's brow furrowed. "Did you know Bert, sir?"
"Not well, but we served in the same unit in the war." Matthew explained. "After a charge at the battle of the Somme, I never saw him again and always wondered what had happened to the pair of them. So when the unit was moved to another location, I took the drawing with me to see if I could track him down later."
Michael beamed at him. "It's a long story, but if you have the time, I'd be happy to tell you."
Matthew looked at the others; after all, it was supposed to be an evening for them to catch up with one another, but they all nodded. It was time to know the entire story at last. "I would appreciate that, Michael and we definitely have the time. Please, pull up a chair."
Obeying rapidly, Michael looked at Matthew. "When did you last see Bert?"
"Right before the charge. He was putting his bayonet on his gun."
Nodding, Michael thought for a moment. "Bert said that one he'd gotten his bayonet secured, he checked his boot laces to make sure they were still snugly tied...
(France, July 1,1916)
Bert Alfred's mouth was dry as he stood up from checking his bootlaces. It was his little ritual, something he always did before the call came to venture out into No Man's Land.
Casting a glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingered for a moment on the picture that he had drawn of Mary Poppins. Maybe it was rather impertinent of him, but Bert couldn't lie when the others had asked him. The simple truth of the matter was that if he could marry anyone, it would be her,
The others in his unit had been teasing him nonstop, calling her "Bert's Angel" no matter how much he'd told them to stop, that it just wasn't like that. Still, he couldn't help but think that the name was rather apt. Hopefully she'd never find out about this because -he- wasn't about to tell her!
His grip tightened on his rifle and he swallowed. It had been six years since he'd seen her, two since he'd been drafted and often he wondered if she ever spared a thought for him at all, or if he was just a memory of an easier place and time like a comfortable old blanket tucked away in a closet.
Quickly reaching a hand up to check that his helmet was securely in place, Bert waited anxiously along with all of the other men for the order that would send them into action.
Finally it came, shattering the silence. "CHARGE!"
Immediately, Bert cradled his rifle in one arm and scampered up the ladder to No Man's Land with depressingly practiced ease. As soon as he reached the top, the shelling started.
Ducking his head low, he followed the man in front of him toward the enemy line. Several times he had to lay flat as the Germans began to fire but he was making some good headway toward the line when he heard a whistling noise and his entire world exploded.
A punishing force sent him flying backward, his ears ringing and bright spots appearing in his eyes. He rolled to a stop, unable to stand up or even call out to anyone around him for help. He wanted to get to safety, but everything was spinning like an out of control carousel and his right leg felt like it was being burned off of him.
He was dimly aware of hands gripping him under his arms and someone shouting something near his ear, but he could only make out the odd word here and there. His eyes were streaming and he still couldn't see anything beyond blurs of color, mostly the drab green of army uniforms whizzing by him.
More hands grasped his legs and he was weightless again. Bright lights flashed every now and then, but he had no idea where he was or where these hands were taking him.
He was laid on something and lifted into what seemed like a cave but he knew that it had to be one of the trucks. Suddenly, he could feel a rumbling underneath him and then he was bumped and jostled for what felt like an eternity.
More voices spoke urgently in his ears and he was better able to make out the words this time. "Hold on" one person told him and "you'll be okay" said another.
Obviously, he'd been wounded. He wasn't sure how bad the injury was, or if once he was healed he'd be going back to the front. All he could do now was ait.
A bright light shone into his eyes and he grimaced, turning his head away. It felt like someone was stabbing his head with dull knives and he just wanted it to stop.
From the corner of his eye, he saw white blobs approaching him and he figured that these must be the doctors. As they gathered around him, one of them moved to stand near his head. All he could see before a large black thing was lowered over his mouth was a pair of blue eyes and dark hair. "Mary..." he whispered before he knew no more.