Sorry it took so long. I got a bit busy and had writer's block but I'm getting over it now and I hope you enjoy this.
It was months before we could see each other again, and even then it was after the war with Germany had been declared and he was going to say goodbye. Another bittersweet day.
We wandered aimlessly around the training camp, arm inarm, letting other couples pass us as we sat on another stone bench and talked. It was only small talk, no deep conversations, too scared to talk about the future. I was more interested in just having him with me one last time before. Well anything can happen and I'm sure the war wouldn't take James. It'll be over by Christmas.
The park is bare, full of soldiers and officers in uniform. James shows me his horse, Joey. He picked him up in Devon from a boy named Albert, lied openly about his age just to be with his horse. I can see why, he's a beautiful creature. After showing off, we walk around some more, mostly in silence, but I prefer having him next to me, simply enjoying his touch instead of meaningless small talk. He looks so different to what he did all those months ago, more sophisticated, mature, and much more handsome, I never thought it possible!
At last it was time to say our goodbyes. James' arms envelope me and his chin rests on my shoulder. I burry my face in his sleeve, trying to hold back my tears.
"Don't go." I whisper fervently, "Please don't go."
"I'll be fine darling." He reassures, his voice almost cracking, "It'll be over by Christmas."
"I'll miss you!" I whisper.
"I'll miss you too. But I promise to write you." He replies. He pulls me away slightly, just our heads, before leaning down and kissing me gently. Our lips part, then lock again for a few sweet moments.
"I love you. Remember that." He smiles, his eyes glistening.
"I love you too." I reply, trying my best not to sob. I don't want his last memory of me to be a sad one. My father calls and I have to drag myself away from James's arms.
"I'll be home for Christmas!" He calls before we join the thickening crowd at the gates.
"I know!" I call back over the crowd. We smile at each other one last time before I walk, holding my father's arm for support, out of the gates and away from James.
"Don't you worry your pretty little heart over him dear, the war will be won by Christmas." He reassures me, kissing my forehead as I start to sob.
"Over by Christmas."
"It'll be over by Christmas."
"We'll have won by Christmas.
"It'll be over by Christmas." The murmurs grow louder and louder and I want to scream, "Can Christmas be over already!"
In my dreams, Christmas never comes, the months drag on and on for years. But when Christmas finally does come, it brings home the ghosts of men that were once jovial and full of spirit, now there are just men of old, men like my uncle who died in the Boer war, thickening all around me. I see the dead and the dying, I see all the soldiers from the officer's party and those from tonight. I see Charlie and James' commanding officer, Major Jaimie Stewart, but no matter where I look, I can't find James. I see all the soldiers except for James. Even Joey doesn't come. I ask the ghosts around me, "Where is James? Has anyone seen my James?" I'm screaming, shouting but the only answer I get is, "It'll be over by Christmas. We'll be home for Christmas. We'll have won by Christmas. I'll see you at Christmas. Christmas. "