Chapter 3 – When your duty comes a calling

May 31 1915

The fields lay out in front of him as far as the eye could see. Everything around him was as green as the emerald isle itself and he took in a deep breath as the warm air surrounded him. Sitting atop his silver grey gelding, he tugged on the reins gently, slowing the horse to a stop. Reaching down, Thomas patted the horses neck softly, feeling the soft fur against his calloused fingertips. He'd taken to riding most mornings over the last few weeks, knowing there was a good chance he wouldn't get much opportunity, if any, in the not too distant future. His stomach twisted at the very thought of leaving his family behind. John had already gone, having made the trip to London the week previous. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would likely be stationed overseas. Martha took it particularly hard, hysterically crying on the platform of the train station as John boarded. The children had waved their goodbyes to him, blissfully unaware of the impending danger their father was facing. John had kissed his newborn baby on the head, his eyes filling up as he did so. Martha had given birth at home a month previous and John had spent as much time as possible with young William, desperate to cling on to as much as he could before finally having to accept his fate when the time came. Since he had left, Arthur had also received his draft notice and was due to leave for France at the end of June. Despite not having the same commitments at home as his younger brother, Arthur still found it difficult imagining leaving his family and Thomas knew he would miss Finn in particular. He was only a young boy, and he idolised his older brothers, desperate to dress similarly to them, act in a certain way, and was desperate to be seen as 'one of the boys.'

Thomas gazed over the vast countryside in front of him. Despite being able to see Birmingham vividly from his current position, he felt a million miles away. The air was cleaner up here and he felt as though it opened up his lungs as he took in deep breaths. His horse shook his head impatiently underneath him and Thomas recognised he was getting restless.

"Good boy." Thomas rubbed his neck again and quickly dismounted. Stepping in front of the horse, he pressed his forehead against the horses face. He had a blaze facial marking down the full length of his face, pure white like snow. Thomas rubbed his cheek gently, whispering romany in his ears. He was gypsy on both sides of his family and he took the traveller link seriously, securing stronger relationships with Johnny Dogs and the Lee family. However, he couldn't deny that at some times, those relationships were strained at times. Grasping the reins, Thomas turned the horse and began to walk back in the direction of Small Heath. Whilst he was away from the trials and tribulations of life in Small Heath, he could take time to think things through. Since the outbreak of the war, new faces had appeared in the area and he couldn't help but feel overly cautious about it. He wasn't keen on change and disliked seeing people he didn't recognise. However, one had caught his eye. The young woman who had run into him one evening had certainly garnered attention and he remembered his Uncle Charlie talking about her the next day.

"She's staying with Isabel Davis." He had told him. "She's her Aunt. I can't remember her name though"

Thomas knew Mrs Davis from his church going youth but hadn't seen her for some time. He had become slightly disillusioned with God since the outbreak of war, finding it hard to believe in a being which would allow so much pain and destruction to take place. Since she had arrived, fighting across the world had increased with the recent involvement of Italy and Thomas was struggling to see any light at the end of the tunnel. He knew it was just a waiting game before the letter finally came for him.

June 28 1915

The train station platform was abnormally busy and Thomas followed dutifully behind his family as they made their way towards the steam train which had pulled into Birmingham New Street Station. Arthur walked out in front of them, clad in his khaki coloured uniform. On a normal day, he would have stood out like a sore thumb, however today, the platform was crammed when men wearing similar attire. Stopping a few steps from the train, Arthur stared hard at it, somehow unable to face his family. Pushing slowly past them, Thomas reached his brother, placing his hand on top of his shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze. He felt Arthur tense at his touch, to which, he leaned forward, whispering a few words in romany. He visibly relaxed and turned to face his younger brother.

"How did our John do this eh?" Arthur wondered aloud. "And wit' a young family. How did he manage it Tom?"

Thomas tilted his head slightly, his eyes burning into his brothers. "He got on that train the same way you will, brother."

"He'll be at the front by now, Tom. How is he doin' this? You've heard about it all eh? Its not just guns they're using. Its gas and cannons. Have you heard what that gas does? But, it don't kill you straight away. You could be livin' with it for weeks!" Arthur's shoulders were almost up around his ears and his lips were pursed tightly together. Thomas reached forward and placed both hands on Arthur's biceps.

"Arthur." Thomas narrowed his eyes and gently shook his brother. "Hey. Listen to me. Look around you. You're one of the oldest here. You need to be there for these boys. They're leaving their families behind as well but, they haven't got the life experience you do. They're going to be lost. And you need to help them through it. You're doin' this for your country. Otherwise, we're all condemned to live a completely different life. We'll no longer be English. We have to win this, and you know it. Now, you're gonna say your goodbye's, you're gonna get on that train and you're gonna do us proud."

Vigorously nodding his head, Arthur lifted his hand, taking his brothers fiercely. They shook each others, a silent promise passing between them. No one else around them would be any wiser at knowing what was going on, but as Polly looked on, she could understand the moment her two nephews were having. John had already gone, and now Arthur was following. She knew it wouldn't be long before Thomas joined them and although she was expecting it, she wasn't anywhere near prepared for it. The brothers separated and Thomas stepped to one side, allowing his brother time to speak with the rest of the family. He looked up and down the platform, watching intently as other families were going through the same emotions. There was hardly a dry eye to be seen and he suddenly felt awkward, as though he was intruding on these private moments. Allowing his eyes to drop to the floor, he kept his line of sight on his shoes, which were tapping impatiently on the concrete floor.

"Tom."

Arthur's gruff voice broke into his thoughts once more and Thomas raised his head until they were eye to eye. Stepping forward, Arthur held out his hand once more, pulling his brother to him and throwing his arms around his shoulders. Not one for usually showing much affection, Thomas was taken by surprise, but yet, allowed himself to be enveloped in the hug. Without looking at him again, Arthur released him and lifted his large rucksack back up from the floor where he had previously discarded it. He stepped back and made his way towards the awaiting door. The whistles sounded around him, echoing throughout the station and this action seemed to cause mass hysteria. Crying grew louder and people rushed to hug their loved ones one more time. Arthur stepped up into the train and made his way into the first carriage he came to. He threw his bag onto a seat which faced the nearby platform and took a seat beside it. The train suddenly began to come to life and Arthur finally allowed himself to look to his side. His family were huddled together, watching him intently. Nodding his head, he gave them a brief wave before looking back down at his fidgeting hands. He didn't look back up, even as the train pulled out of the station.

September 18 1915

She sat under a large oak tree, somewhat thankful for the shade it provided. Considering it was mid September, the weather was unseasonably warm. Leaning against the wide, sturdy trunk, Emily's eyes fell down to her heeled black shoes. Her stockings were slightly visible and she could feel the heat burning down on her and she cursed her mothers insistence to wear such heavy clothing. Looking quickly around, and satisfied no one was around, she reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled it up above her knees, allowing the slight breeze to drift around her legs, offering her some reprieve from the heat. She leaned back again and closed her eyes, enjoying the silence, something she certainly wasn't used to, living with another four people.

"Ahem."

Emily's eyes flew open at the interruption, her eyes darting around her. Unable to see anyone, she was about to rest her head back against the trunk when the voice sounded once more.

"Not interrupting am I?"

Again, she looked around and finally sensed movement to her left. Looking around, she could only just make out the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away from her. It was difficult to make him out as the sun shone directly behind him, masking his features. Taking a step forward, he was finally fully in her vantage point and she recognised him as the man she had bumped into the first night she arrived in Small Heath.

"No, not at all." Emily finally found her voice. She gazed up at the man, reminding herself of his traits. His blue eyes seemed brighter today than she remembered. He was slightly less clean shaven and a five o clock shadow had started to appear around his chin and cheeks. He was fairly casually dressed, wearing a pair of grey trousers and a light blue pinstriped shirt which he had slightly unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. He wore brown lace up boots and a newsboy style cap. He looked down at her before finally allowing his eyes to drift down to her exposed legs, raising his eyebrows slightly. Understanding his look, Emily gasped before pushing the hem of her dress back down to her ankles, her eyes staying down in embarrassment.. "I'm sorry. It's just so warm today. I didn't think anyone was around."

"I'm not complaining." He smirked, cheekily. "Do you mind if I join you? Or do you want some privacy?"

Emily lifted her gaze back up to him, trying to work out how she felt about it.

"I don't bite." He teased.

She smiled shyly, indicating for him to sit. Tugging his trouser legs up slightly, he dropped down beside her, keeping a suitable distance away. "What brings you here?"

Emily shrugged. "Just needed some peace and quiet."

"And now I've appeared and disturbed you." He glanced over at her. He could tell she was nervous and to be honest, he felt it as well. It had been a while since he had spent any real time with a woman and he assumed he would be out of practice.

"I don't mind. You're not as noisy as my younger brother and sister."

Tommy nodded, but said nothing. They sat in silence for another few minutes.

"Why are you here?" Emily asked him, breaking the peace.

"I needed to get away. Both of my brothers have gone to war in the last few months. I received letters from them last week. They're at the front. It's a tough read. And I don't doubt I'll be joining them very soon. I just wanted to enjoy what little quiet I still have left before artillery shells are the only noise I hear." He admitted, rather more truthfully than she was expecting.

"That must be difficult. I want to do more. I was a nurse before I came here."

"Where did you come from?" He asked.

"London." She explained. "I worked in Hammersmith hospital. I loved it there. And then my mother sprung this on me that we were moving to Birmingham to stay safe. She didn't give me much choice. I could have left home, stayed in London. But I couldn't imagine being so far away from my siblings."

"I understand that. I have a younger brother. He's only seven, and the thought of leaving him is killing me."

She listened intently as he recounted his feelings at his brothers being sent to war. He admitted the guilt he felt at being the only one who was still to go, and Emily could feel the anger that was built up inside him at having to face such a conflict. He told her how he'd had high hopes for starting his own business. A family run business. Something where he could keep horses, clearly a beloved past time of his. He also told her of his pain and sorrow at having to deal with the loss of Greta, something he didn't mind admitting he struggled to do with his own family. But yet, opening up to a complete stranger felt easier. She had no preconceived ideas about him. No judgement was passed, and he felt as though he could be completely honest with her. After a while, the air started to grow cooler, symbolising the end to the afternoon.

"I probably should be getting back." She admitted, almost painfully. If she was honest with herself, she knew she didn't want to go, yet, she got to her feet and straightened out her dress.

"Would you like me to walk you back?" He asked, looking up at her.

She shook her head softly, allowing her dark hair to rustle around her shoulders. "No, that's alright. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Goodbye then."

He watched her as she turned on her heel and began the walk down the hill they had been sitting on, carefully following the narrow makeshift path.

"Goodbye." He whispered, inaudibly.

She briefly turned her head to catch one last look at him before he became just a blurry figure in the distance, and it was only then, she realised she didn't even know his name.

October 4 1915

The room was ridiculously humid and Emily could feel the beads of sweat form on her forehead. Using the sleeve of her dress, she wiped it away and looked back down to the task in hand. As the numbers of soldiers being sent to the front was dramatically increasing every month, so was the number of letters being sent back and forth and the Post Offices were severely understaffed to deal with them. Not only that, censorship ensured that every single letter had to be scrutinised, not just to ensure that no information could be leaked to the enemy, but also to guarantee morale stayed high. Any letters heading to France which contained bad news had to be confiscated. Going on the advice of her mother, Emily volunteered to help at Birmingham's main post office, sorting through the mail before it headed to the main depot in Regent's Park before finally travelling across the Channel to France. Although it wasn't nursing, she got on well with the people she worked with and there was something so voyeuristic about reading other people's private letters. But sometimes, her heart broke at the content of them. Some from mothers writing to their sons and lovers separated by war. It was heart wrenching. It had been over a year since the war had started and it hadn't gotten any easier. The sounds coming from the press, the Commons and the letters she was reading made it clear to her that the conflict wasn't getting any easier. She struggled with the facts and tried to tell herself it wouldn't be long until it was all over, yet, that didn't seem to be the case. Not only dealing with this, she couldn't help but think of the mystery man from Small Heath. She had seen him around a few times since their heart to heart a few weeke back, but she still had no idea who he was. Only seeing him in passing, she had never plucked up the courage to approach him, and he never seemed to notice her. Not wanting to ask too many questions and draw attention to herself, she hadn't asked anyone about him. Also, having felt suffocated living with her aunt, Emily had finally managed to secure some lodgings nearby, allowing her to still stay close to her brother and sister, but far enough away that she could enjoy some peace and tranquillity.

"Emily!"

Emily turned her head briefly, her thoughts interrupted by the yell of her name. Her supervisor appeared beside her. "There is a lot of mail come through in the last couple of days that we need to sort through. Would you mind staying later?"

"Not at all." She answered, almost immediately. Truth was, despite enjoying having her own space, spending the evenings there sometimes felt incredibly lonely. At least here, she had some company. "Happy to."

The woman nodded in acceptance, turned and left Emily to continue her work.

November 21 1915

It took longer than expected, but as he twisted the letter through his calloused fingertips, it wasn't unexpected either. Having finally received his draft notice, Tommy was now sitting on his Aunt Polly's couch, dressed in his military uniform, with his rucksack placed firmly at his feet. His boots were laced up tightly and shined to perfection.

"Ready?" Polly's voice broke into his thoughts.

Looking up, he nodded. She was surrounded by his remaining family, Ada and Finn. The numbers of the Shelby clan had dwindled significantly over the last few months and Tommy was feel lonelier with each passing day. "As I'll ever be."

He got to his feet and lifted the rucksack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. Making their way outside, Polly held back, choosing to walk behind her nephew, trying to mask the tears that were threatening to fall. Now that he was leaving, she felt completely alone. It would be up to her to keep things running at home. Thomas had made a start in setting up the family business. He had been looking more and more into horse racing and had recently bought a new horse and now it would be left to Polly to deal with. He had been considering a move into racing and betting, something which was still relatively frowned upon, but it had the makings of a major success and Thomas felt relatively guilty at having to leave it all behind, but he knew where he needed to be.