12th December 1942

My dearest Mary,

The days are getting shorter, the nights longer and the cold is almost symbolic of my feelings.

As you may have noticed by now, I will spare you every little detail of what I see every day.

It's Christmas in less than two weeks and it hurts so much to leave you alone on that day. I wish I could come to you so that we can spend the holidays together - but I am not allowed to do that.

Oh, how I would love to take you in my arms and kiss you. I miss you so much that I just can't put it into words!

I hope you know that I will come to you as soon as I can. But nobody knows when this will be.

You are still with the Banks, aren't you? Please give them my regards!
I am glad that you are with them so you are not completely alone during this time.

I love you,

Bert

Mary ran her delicate fingers over his scabby but also slightly curved handwriting.

They were separated for a little more than a year and a half and it felt like an eternity on the one hand, but on the other hand, the time flew by in an instant. She was actually still with the Banks' while he was somewhere in England; always afraid of being involved in an attack.

Her gaze slid from the written lines to the window. It snowed. Was it snowing at the place Bert was at too?
Meanwhile, she sat on an armchair in front of the fireplace and sipped a hot cup of tea.

Bert loved the atmosphere at this time of the year and he would probably have made a sketch or even a painting.
Gouache was the medium of his choice for the latter. On the one hand, because it was much cheaper than the expensive oil paints and on the other hand, because these colours were much easier to paint with. They were also based on chalk, which was a funny coincidence that made Mary smile again and again.
At Christmas she would send him a package with a new sketchbook, pencils and chalk.

She let her eyes wander around the room; from the window over the fire to the mantelpiece, on which there were various framed photos. Mary got up and took a closer look at these for the first time in months:

The first picture was a photo of Uncle Albert, Bert and her in 1922. The photo was with her uncle until summer, but he had given it to her on her birthday.

The second one showed Bert and Elizabeth when she was nine years old. He had her on his shoulders and smiled proudly while she was just happy and stretched her little arms towards the sky.

Next to it was a portrait of her protégé in typical hospital clothes and a picture of her and Elizabeth from last year.

The last photo was a portrait of Bert.

Mary's gaze wandered back and forth between the last two photos. A strange feeling arose in her, which quickened her pulse and made her eyes widen.

"Here," Peter handed Bert a cup of tea, "I think you'll need a good cup of tea."

The sergeant gratefully accepted the hot liquid and took a sip. Immediately the tea warmed him from the inside and he felt a little better - because he had a cold.

He wouldn't say anything to Mary or Liz then, because he was afraid that both of them would just unnecessarily worry about him. After all, it was just a simple cold!
But Bert was sure that at least Liz would get to know about it very soon. And the reason for it stood before him and looked at him with a worried smile: Peter.

The two have developed into pen pals in the last few months and wrote to each other regularly. In the beginning it was mostly about medical topics but over time it got more personal. Bert remembered Peter telling him that they were now talking about their existing and, in Liz 'case, nonexistent cooking skills, and that they had found that Peter loves olives while Elizabeth dislikes them.

After Peter had also got a cup of tea, he sat down next to Bert. So the two lingered for a while without saying a word.

"I don't know if it's just me, but ... I'm not in a Christmas mood at all this year," said Peter, while he continued to stare into the distance.

Bert nodded: "I feel the same way..."

"Last year it was different ... To be honest, I was hoping last year that the war would be over by now and that we would all be home again," Peter looked directly at Bert; his light brown eyes were slightly red, "I miss London and my family."

For the first time in a while, Bert saw in Peter not the medical soldier but the young man who was supposed to be home and pursue his dreams.
Bert cursed himself a little for the fact that he saw less and less the individuals behind the uniform. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder: "You'll be home soon... I'll take care of that."
He gave another encouraging pat on the shoulder before he buried his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Thank you..." But there was something else that was on Peter 's soul. It wasn't anything negative, but he had the feeling that he had to ask Bert - and that was exactly what made him a little uncomfortable. "Bert?" He began shyly.

"Yea'?"

"If we are lucky and we're all back in London unharmed...", he took a deep breath and looked away, "may I take Elizabeth out?"

"I beg yer pardon?" That was unexpected!

Peter immediately regretted the question. But he had said it and must now stand up for it. "Well... when we write it seems to me that she is always relatively alone and has no real friends... at least none of her age. So I just wanted to invite her to dinner ... After all, we seem to get along well... "

Bert noticed how nervous Peter was: he avoided eye contact, stuttered slightly, and kneaded his hands.
With a sad smile he replied: "I can't decide for 'er but... But I'd be very 'appy if ya would take her out 'er. And I'm sure that she would be 'appy, too."

The sergeant actually had to admit that he wanted a friendship between the two. They would be good for each other.
And who knows: maybe, just maybe, there would be something stronger than a friendship.

"Thank you!"

"Can I borrow her after Pete?"

At some point in the conversation Andrew must have joined them without their noticing.

"She's not an object, Andrew!", Bert's voice was relatively loud, but he didn't yell at him. "I also think that Liz would 'ate t' do anythin' with you as I know 'er."

"As if someone could resist me!", he laughed dirty, "ridiculous!"

"Piss off, Andrew!" Peter interfered. He didn't seem to be amused at all.

Andrew shook his head in disbelief and amusement and walked away.

"Why does 'e want Lizzy!? Every time we speak about her he has to leave a dumb comment..."

Peter didn't say a moment and just watched Bert. He could see worry and despair in his eyes. "Well... Liz is a lovely young lady ... And you know Andrews way of thinking."

"That doesn't give Andrew the right t' talk about 'er as if she were somethin' 'e could borrow!"

With these words Bert got up and walked a few meters to the edge of the camp.
He used his magic for the first time in half an eternity and lit a small pile of branches in front of him, buried his face in the scarf and warmed his hands.

Hundreds of kilometres away, Liz was doing almost the same thing. In Bert's uniform jacket and also with her face wrapped in a scarf, she sat on her bags and leaned against a tree. A small campfire was burning in front of her. She enjoyed the warm.

As she did so she let her gaze wander over the landscape. Since the forest was on a hill and largely bare, she could see the village in the valley very well.

A lot had happened in the past few months: She and Mary took Martha to the Banks'. They spent several weeks there before Elizabeth said goodbye to them and left in mid-September.

She first worked in a hospital about 150 kilometres away from the Banks, but left two weeks ago.

A tiredness overcame her and her gaze wandered first to Basil, who was grazing about a hundred meters in front of her, before she leaned back and closed her eyes.

She didn't know how long she was dozing when a noise caught her attention: Footsteps. Footsteps of a human!

With a frown, Elizabeth straightened up slightly and looked around: Basil had now gone a good hundred meters further down. She looked to the right and saw a silhouette.
A silhouette that was just reaching for a knife.

With widened eyes, she got up and ran away, followed by the silhouette. But she was faster!
She skilfully climbed a tree and waited until the stranger, who was wearing a British uniform, appeared below her. When this was the case, she dropped onto him and threw him to the ground. Groaning in pain, they rolled down the hill a little. The stranger, whose face was also wrapped in a scarf, wanted to defend himself with his knife, but Elizabeth was able to knock it out of his hand. Now the two were armed only with their hands and feet and everyone tried to get the upper hand.
They further rolled down the hill, but this time several meters more and Elizabeth managed to position herself above him when they came back to a reasonably level point.

Breathing heavily, she nailed him to the ground and held his wrists.
"Okay... Okay...", he breathed heavily, "I surrender."

Elizabeth pulled down his scarf to see his face. The eyes were grey, the hair brown and light freckles were found on his nose.
It was a face that looked familiar to her. A face that reminded her of her childhood. "Matthew?"

"Who are you?" He asked confused, "and how do you know my name?"

Elizabeth let go and pulled her scarf down to reveal her face. She gave him a friendly smile.

"Don't ya recognise me?"

"No-", but then he realised, "Liz?"

"Who else?"

Matthew straightened up and was hugged warmly by his old friend.

"I'm so 'appy t' see ya!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked worried when they broke apart, "and why are you wearing a ratty old uniform?"

"I'm passing through," Elizabeth slowly walked up the slope towards her bags, Matthew followed her.

"Where are you going?"

She shrugged her shoulders: "I don't know... T' where I'm needed I guess."

The young soldier eyed her: she looked tired, drained and dirty.
"Do you want to come to us? I could get you food, drink and maybe a blanket if you want. "

Elizabeth stopped. Normally she would decline such an offer and say something like 'No, thanks, I 'ave everything I need.' But not this time. She hadn't eaten in days and the last thing she drank was water from a puddle. And her clothes ... too airy and too thin for this time of year.

"That'd be perfect…"

"Come with me."

After Liz took her backpack and bag, they both went, followed by Basil, in the direction Matthew came from.
He wondered if it was the right thing to do with her.
Was it too dangerous? What would the other soldiers say?

But one day she would probably have run into them one way or another.

After about a fifteen minute walk, the two of them arrived at the other soldiers and, as expected, Elizabeth only got odd looks and stupid sayings here and there. But she ignored them.

"Where's the captain?" Matthew asked a soldier with whom he got along well.

"Back there."

Both went in the direction in which the soldier had pointed and it did not take long before they arrived at a tent.

Matthew was about to say to please wait when another familiar face appeared: Michael Banks.

Matthew saluted and was about to start talking when the captain passed him. "Elizabeth?"

"Michael!"

The two shook hands.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in London with Mary Poppins?"

Matthew couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the two of them talking. His captain knew his former best friend. It couldn't be a coincidence! He went to them: "I don't want to interrupt you two but... Shouldn't we go to a place where we are less disturbed?" He nodded at the soldiers who stood around them like curious children.

"Good point, Corporal Miller... Follow me."

"Wait 'ere," Liz whispered to Basil, who snorted in agreement.

Then the three caught in the tent Michael just came out of. "Please take a seat," he said and pointed to a couple of chairs.

Matthew and Elizabeth did as they were told. The latter let her gaze wander over everything. It was the first time she met soldiers at the front. Before that she had only been to attacked towns and villages and met the wounded here and there on her way.

An uneasy feeling, almost fear, arose in her when she realised how close she was to the front. Soon she would probably see more injured people than ever before. Even more than in the air raid two years ago.

"What brings you here, Elizabeth?" Michael started the conversation.

"I was passing through when I ran into Matthew... we've known each other since we were little, sir."

"You don't need to be so formal, Elizabeth. After all, you are not a soldier," he looked at her clothes," even if you are wearing a uniform… Where did you get it from? It must be at least 25 years old. "

Elizabeth did not answer immediately, but looked at the tattered sleeve. "From Bert," she knew he knew him.

Michael's eyes lit up: "Bert? Is he alright?"

"As far as I know, yea' he is. But that can change every minute", her voice became quieter towards the end and she hated her negative thoughts.

"Captain?" Matthew cut in.

"Yes, Corporal?"

"I figured that we could offer Liz something to eat, drink and, if necessary, even offer a warm blanket… After all, she has come a long way and we currently have enough rations for us all. I would even leave mine to her in case there were problems. "

"I see… Please go get her food and drink. I think a cup of tea would also be appropriate? "

"Yes, sir!" With these words, Matthew disappeared from the tent.

It was quiet in the tent for an indefinite period of time that no one could exactly interpret. Elizabeth couldn't quite realise where it had taken her, while Michael couldn't believe that a familiar face was now sitting in front of him.
All the while, Liz was still the tempestuous teenager to him when he thought of her. But now a young woman was sitting in front of him. His gaze caught on the bandage with the red cross.

"I see you are still in the medical field?"

"Still?" She looked like a puppy when she asked that.

"Jane told me that you worked in the hospital."

"Oh... Yea'... Right," she kneaded her fingers, "but I'm more like a paramedic now."

Michael nods when he notices something about the uniform. "Alfred?"

"Huh? Oh!", She pointed to the name tag,"Bert made it 'imself when 'e was in the trenches and t' be 'onest I've quietly adopted the last name over the years. So it fits."

The captain was about to do something when Matthew came into the tent. He had a backpack on his back and a tray with a teapot and three cups in his hands.
Michael and Elizabeth watched him quietly as he put everything down and pulled some things out of his backpack and placed them on the table. Then he poured tea into one of the cups.

With a friendly smile he went to his old friend: "Here," he handed her the cup with the hot liquid, "it will do you good."

"Thank ya."

The other two also poured themselves tea. While they sat there they didn't speak a single word; everyone hung in his mind.

Michael couldn't believe that Matthew and Elizabeth knew each other and that the latter was with them now.

Matthew first had to realise that after years of radio silence he would see his former best friend again.

And Elizabeth first had to deal with the fact that she was now at the front. In a place where she didn't want to see Matthew or Michael again. A place where Bert was, even if several hundred kilometres away. A place where neither she nor anyone else wanted and should be.

In the late evening, as at noon, Elizabeth sat in front of a small fire. She was alone because the others, including Basil, were already sleeping.
Liz struggled with herself. Should she write Mary, Bert and Peter where she was? On the one hand, they had the right to know what was going on in their lives. But on the other hand, she didn't want to unsettle any of the three.

The unmistakable sound of approaching steps reached her ear and she whirled around, startled.

"Do not worry. It's just me ", Michael said so quietly that it was almost a whisper.

Elizabeth just nodded. "How are you? You are so quiet."

"Quite alright. Could be better, could be worse... I think' I'm currently stressing meself too much and putting myself under too much pressure…"

"I understand…"

"'ow are ya? It's definitely not easy as a captain."

Michael had to smile a little: "Given the circumstances, I'm fine ... Really."

He sat down next to her and handed her something dark. "Here."

Elizabeth accepted the ball with a frown. It was a thick fabric, she could say that much.

"What's this?"

"A new uniform for you. I think it will fit. And if not, we can definitely find another one your size."

The young woman unfolded the fabric and held it up to the light of the fire. The uniform appeared to be new, which surprised her, and there was also a bandage with the red cross on it. "Why?" She asked without looking away.

"Your, or Bert's, uniform is pretty tattered and you need new clothes and some to change. Besides," he held out a small sign," she's all yours now. "

When Liz took the sign, she saw E. Alfred engraved on it. It was a name tag!

"I had one of our men do it who is very skilled at things like these. Unfortunately not as clean as it was done in peace, but in times like these you have to improvise. "

She was so touched by the gesture that she gave Michael a big hug. "Thank ya…"

He didn't know exactly why, but immediately Michael felt responsible for Elizabeth. Maybe for Mary Poppins and Bert's sake, knowing from Jane that the two of them were incredibly worried about the young woman?
He was sure that he would do everything in his power to protect her. And he already had a plan.

Over 3,200 words! :D
I'm always proud of myself when I write more than 1,500 words haha

I hope you enjoyed this longer chapter :)
As always, I would be very happy about your reviews :)

Please stay healthy!