1 October 1914

Elizabeth Scott hung back from the group slightly, watching the bustling platform. A week ago, almost all the men in Small Health had queued half-way around the block to get into the town hall to swear an oath to King and God, receiving a pressed uniform, a clap on the shoulder and their mother or lover sobbing in their arms when they got back home. And now it was time for them to leave.

At one end of the smoky platform workers were running about, barking orders and heaving heavy crates, filled with supplies and covered in large lettering reading LONDON or DOVER, their stop on the way to the final destination coming to a close. Two carriages were dedicated to the freight and it was in and out of these that the men pushed the boxes, weaving through the crowded platform.

A carriage along was empty, the nurses set to board it still waiting on the platform, white pinafores tied in a bow on their back and fabric suitcases clasped in their hands. Their voices bubbled through the crowd and into her ears, sounding of excitement and nerves, fresh out of nursing school and straight to the front lines. Elizabeth dreaded what waited for these young, well-bred women.

The rest of the train was reserved purely for the hundreds of enlisted soldiers at the station, already bursting from the seams as men hung out of the windows and doors to call and sing, to kiss their wives goodbye and wipe the tears from their mother's cheeks. Her attention moved away from the wider platform and focused on her group that stood on the east side of the platform, like needles in a haystack. John was standing away slightly to say his own private goodbye to Martha and the kids, three young children hanging off their parent's waists, a fourth on the way that he wasn't likely to be home to see born. She took note of the smiles stretched across their cheeks, but twelve years of knowing John and Martha, fellow school mates since age seven, told her that it was just a show; it was a way to calm the babies and their uncertainty and lack of understanding as to why Father was leaving. Looking to the right, Elizabeth watched as Arthur took turns hugging his younger siblings, laughing at Finn's joke and kissing the tears from Ada's cheeks. She had already said goodbye to John and Arthur, the boy's time spread thin as they tried to wish each member of the group farewell.

"I'll see you soon Arthur, alright." Elizabeth had kissed his cheek and squeezed his hands, tears falling from her eyes, "just try not to come home with a pretty French whore on your arm, we all know what you're like." He'd roared with laughter at that, lifting her of her feet in a warm hug,

"Stop those tears Eliza, they're not necessary," He kissed her knuckles, "I'll miss you."

She'd wiped her tears away at his request and passed Arthur over to Polly, moving along to say goodbye to John. Their relationship was rarely smooth to say the least. The last twelve years had been spent fighting and arguing and tugging at each other's hair since they had first met in the school playground, but that didn't mean she loved him any less than the others, that her heart didn't ache as he walked over to Elizabeth with a weak smile on his face.

"Eliza," he sighed, pulling her into a hug, "I love you and I'll miss you."

That was enough for the tears to fall again, sobbing into his shoulder at the same time as kicking his foot. She pulled back to cup his face in her hands,

"I know our relationship is rough John, but I do, truly love you and I need you to come home quick," she kissed his cheek and stood back, grasping his wrist before he moved away to Martha, "otherwise who will I have that takes my punches quite so spectacularly as you, hey?"

And then John was gone as well, slipping from her fingers like sand. And so she stood back, focusing on any part of the world around her except her final goodbye. Polly was crying into his arms, her shoulders shaking, her hair blocking his face from her view. But before long Polly had untangled herself, wiping her cheeks and smiling over her shoulder at Elizabeth as she moved to the side. Tommy walked to her, intertwining his fingers with hers like the vines that wrapped around the oak tree by the Cut, the one they so often sat beneath on summer evenings. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

Elizabeth had first met Tommy twelve years ago, brought to his house one Saturday evening to play with John. Polly had been keen to link her blood family, her nieces and nephews, with the melancholy children she'd been looking after since the death of their mother, a close friend of Polly's and from the same group of travellers. Elizabeth had quickly realised that John wasn't worth her time and that he was actually quite annoying, but the attention of her seven-year-old self had been utterly encapsulated by Tommy's twelve-year-old self as he walked into the living room. They had hardly separated since, at each other's sides through thick and thin. When his mother died and his father left, when her father had passed away nearly two years ago, leaving Elizabeth and her brother, George, orphaned. He'd even stood by her side, hand in hand, as she waved goodbye to her brother from this very platform, George signing up in the beginning weeks of the war.

It was no secret to either of them, or anyone in fact, that their love had been more than a friendly affection in these last years, blossoming between the two with nothing ever really being said or done. It took her brother leaving, however, to have brought them even closer together, making the last few months of hell almost bearable. They had danced all night on weekends, hands intertwined or wrapped around waists, sharing glasses of whiskey and gin. He'd waited outside The Garrison at the end of her shifts, tucking auburn hair behind Elizabeth's ear, a thumb skating daringly down her cheekbone. In return she'd arrived at the betting house, in the evenings after teaching at the local school, to kiss Tommy's cheek and eat dinner with him. But they had never even talked about these feelings, about these daring touches and secret glances. They had certainly never kissed. That meant it wasn't like she was losing a sweetheart, Elizabeth tried to tell herself. Except it tore at her heart and twisted her gut exactly like she was losing just that.

"Look at me Liza," he whispered softly, the version of her name reserved only for him, "let's get away for a minute, ey?"

He led her a few yards away from the group, exactly like Martha and John she thought, and brought her hands to his lips.

"I don't think I can, Tommy," she replied, voice breaking, "if I look at you I'll cry and I'll beg you to never leave me and that's not fair."

"Please." He brought his fingers to her chin and tilted her face up to look at his. Tommy's hair was tucked beneath a green hat, but she knew it was shorter than it had ever been, the sides of his head shaven thin, his face bare. She bit back the tears, her teeth tearing at her lips until she was certain they would begin to bleed. It was in that position that they stood for a few heartbeats, silent words spoken through the glints of their eyes, the tug of his small smile and the lowering of her eyebrows.

"I got something for you," he finally said, "I don't know if you'll like it, Polly said you would, but you know what she's like, winding me up and that, and if you don't like it that's alright, but it's just, I guess, it's just something to remember me by, yeah, because we'll probably be gone a while longer than they say, you know, and if I don't-"

The words spilt out of his mouth in a waterfall, dripping with embarrassment and desperation, but they faded out in the end as he realised she was going to say nothing in return, unable to find her voice. So instead Tommy pressed a cold, metal object into Elizabeth's hands, pulled her into a crushing hug, kissed her cheek and walked back to the others.

She followed slowly, inspecting the gift he'd given to her, unaware of the whistle calling all the men to the train. The cool metal was gold, a little tri-fold picture frame the size of her hand that she unclasped at the side. It opened up to reveal the inside, made of the same yellow metal but with a white ceramic border that circled each frame, white lilies and green vines printed on top. There were two pictures inside, ones she recognised well.

Yesterday evening there had been a village fair on the green as a send-off for the boys, with music and dancing and even a photography stand. Tommy had dragged her over in the evening, wrapping his hands around her waist and smiling at the camera. The photographer took one photo, the smoke from the camera billowing into the clear sky, and was about to take another when Tommy whispered something in her ear that had meant she'd thrown her head back in laughter as the second flash went off. She had hardly even thought about what he would do with the photos, until they shone back up at her from the frames. The photo on the left had them both smiling into the camera but the one of the far right featured her laughing, Tommy's eyes gazing fondly down at her, a smile playing on his own face. It made her heart flutter. The frame in the middle held only a piece of yellowing paper, with the words:

'I'll come home so we can fill this empty frame,
All my love,
Tommy.'

And then Elizabeth was looking up, the frame tucked hastily into her coat pocket as she sought out the fading backs of the Shelby brothers through the crowd. Tears clouded her vision but she ran forward anyway, pushing through the people in front of her despite protests and cries of outrage. She called his name, over and over, praying he'd turn back. And he did, smiling in amusement and confusion as she drew nearer, arms outstretched slightly to hug her.

But she didn't hug him.

Instead she threw herself at Tommy, hands around his neck and lips clashing with his. She pressed herself against him hungrily, salty tears mixing with their kiss, his hands fixed firmly on her waist. Elizabeth's lungs shrieked in pain as all her breath left her, but she refused to back down, until Tommy pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. The kiss had spoken a thousand words; it meant that he didn't need to ask her to wait for him anymore, it meant that Elizabeth didn't need to beg him to come home to her, the message that both of them needed so desperately after months and years of ignoring the calls from their hearts.

"Don't go," she cried, clinging onto his neck, eyes pressed shut.

"I have to Liza," Tommy said, removing his hands from her waist and taking hers from around his neck, but still keeping their foreheads pressed together, "I love you."

"I love you too."

And then he was gone, running to jump on the train as the doors began to shut, Arthur and John pulling him up. Once he was safely onboard, door shut behind him, he pushed the window down, leaning out to wave goodbye. Her eyes didn't leave his as the train started moving, her feet running down the platform as far as she could go until he was gone, round a bend, lost from her, the feel of his lips on hers that Monday afternoon burnt into memory.

Polly had found Elizabeth still standing there, minutes after the train had gone and the platform had started to empty. She guided her away gently, whispering an 'I told you so' into her ear, the two of them joined by Ada and Finn as they returned home. But by the time she was sat at the Shelby's kitchen table, mug of tea in hand, Elizabeth could feel the taste of his lips on hers fading, the Tommy that had kissed her that day slipping away from them all.

I hope you liked this first chapter! I can't promise frequent updates but I'll do my best, much love,

e x

(28/03/2020)