When Papa had found out that Edith was having an affair with a married man, he had looked at her as if she was insane. As it was, Edith rather suspected he was true.
None of their conscription notices had arrived. Many men were volunteering and Tom had guessed that the army were saving paper by only writing notices for the people who had to be forced.
"But they can't want Robert!" Cora cried, "He has already served his time. And he is far too old,"
"Thanks," Robert muttered.
Matthew and Tom glanced at each other uneasily.
"He may be allowed to stay home," Matthew said, "But it is highly unlikely I'm afraid,"
"You should prepare yourself for the worse," Tom added.
"And so should you," Matthew said, taking Mary into his arms.
Edith watched as the family stood with ashen faces. Cora embraced Robert tightly and Robert placed a fatherly hand on Tom's shoulder. Mary and Matthew stood close, Mary weeping into Matthew's chest and Matthew with his head buried in Mary's hair. Robert stood by a candle that cast deathly shadows across his face, as if he were already a corpse.
Edith felt as if she were going to be sick.
"Papa?" she whispered softly.
"Go to bed Edith," Robert snapped gruffly, not looking her in the eye.
Edith slowly turned and left the family to comfort themselves. Numbly she made her way up the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her. She sat on the stool in front of her mirror and stared at he reflection. She knew she lacked her mother and sisters' full lips and wide eyes. Mary had made many a comment on how similar Edith looked to a boy.
And then it happened. That tiny thought like a seed grew and grew. She knew there was no chance Papa would be let off. The Dalek army was so large and ferocious their own army would get anyone they could. Except women. Except for healthy, intelligent women who would be willing to defend their families and country as opposed to letting their elderly fathers be slaughtered. For some reason, something about their rule didn't quite add up.
Edith blinked. She couldn't... could she? If she left tonight; before anyone realised, and cut off her hair. If she turned up at the camp and called herself Edward Crawley and if through some miracle she was believed... could she get away with it?
Edith had no false vanity. She knew Papa would be missed more than her. Whereas Papa was the center of their family, Edith herself could be cut away with ease. And if she survived.. if she came back a hero, all would be forgiven. Childish thoughts which entered into the mind of every child who had been forgotten and neglected to the point they considered running away flashed through Edith's head. If she came back a hero Mama and Papa would cry and pull her into their embrace. Mary would finally respect her or at least would be shut down every time she opened her mouth to insult her.
Edith was the daughter of an Earl. She had grown up with tales of dashing knights and heroic battles. Nasty bits of reality such as death and disease had never entered the bubble she and her sisters were kept in since birth. She was in no way prepared for what going to war would truly bring. And maybe; if she had know the true horrors that awaited her, her decision that night would have been a very different one. But no. She was an innocent. And so she took up her sewing scissors and cut off her hair with a surprisingly calm and steady hand.
"Yes," Edith thought, "Definitely insane,"