1916

That lonesome bird greets the most beautiful dawn I've ever witnessed. The sky is alight with the most beautiful purples, oranges and reds I've ever seen.

"See Jimmy?" Luke says softly. "That's because Tommy's made it home. He's painted the whole sky."

A silent sob wracks Jimmy's body as we stare down at the small patch of upturned earth and simple wooden cross.

This is the last we'll see of him. We won't return to see the white stone they place here, emblazoned with Tommy's name and his short life. We couldn't, even if we survive long enough. Seeing his stone amongst countless others would take something from him. He'd just be the same as everyone else, just another dead solider, not our little Tommy who loved to draw, who was always so brave even when he was terrified.
This little cross is more authentic, it wasn't paid for by faceless people who pretend to mourn him.

Jimmy steps forward and clumsily pulls an envelope from his pocket. Tommy's last letter from his mother. It arrived yesterday.

Kneeling slowly, Jimmy shakily scrapes back a handful of earth and presses the letter down into the mud before covering it again. He stays on his knees between us, his huge hands covering him face in a heart wrenching display of silent grief.

"Mark my words, I'll kill that bastard officer with my own hands. I swear." Luke says bitterly.

I nod dumbly and place my hand on Jimmy's shoulder. The guilt has eaten away at me for the past week. It's my fault he was on watch, my fault he was sent out.

"Stop it Harry." Luke says softly. "If you do that then you'll just destroy yourself. That's what he wants."

The first rays on sunlight creep towards us and Luke speaks again.

"We've got to leave you here little lad." He says gently. "But you'll always be with us, no matter where we go. If ever we feel alone or sad, we'll remember that somewhere we have a brave, kind friend who's waiting to see us again."

Long minutes pass before Jimmy slowly stands.

"There's no priest to say anything." He says thickly. Luke, non religious as he is, is the only one of us who is capable of clear speech. He pauses for a moment before speaking quietly;

"And at the gates of heaven, To Saint Peter he will tell, One more solider reporting sir, I've served my time in hell."

***

"How long is this for then?"

Luke takes a long drink from his mug as he looks over at me.

"I don't know. Sergeant Johnson was furious. He's reported Darlington."

"That won't do anything." Luke waves the barman over and watches as he pours him another beer.

"I suppose." I shrug, drawing deeply on my cigarette. "He's alright though, Johnson."

"They're all the same if you ask me." Luke says darkly and despite the horrors of the past week, I can't help but smile. Luke's distrust and hatred of authoritative figures is so ingrained that I sometimes think an officer could save his mothers life and he'd still find a reason to call him a bastard.

At Sergeant Johnsons demand we have been released on a couple of days leave, we're long overdue as it is. The nearest town isn't much but it feels like heaven compared to the frontline.

"So what's Johnson going to do then? Overrule his commanding officer?"

"He's reported Darlington-"

"Huh. Fat lot of good that'll do." Luke laughs.

"It's brave of him." I say quietly. "He doesn't have any reason to defend us, especially when it'll just shift Darlington's anger towards himself, he's not getting anything from it. He's a good man."

"Jimmy still in his room?" Luke asks suddenly.

"Yeah. Just leave him. Writing letters to Ellen always calms him down. He'll be alright."

Luke nods and turns round, resting his elbows on the bar. A couple of soldiers call over to him and he waves, taking another sip of his drink, as if he hasn't a care in the world.

"How do you think you'll manage?" I ask suddenly.

"What?" He glances at me, pushing a strand of bright blond hair from his eyes.

"Just..." I stop, trying to articulate what I want to ask. "When we get home-"

"Well that's the future. If I get home and Coleen hasn't shacked up with some other fella I guess I'll be alright." He grins. I nod slowly and a small frown twists his face. "Harry, I've been in plenty of situations that I shouldn't have survived in my time, this is just another thing to get through. It's awful, it's the worst, but if you live too much in your own head you drown in your thoughts and no one can save you from that. That's your problem. People like me and you are survivors. I don't care enough and you care too much, but we make it work for us. I survive by not giving a rats arse about anything, you survive by cutting yourself off and watching everything."

He gestures for another drink then turns back to me.

"When we leave? I don't know. Reckon I'll rely a bit too heavily on this," he gestures to his drink, "and you'll survive the rest of your life the way you have up to now, by shutting it out and keeping it all in. We'll never be the same as we were, but we'll manage. We have too. We're survivors cut from a different type of cloth. It's Jimmy I worry about."

"Jimmy?" I frown. "But Jimmy's the type that's always happy, he can overcome anything-"

"Not really. Jimmy's a happy soul, he wants to be happy. You and I understand that we have to shut this down when we leave. Lock it in a part of our mind that we don't enter. Jimmy's an open book, he isn't able to do that. He lives his life on a single plain and he can't separate things. He can't just pretend Tommy didn't die the way you and I are right now, he couldn't just see you or me die and lock it away in his mind. Ill be honest with you Harry, the best thing that could happen to him is that he's injured enough to be discharged. He could live his life with a disability... How he cope with more years of war and loss of friends... I just don't know."

I stare at Luke and he gives me a half smile. I realise, sickeningly that he's right.

"I don't know how much longer he'll last anyway, not with that arsewipe Darlington after him." Luke grimaces. "That bastard wants to take everything that you care about from you, just because Tommy is gone it doesn't mean Jimmy is safe."

A loud argument breaks out at nearby table and Luke gives a small laugh. "Coming for a game of cards Harry?"

I shake my head and he pats my shoulder then walks into the group, laughing as they all cheer his arrival.

There's a small table in the corner and I claim it, drawing my gaze to the street outside. The dark December night is drawing close and women are beginning to walk the streets. Money is scarce and many women are selling the one thing many soldiers miss from home in exchange for a few coins.

My mind drifts to Evelyn. I wonder where she is? After meeting him properly I know Darlington could never have given her happiness. I hope she's somewhere safe. I wonder if those sunlit days long past haunt her as much as they do me. I feel a twist in my stomach at the memories. Her long thick hair on my chest. Her soft kisses. She torments me, those days may be long gone but I'm still living them.

I realise with shock that I'm staring down into a pair of dark eyes, so dark they're almost black.

A girl walking the streets outside has caught my eye. Something about the way she gazes at me makes me pause. The wind sweeps up from behind her and her long black curls swirl about her face. She doesn't break her stare, she doesn't beckon me towards her, she simply looks up at me-

"Private Styles." A hand claps down on my shoulder and I jump, turning quickly to the source. When I glance back the girl is walking away, pulling her shawl tightly to thin body.

"Sergeant Johnson." I make to stand and salute but he pushes me back down.

"No need for that here, Harry." He places a mug of beer in front of me and sits slowly opposite me. He's not a tall man and he has a worn looking face, prematurely aged by stress.

"Thank you sir." I pull the drink towards me, overcome by a sudden urge to feel tipsy. Luke's loud laughter travels across the bar towards us.

"Styles." He wipes his face with a handkerchief. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you sir." I lie. He nods distractedly.

"Terrible business about that young chap. Neeson." He says shaking his head. "Too many losses in the last battle but that was wholly uncalled for. The poor lad should have been resting."

"Yes sir." I dare to agree with him, not caring that it contradicts my officers orders.

"As you know Styles I reported that bloody officer, if he's even worthy of that title." He shakes his head and sips his beer, leaving a small line of foam on his tache. He leans forward and speaks lowly. "Between you and me, I'm sick of them. I've been in service for 20 years. This bloody war is the worst thing that's happened to our army, the ranks are suddenly full of idiots like him who've bought an officers position and have no clue what they're doing, sending young lads out to die pointlessly." He shakes his head sadly. "Rather think I'm not cut out for this war Styles. I've seen death but this is just waste, sheer disregard for life."

There's a silence before he speaks again.

"I'm being moved on, up to Normandy." He says suddenly. "Demoted. Apparently Lord bloody Darlington is to have free reign and he's not going to answer for what he did."

I stare over at him, watching as his mouth downturns unhappily.

"I'm sorry Styles. I tried to speak out. Seems money speaks louder. I'm not to make a fuss, they've told me to move on."

"Thank you sir." I say quietly. "There aren't many of your rank who would speak out for an injustice against us."

"Life is too important to waste." He gazes our is the window. "I suppose I thought I could help. But I can't."

He gives me a small, sad smile and begins to stand. Before I can think I lean forward and grab his arm.

"Sir... Please. I know you've tried to help and I'm so sorry for what you've lost. I have just one more request to make sir."

"What is it?" He frowns.

I take a deep breath then say the words before I can talk myself out of it.

"Please sir... Can Private Hainsworth be moved to a different battalion?"

"Jimmy?" His eyes widen in surprise. "You want young James to be moved away from you?"

"Not away from me, away from Darlington, sir."

He looks at me and his face creases into a frown.

"I think... I think I could arrange that Styles."

I look up at him and realise how angry Jimmy would be if he knew.

A second passes in which I could withdraw my request.

"Thank you sir." I say quietly.

Johnson nods and moves away to the bar. I need to leave.

I've just asked that Jimmy be moved away. To fight elsewhere, without me or Luke. I may never see him again.

But it's for his own good.

The air is harsh on my chest and I turn quickly down the street, almost colliding with the girl pacing outside. I grab her arm to stop her slipping on the ice and her hand grabs my jacket to steady herself.

It's the same girl I stared at through the window earlier. Her deep black eyes meet mine questioningly.

"Excuse me." I say softly, releasing her arm.

"Monsieur." She glances up at me through thick eyelashes. She doesn't loosen her grip on my jacket.

She's not a beggar, she's far too well dressed and well fed. She loosens her hand and I begin to walk down the cold streets towards my quarters.

Did I make a mistake? No. It's better than Jimmy leaves, but the loss of him, along with the loss of Tommy is surely more than a mans heart can be expected to bear.

How I long for Evie. She always knew what to say. Where others see a reserved man with nothing to say, she always saw what was within me, she knew the answer to my questions before I could even form them.

"It seems to me that  you are very troubled Monsieur."

The heavily accented voice comes from beside me and I turn in surprise to find the girl still following me.

"Perhaps." I smile weakly. "But I'm not willing to pay to lose my troubles for an hour. Forgive me, but I'm sure you'll find more willing men than I leaving the bar shortly."

The girl stares up at me, those inky eyes fixed on my face.

"No doubt." She says. She doesn't move.

"Why are you following me?"

"You look like you needed company. I waited for you."

"You waited in vain." I turn to unlock the door and to my surprise she steps in with me.

"No. I did not."

I have no fight within me. Perhaps I just need the softness of flesh when I've spent so long in a world of brutality.I don't object as she follows me down the hall and into my room. I don't object when she drops her shawl and unlaces her dress.

"What is your name?" I whisper.

She glances over she shoulder, across her thick curls of hair.

"Antoinette."

She walks over to the bed and I can't stop myself, I lose myself in the softness of her, the smoothness of her skin and gentle caresses. And when I call Evelyn's name against her skin she just pulls me tighter towards her.

***

Evelyn

1916

The worst thing about life on the estate is the constant trace of Harry.

My arms now ache for two children, Adeline and Bobby, but as much so for Harry. Every place here is a reminder of him, of his kisses and gentle caresses. Of his quiet strength.

Robert warned me that he would hunt us down, he would find us but that was before the war.

Now everything has changed. The war has altered everything and if I can find Harry, if he still wants me, we can go, no one would ever find us.

My mother cried and threatened me. It was my father, to my surprise, who quietly agreed with me. I was always his precious daughter but the marriage he forced me into has caused a gaping wound between that I don't think can ever be repaired. He knows it too and the change in my and unhappiness in my eyes pains him. He has ceased to ask who fathered my child and it was with tears in his eyes that he bade me do whatever would make me happy.

In a fortnight I'll be working as a nurse in France. And the devil try and stop me... I will find Harry.

I made a terrible mistake for which we've both paid a terrible price. I only pray that he will forgive me.

***

Dedicated to Marianarla  ❤️❤️

Sorry I've been a crap wattpader lately, I've just been working up to 12 hours a day.. I'm so tired 😭