Come Home Soon (2 page)

Ellie and Jack caught each other's eye and burst out laughing all over again.

“You two should be nice to poor Miss Webb. She's a lonely old thing.”

Suddenly the church bells started to ring across the square, making all three of them jump. They moved to stand in the doorway in time to see a group of older village lads marching past in a rough semblance of a formation of soldiers, whistling “It's a Long Way to Tipperary”. A gaggle of smaller boys, including Jack's little brother George, followed in their wake, blowing whistles and banging drums. George turned and waved when he saw them, before returning to his furious drumming.

“Goodness knows where he got that thing!” Mabel Scott laughed.

More and more people were spilling out into the square, drawn by the commotion and the promise of gossip. Before long most of the village was there. It felt like Christmas. Voices thrummed, shouts and laughter punctured the air.

Ellie felt a wave of excitement coursing through her, which turned into giddiness as Jack seized her by the waist and spun her round and round until they were both laughing hysterically. As he set her down, the familiar faces danced and swam before her eyes, the square tilting tipsily as though she were on a fairground ride.

Jack was right. She had wanted something to happen – something that mattered – for so long. And here it was at last!

Three

“Come on then, Ellie. We've got a couple of hours before dinner and I want to make the most of them.”

Ellie glanced once more at her mother, still expecting her permission to be withdrawn. But for once she hadn't been able to find fault with Ellie's chores, and she struggled to remain disagreeable in the face of her husband's enthusiasm.

“Off you go then. But I want you home to help with Charlie's bath later.” Her expression was cool but at least she didn't seem annoyed.

Ellie didn't need to be told again. She barrelled past her father and out into the sunshine, feeling as though she'd escaped from prison.

Her father followed, laughing, then hurried to the shed to pull out their bicycles.

“You're even keener than me, I think!”

Ellie smiled at him but didn't reply. She had tried often enough to talk to her father about Mother. He was sympathetic, but he just didn't understand. Ellie knew how much he loved her mother and she expected that was why he couldn't grasp her frustration. And she hated to upset him.

“What are you thinking about, old girl?” her father asked as he passed her bicycle over, lightly knocking on the top of her head with his knuckles as he did so.

“Nothing.” She beamed at him again. Ellie liked nothing better than to spend time alone with her father, to get him all to herself. “Where shall we go first?”

“Let's call by the library to see who's there. Then, though it pains me to say it, I think at this hour on a Friday, the pub might be our best bet.”

As they pedalled past leafy hedgerows, under arching tree branches and into the village – at a much more sedate pace than when she was with Jack – Ellie asked her father more about the war, what had led to it and what it would mean for them all. They had begun to talk about it many times before at home, but Mother always said that Ellie was involving herself in things that didn't concern her. It was easier when she wasn't there.

Now, as they rode along Father attempted an explanation of the events that had caused the war: complex alliances between the European powers, the growing threat of German military might and the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Serbia. It was all a bit of a mess, he admitted that, but he was very clear that Britain owed a duty to her friends to stand beside them against the bullying of the Kaiser. It was simply the right thing to do.

As he had promised, Father had signed up to join the army at the earliest opportunity and had spent every spare moment going round the village urging the other local men to do the same. Ellie still couldn't bear the thought of him leaving, but he was certainly persuasive. She had begun to wish she could join up herself, rather than being stuck at home, left behind as usual.

As they approached the library, Ellie recognized Jack's lanky frame standing outside. He was staring fixedly at something on the wall. Ellie and her father called out to him. Jack glanced round for long enough to throw a distracted wave in their direction, before turning back to look at the wall. As they pulled up behind him, they saw that the object of his intense concentration was a huge poster bearing the face of Lord Kitchener, the famous army officer, his expression fierce beneath his bushy brow and moustache, his finger stabbing out towards them.

BRITONS! YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU! it proclaimed.

Without taking his eyes away, Jack whispered, “I swear, he's pointing right at me!”

Ellie's father laughed loudly, clapping Jack on the back. “I don't think he can hear you, lad!”

The village library had been turned into a recruitment office for the army, and as they stood teasing Jack, the doors opened and Stephen Chase and Billie Farrow emerged. The two boys had been a few years ahead of Ellie and Jack at school, until they had left at twelve to start work in the factory. Jack had followed them when he turned twelve four years later. Since they left school, they'd got taller and broader; Billie had an impressive shadow of stubble, while Stephen was never seen without a cigarette in hand (except when his mother was around). Nonetheless, they never seemed to Ellie to have changed much at all.

“Hello, Dr Phillips!” Billie exclaimed. He was the more chatty of the pair, popular among the young boys of the village, whose football team he coached. “We did like you said. We joined up!”

“Well done, lads, well done. All of Endstone will be very proud of you. All of England!”

Only Jack was scowling. “What changed your mind, Bill?” he asked. “You didn't seem particularly keen earlier!”

“When the doctor told us we could come back to the factory when the war's all over, it sounded all right. I don't want to be in the Army for ever!”

“When it's all over
or
after three years, whichever is the longer,” Wesley corrected him.

“I think I can persuade my Moll to wait that long before we get married. Any longer, though, and she might give up on me!”

“Well, she must understand – and what would she think of you if you didn't go, eh, Billie?” Ellie's father was smiling but his eyes were serious. “Anyway, it should all be behind us by Christmas. She won't have much of a wait.”

Jack was looking at them with such a wistful expression that Ellie felt a little of her earlier queasiness return.

“Don't look so worried, Jackie boy,” Stephen joked, punching him playfully on the shoulder, “we'll have those Germans taken care of before you have to join up.”

“But I
want
to join up!” Jack spluttered in protest.

“Come on, Jack, Ellie,” Dr Phillips intervened, before Jack could get himself worked up again. “Let's call by The Dog and Duck and see if we can't recruit a few more soldiers there.”

Endstone was such a tiny village that Jack often joked that you could stand outside one building and hit any of the others by throwing a coin. The pub was only a few yards away, across the square, a little closer to the sea front. Girls weren't allowed inside, so Ellie and Jack waited by the pretty, painted front door. They watched as Ellie's father entered the gloomy interior, through the blue fog of pipe smoke.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen!” he greeted them loudly.

“Afternoon, Wesley!”

“Good to see you again, Dr Phillips. I'm just on my way home from the recruitment office. Are you pleased with me?”

“Good man, Arthur, good man. But I think your home is the other way!”

A burst of raucous laughter drifted out to Ellie and Jack.

“He hasn't told the missus yet!” called one loud voice.

“Pint of porter, Doctor Phillips?”

“Well, I oughtn't to but . . . I suppose a half wouldn't hurt!”

“Course it wouldn't. Just what the doctor ordered, eh, Doctor?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but Jack was still brooding.

“Those blokes think I'm a coward,” he said gruffly.

“Who?”

“Billie and Steve.”

“Don't be so silly. You're
too young
, Jack. They know your age as well as I do. You wouldn't be allowed!”

“It's so stupid, though. What's age got to do with it? I'm already as tall and strong as Will!”

“Well, what's
height
got to do with it, more to the point?” Ellie laughed, giving him a shove. But Jack did not respond. His gaze went over her head and into the pub behind her, his expression darkening.

Ellie whirled around to see a group of men shuffling uncomfortably around her father. In the smoky darkness at the far end of the bar she recognized Jack's father. His was the voice that they heard now as the others lapsed into an awkward silence.

“I'm wondering who the devil put you in charge of this whole operation, Doctor?” Mr Scott was perched on the very edge of his stool. “What makes you think you can go around bothering men who are tired after an honest week's work?”

Ellie heard Jack's sharp exhalation from behind her and her heart contracted with pity for him. At the same time, she felt her fists tightening as she watched how Mr Scott was looking at her father.

“No one put me in charge, Joe,” Wesley began in a placating tone. His palms were turned towards Joe, his stance relaxed. “I'm just doing my bit to help, that's all. I'm sorry if I disturbed you.”

“You
did
disturb me. You did! What makes you so superior, anyway?”

“Calm down, Joe.” John, the landlord was frowning, shifting from foot to foot behind the bar. “You won't be getting any more pints in this establishment if you're going to carry on like that.”

“What does he expect would happen if we all did like he said?” Joe clearly wasn't finished. His whole body seemed to vibrate with tension. “Who'd run the factory and work the farms, if we all upped and went to France?”

“Stop it, Dad. You're making a spectacle of yourself.” Ellie hadn't noticed Jack's older brother, Will, until he appeared from the other side of the bar, where he'd been sitting with some other young men.

“Again,” added Jack.

“Not to worry, lads, not to worry,” Ellie's father said, his tone even. “I'd best be off home for tea, anyway. I'm sorry to have given offence, Joe.”

Mr Scott grunted. He settled back on his bar stool as Dr Phillips rejoined Ellie and Jack outside.

They all looked at each other in silence for a moment. Before the silence could be broken, they were joined by Will.

“Dr Phillips, do you have a moment?” Will's freckled cheeks were still hot with embarrassment. “Oh, hello, Jack. Hello, Ellie.”

“Don't you think you'd better get Dad home before he shames us all more?” said Jack, staring pointedly at his brother.

Will barely gave him a glance. “Can't you do it? I want to talk to Dr Phillips.”

“Your father will be fine, boys. John will send him on his way soon. Now, what did you want to talk to me about, Will?”

“It's about the army, sir.”

“What about it? And please don't call me sir.”

The thought of referring to Ellie's father as anything other than sir seemed to momentarily flummox Will. It was a few seconds before he recovered himself sufficiently to continue.

“Er . . . yes, sir. Well, I mean. . .” He took a breath. “I'm going to join up. At least, I want to. At least, I think I do.”

“For pity's sake,” Jack growled, before Ellie shushed him.

“It's all right, Will. It's a daunting prospect, I know.”

“I'm no coward, si— doctor.”

Jack snorted.

“I want to do my bit, I really do. But . . . I know it won't be just playing soldiers, like Jack thinks.”

“I do not!” Jack exploded.

Ellie took hold of his elbow to pull him away.

“Of course not,” Dr Phillips said soothingly, somehow managing to make both brothers feel as though he were speaking to them. “No, it's not a game. You can be sure that the Germans will be taking it very seriously and so should you. There will be danger. But don't you face danger every day in the factory?”

“I suppose so.”

“And this is an opportunity to be part of something big, something important – to change history. And to see something more of the world. I believe it could be the making of you, Will.”

“Well, I suppose you're right.”

“Of course he's right!” Jack bellowed. “Oh, it's just not fair! If I were your age, Will, I wouldn't be standing around here wasting time and bothering Dr Phillips. I'd be first in line at the recruitment office!”

Ellie couldn't hold her thoughts in any longer. “You should think yourself lucky you're not a girl,” she snapped. The three men looked at her in surprise. Jack was finally silent.

How she would love to see the world, to do something important. But even if she were old enough, still there would be no chance of adventure for her. She was stuck here, no matter what.

Four

Ellie seized Baby Charlie's small squirming form and carried him, still struggling, into the dark interior of the church. She shivered; even on a warm day at the height of summer, it was always so cold in here.

Charlie gave a happy squeal, as he always did when he remembered how the stone walls echoed his own voice back to him.

“Sssh, sshh,” Ellie urged. Already she could see her mother's back stiffening as she walked up the aisle towards the pew where they always sat.

As Ellie shuffled on to the pew, her mother hissed, “
Please
try to keep him under control. It's humiliating to have him drowning out the reverend.”

“I don't know why you don't look after him yourself if I'm doing such a bad job,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” her mother asked sharply, grey eyes narrowed.

“Nothing, Mother.”

“Where has your father got to now?” her mother craned her neck – her tight bun set low against it – to locate Father, who was deep in conversation with Mr and Mrs Crouch. “Oh, honestly!”

Not for the first time, Ellie pondered how funny it was that her mother cared so much about appearances and was disliked by most of the villagers, while her father didn't care what anyone thought and was universally loved.

Eventually he joined them on their pew near the front, tickling Charlie and setting him squealing again, just as they rose for Reverend Chester.

Ellie wriggled uncomfortably in her stiff Sunday dress, which she had almost out grown, as the vicar began his sermon. Like everything else these days, it seemed, the subject was the war.

“And the people of Endstone are hugely proud that so many of our brave men have already signed up to go and fight for King and country. You will be in our thoughts and prayers every moment, as will all your fellow countrymen.”

And in Germany too,
Ellie found herself thinking.
Surely the Germans are praying to the same God to take care of their sons and brothers and make
them
victorious?
She was then surprised by the thought.
How can He choose? If He protects the soldiers on both sides then no one will ever win. But if He favours one, then He must not be listening to the prayers of the other.
She felt the start of a headache and tugged at the collar of her dress. Her mother glowered.

Ellie knew that she couldn't raise these questions with her parents, not even with her father. He was so convinced of the justice of going to war. Maybe he would consider it blasphemous to be thinking this way. She glanced at him. His expression was serious as he nodded along to the Reverend Chester's words.

Ellie's gaze wandered and came to rest on the motes of dust that hovered in the shafts of coloured light streaming through the stained glass windows. She had been coming to this church with her family every Sunday for her whole life. How strange to think that in a few weeks, she, her mother and Charlie would be here without her father. She shook away the thought. It wouldn't be for long, she told herself.

When the service was over, they filtered out into the watery daylight. Ellie looked past the square to the grey sea beyond. The breeze held the slightest mist of sea water; she could taste the salt on her lips. It was all so familiar; it looked just the same as always, yet everything was changing.

Her mother had cornered Reverend Chester and they were deep in conversation by the door of the church. He was the one villager she was always happy to speak with. Her father was talking to Will Scott. Will had signed up. They were leaving to begin their training in a matter of days.

Charlie was once again scampering around the gravestones at the side of the church. Ellie glanced anxiously at her mother, but she was still engrossed in conversation, so she felt safe letting her brother play. As she trailed behind Charlie, she passed the Parkes family, who owned one of the farms on the outskirts of the village. Mrs Parkes was red-faced, whispering urgently to their oldest son, Harry.

“Plenty of men are staying behind. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about it.”

“Were you listening to that sermon?” Harry snapped in response, barely bothering to lower his voice. “It's my duty!”

“Your duty is to your family, to our business. . .”

Ellie kept walking, embarrassed to have eavesdropped on a family row, and wondering how many conversations like that were happening in families all over the country.

 

Back at home that afternoon, Ellie was playing with Charlie in the bedroom they shared. His soldiers were doing battle with her old porcelain doll, who was a giant next to them. Charlie didn't really understand the details of the game, but he loved it when she made his soldiers shout, “Charge!” and gallop towards the poor besieged doll.

“Daddy's going to be just like one of your soldiers, Charlie. He's going to be a real hero.”

“Dada!” Charlie agreed solemnly, before removing the soldier from Ellie's hand, clearly feeling she wasn't playing right. As he thudded it around the floor with his right hand, his left, clutching his tattered teddy, crept towards his mouth. He was teething again.

Ellie's laughter died in her throat as she heard voices raised from downstairs.

“. . .want to? But you must see that there's no other choice.”

Her father.

Ellie shuffled closer to her open door in time to hear her mother's voice in response.

“. . .simply concerned about what will happen to your practice and your patients here. You have responsibilities to them too, you know, Wesley.”

“Of course I do. I know I do. But I have a responsibility to set an example. And Thomas won't be joining up – not through lack of trying, poor chap, but it's an impossibility with that leg of his.”

“Thomas is barely out of medical school,” Mother replied, her voice becoming shrill in a way that was all too familiar to Ellie. “To all intents and purposes, he is still your apprentice.”

“He is a very competent doctor. He simply needs an opportunity to prove himself. I think this will be an ideal chance for him to develop.”

Her mother began to speak again, but her father cut across her. “And I would like you to support him in this, Josephine, let him know that you are available for whatever practical help or advice he may need.”

“Me?”

“Yes. We must all do our bit.”

“So you keep saying. But I hardly know what practical help I could offer.”

“Oh, I think after being a doctor's wife for fourteen years, you know as much as, if not more than, me.”

Ellie could hear the teasing smile creeping into her father's voice. He obviously felt the conversation was over.

Not so her mother. “I'm already trying to cope with running the household without Alice. Now we're to make do without you,
and
you want me help Thomas.”

“Frances will be here as often as she can.” He ignored the loud – and rather unladylike, thought Ellie – harrumphing sound from his wife. “And our little Ellie, of course.”

Ellie moved away from the door before she could hear her mother's response to this. There were some things she didn't need to listen to. But her head was buzzing with questions. Where exactly would her father be going? He'd told her he would be in a foot regiment, but what did that mean? Would it be dangerous?

Of course it will be dangerous
, she thought,
the Germans will be shooting at him. Why would they care that he is a doctor and a good man?

There was a sharp tug at her ankle. She looked down to see Charlie thrusting a soldier at her, a fierce scowl on his round face.

“Sorry, Charlie!” she sighed, re-entering her own miniature battlefield.