As I Lay Dying

Twelve

1916

Jimmy listens in silence as I finish talking.

"I'm sorry Harry." His voice is thick. "No wonder you're so sad. Even if you'd got to hold her, just once."

We sit quietly. I don't want to talk about all the hours I've dreamt about holding my daughter in my arms, the kisses I wished I'd pressed to her tiny face.

"Did you ever see Evelyn again?"

"No." I inhale to deeply at my cigarette and give a strangled cough. Jimmy raises a huge hand to pat me heavily on the back.

"Jeez, are you trying to break my spine?" I laugh at the accidental force behind his hand.

Before he can answer, we become aware of a commotion a little further down the trench. A young soldier I know by sight is running, looking almost as if he's trying not to cry.

It's fairly common knowledge amongst us that he's only 15, he lied about his age to sign up a couple of months ago after his brother had died. God knows how he got away with it, he barely looks 13.

"Steady..." Jimmy grabs him as he makes to run past us. "What's the matter lad?"

He stares up at Jimmy, utterly terrified.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Before the boy can speak, Private Goodham runs round the corner, accompanied by another sly looking soldier. The boy whimpers and pulls closer to Jim.

"What's going on here?" Jimmy glares down at Goodham.

"Nothing. We was just looking for the boy." Goodhams grin slips off his face as he eyes up Jimmy's huge body.

"Well, it happens that he's my sisters kid." Jimmy lies easily. "Any problem you have with him can come to me. What's happened?"

"Oh it's nothing." Goodham slyly eyes Jimmy for a second. Jims obvious strength wins out and he shoots him an ingratiating smile. "We like to look for the kid that's all, isn't it Pauly?"

He nudges the solider next to him and he nods gruffly in agreement.

"Well there's no need. Any problems with him and you come to me, right?" Jim says roughly.

Goodham nods quickly and disappears back down the trench.

"He's trouble that one." I sigh, sitting back down.

"You're not wrong." Jimmy sits heavily next to me, gently extracting Pepper from his pocket. "Sit down kid, we don't bite."

The boy is looks nervously between me and Jim before sinking down opposite us.

"Blimey, you're wet behind the ears aren't you? How old are you, 10?" Jimmy shakes his head.

"I'm 18." The boy answers shakily.

"Right. And I'm the bloody King of England." Jimmy retorts.

"What's your name?" I ask the nervous looking lad.

"Private Thomas Neeson." The boy whispers.

"Well then Tommy, looks like you've got yourself a couple of friends." Jimmy smiles kindly. "Just try and stay away from Goodham, he's a bad sort."

Private Neeson nods eagerly, throwing Jimmy an shy glance. He doesn't leave his side for the entire day and when out night watch comes Jimmy has to ask Luke to take care of him so he can leave him behind.

"You're old enough to drink, right?" Luke grins cheekily.

"Just bloody keep him out of trouble." Jimmy sighs.