Thirty one

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1918

Grief is the most wretched emotion of all.

Hatred, fear, regret. You can live with those, painful though it may be.

Grief is different because you'll never be able to change the outcome. Grief takes all hope with it, there's no way back. The lost tomorrows, the words unsaid, the promises of a future now lost.

In the life I should have lived I would never have met Luke. I would be the proud father of a 4 year old daughter, living my life with Evelyn by my side.

Luke would be an unknown person on the other side of the world, spending his days in his beloved outback, watching the sun rise and set and following his lifes path.

Fate threw us together and took him in such an undignified way back into her arms.

They will say he was a coward, a deserter.

I know differently. He was the bravest soul I ever met. Let them think of him what they want. I'll carry the truth within me, I'll carry him with me all of my days. In my mind he'll be forever young, he'll never age or lose his bravery and vitality. He will forever be that 20 year old boy with bright blue eyes and adventure in his heart, frozen in time for eternity.

In that way, at least, I suppose he'll never be gone.

But I would give anything, anything at all, to see his face and hear his voice one last time.

***

"Are you sure you're ok Harry?"

"I'm fine." I can hear the sharp edge in my voice and Jimmy flinches from it. I feel as though I've kicked a puppy from the wounded look on his face, but I don't try to smooth it over. I turn away from him and light another cigarette.

Luke left me with a terrible burden. I have to grieve for him alone. I have to keep the sheer horror to myself and in the past few weeks I've drawn into myself again.

Once this would have been my natural instinct, but over the past two years I've become accustomed to sharing every little thing with Jimmy. Without realising, it has become my way of coping with life here and not being able to talk to my best friend about the terrible secret that's tearing me up pains me deeper than I could have imagined.

Luke was right though. In a way, I think he had more clarity than me in our last conversation. He always used to tell me I didn't realise how soft Jimmy actually is and I understand now that his last wish was to protect him. His last gift.

I glance over at Jimmy and feel a surge of tenderness towards him. He's still very weak from his illness but of course, they treated him and pushed him back onto the battlefield as soon as they could.

He's frowning into the small fire and I can read his open expression easily. He's trying to think of something to cheer me up, snap me out of my mood. There's a beat before his face clears and he smiles.

"Do you remember when Luke got that brandy Harry?"

"Luke always had brandy, Jim." I try to sound casual but my stomach twists at the mention of his name.

"No, but I mean when he stole it from the Darlington's tent and we all got steaming drunk on his aged brandy?" Jimmy grins, warming to the memory. "And they insisted on searching all our backpacks. Luke thought ahead and put the empty bottle Goodhams backpack so Darlington had to punish him in solitary, even though he knew it wasn't him. Luke went down to cell they were holding him in and blew him kisses, all the while drinking the brandy from a different bottle. Goodham went crazy but there was bugger all he could do about it."

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