The air was crisp; the clouds hovered ominously in the low, sunset sky. The platform was coated in a fine layer of dust and the walls of the station hall were covered in black soot from the numerous trains that had passed over the decades. It was early winter and the traces of autumn had already faded out of the colour of the leaves. Pearly grey mist pervaded the air and swirled around their feet, the two of them, standing on the platform opposite each other, gazing into the other’s eyes.
He looked down and admired her face from the accentuated slant of her cheekbones to the subtle curvature of her jaw. Smiling, he traced a single line from the top of her temple, down past her tiny nose and gently caressed the bottom of her lip. She trembled slightly – something he had learnt to expect. From there he gently ruffled her soft, hazel brown hair; it was free flowing past her shoulders, not regimented in its usual bun. They had been spending so much time together recently that they hadn’t cared too much over their personal appearance – not since he had received the letter.
Conscription. Roll call. The meaning was the same in every country and carried an identical sentence across the continents– you were being called to sign your life away to the hands of fate, to be a pawn in the vast and volatile chessboard of war.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered brokenly, murmuring as he pressed his lips to her stone-cold forehead.
She looked into the depths of his pale, greyish eyes and saw the torment and fear that lay precariously around their edges, threatening to spill if the barriers of his bravery would waver for the slightest of seconds. He had charmed her from the beginning with his gentlemanlike manner and mild temperament, his strength of character and kindness.
They had met in the local town hall at the summer annual dance of this very same year. She had been new in town, her family having moved to the countryside so that her father could live in the fresh, unpolluted air – he had developed an aggressive form of lung cancer so had decided to live out the remainder of his days in the open, expansive spaces of the lustrous outdoors. She hadn’t resented moving away. She had always been a quiet, reserved person and didn’t care too much for the wildness London entertained through it’s extravagant theatres and lifestyle; the rural way of life suited her much better.
She had, however been nervous about trying to integrate into an entirely new community. Socialising with people she didn’t know had never been a particular talent she possessed; that was how she came to be at the town hall at all. Her parents had wanted to make the move an opportunity for her to start a new chapter of her life, so all but physically forced her to put on her evening wear and attend the event.
She had been sitting at a table, uncomfortable and tense as she watched the couples laughing and frolicking, exchanging stories and dancing with an ease of familiarity and confidence. It was then that he walked through the door, commanding the attention of the room with his smooth gait and air of assurance. She was transfixed.
He greeted some of the people she had been watching, flashing a set of gleaming white teeth. His hair was full and golden, his straight nose and chiselled features creating an irresistible masculine presence that she thought only belonged in the fantasy realm of movie glamour or romantic literature.
He looked over his shoulder and saw her staring. Horrified by the thought of her gawping expression she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be fascinated by a loose ream of ribbon that had come undone on her chair. It was only when she felt the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder that she turned. He was closer than she had expected, bending down on his knees so their faces were level.
“Good evening, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you but I felt I must come and introduce myself. I’m the son of the man your family recently bought a house from. I was going to greet you the other day when I saw you but you had already gone into your house and I didn’t want to concern you.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she stuttered, she could barely think coherently when he was so close.
A slow, soulful jazz number had begun to play and she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, savouring the comforting timbre of the instruments.
Mutedly, he addressed her, “It is almost sinful that someone so beautiful is not dancing. May I have the honour?”
He proffered his hand, a slight smile curving his mouth - she was powerless to refuse.
In the circle of his arms that night, swaying to the pulse of the music as one, a single entity, was magic beyond that which she knew existed. The sound of sweet nothings stroked her ears like the purr of a cat and her worries seemed to seep away into insignificance at his slightest touch. Standing on the train station platform being faced with the idea of permanent separation was pain that she could not bare.
---
The sun shone in streaks of light, illuminating the station – the few walls and buildings acted as partitions, reflecting the delicate rays into an array of shadows.
A single tear trickled softly down her cheek, the subdued glow creating a subtle rainbow effect as the light refracted, cracking a little piece of his heart as the moment faded with the setting sun.
Lovingly, he kissed away the moisture, cradling her face in his hands. He pulled away and stared at her, not being able to think of anything to say. Absently he stroked her face with his thumb and reminisced on the sweet memories they had shared together.
When they had met on that blissful summer’s evening he had felt an instant, insatiable pull towards her, greater than that of two magnets. Her eyes were captivating. They betrayed her every emotion, transmitting an almost mesmerising vulnerability that aroused violent, protective instincts within him. She seemed so soft, her every movement was delicate and refined. She was decidedly feminine, her body was slender but lined with soft curves that subtly clung to her dress, already causing many heads in the room to turn – he knew he had to make a move before she slipped through his fingers into the hands of another man; there was something strange about her that he felt drawn to explore, an overwhelming desire to discover the mysteries that he was knew must lay in the depths of her doe-like gaze.
They had danced that night and just holding her had made him so happy that he had become hooked, from her sweet smelling perfume to the way she sunk her teeth into her full lower lip when he bade her a compliment.
From then on he courted her. The day after the dance he visited her house, bringing a bouquet of flowers that perfectly matched the vibrant colour of her eyes. They had taken a stroll around the countryside through quaint country lanes and the local village, talking about their lives and getting to know one another. He found himself hanging on her every word, listening to the soft tone of her voice. They went on walks together often, basking in the foreground of lakes and mountains. They kissed under the shimmering moonlight, the stars baring witness to the beauty of the moment. He knew he was falling for her, and he knew nothing anyone could do would affect the torrent of emotions and love that he felt for her.
His letter of conscription had tested that bond more than he could’ve ever imagined, but in that moment he realised that he needed her and that no one else could replace her or fill the void in his life if she ever left.
He would remember that night forever. They had been on a picnic; the sun had blushed a faint orange colour across the horizon and she was nestled into the ridge of his shoulder as they lay curled up on a blanket. He looked down at her face, her eyelids had fluttered close and her luscious lips were slightly parted. He had told her about the conscription notice earlier and she had said very little after that, just held him tightly, not letting go.
“Marry me” he blurted out, her eyes snapped open and she stared at him in complete wonder.
“Wha-what?” she replied, leaning forward so they were face to face.
“Look, I know it’s soon, but I’m leaving and I want to know I have something to come back to, you to come back to…” he stuttered, his voice dwindling into nothing as he finished.
His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest as he watched her catch her bottom lip between her teeth and chew on it softly. Her brow creased slightly and he broke her gaze, looking away towards the hills. He could feel her intense stare burning into the side of his face and the feeling of oncoming rejection was rising within him like a wave of nausea, his gut twisting violently.
He felt the soft stroke of her hand against his cheek as she gently pressed him to look at her.
“Yes”.
He never knew that a single word could bring such happiness. It was a blinding sensation. He felt like he was falling, the pit of his stomach leapt frantically as he grabbed her face and their lips met in a heart-stopping, emotional kiss.
They had eloped only a few days ago, their vows resonating in the presence of God. They became united, joined, in every way – tied to each other for eternity in an unbreakable bond. He reached for her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed the ring that rested on her finger.
Suddenly, he could hear the distant sound of a steam engine churning it’s way along the tracks. She had obviously heard it too as she twisted her body frantically towards the sound.
“I can’t believe it’s here already. I’m not ready to let you go!” she exclaimed.
Seeing her so distressed sent waves of guilt through him and he hugged her close to his chest.
“You’re not letting me go. I’m coming back.” He said defiantly, his voice breaking as the true reality of his survival chances hit him squarely in the face.
---
The monstrous black steam train pulled into the station, squealing as it reluctantly braked into position at the platform. Tears dropped uncontrollably down her face and she tried desperately to wipe them away so she didn’t make this any harder for him.
He reached up and said - “I want you to have this”, as he unclasped a catch and pulled a heavy chain bearing a silver cross pendant from his neck, “so I know you’ll be protected while I’m away”.
He held both ends in his hands in front of her:
“May I?”
“Of course,” she sighed, as she gathered her hair to one side.
After he had secured the necklace he let it drop gently, and she could feel the weight pull against her neck, the cold chill of the metal momentarily overcome the numbness she was currently experiencing, bringing the idea of their separation back to the forefront of her mind.
With that she leant up and their lips met in a hungry embrace. All unsaid words and tangled emotions burst forth as they held each other close, savouring every touch. They broke away, breathing heavily, and for the final time he kissed her forehead.
“I have to go…” he said, his beautiful voice fading into the gentle breeze.
“Be safe. I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised.
There was a feeling of finality in the air as he whispered, “I love you.”
And then he was gone.
The warmth of his body was gone.
The sound of his voice was gone.
The happiness he brought her was gone.
The train began to gurgle and lugged forward, gaining momentum and carrying him away from her. She could see his face in the window of the carriage and drank in every feature, realising that this might be the last time she ever saw his face. His hand pressed against the window, leaving a perfect print in the condensation.
Hand outstretched in his direction she watched the train pull out from the station and looked into his anguished eyes one last time when the steam invaded the air, completely obscuring her sight as she crumbled to the gravely floor.
---
The telegram fluttered to the floor. Her fingers shook violently and she collapsed into a nearby chair, her chest heaving and heart pounding. A strangled cry ripped from her throat and she clutched the silver cross in a vice-like grip.
“No…” she wept hysterically, “he can’t have died, he promised, I need him!” she wailed.
“We,” she stressed, “need him,” she corrected as she laid a tender hand on her extended, bloated stomach.
Their child would never know its father.
She would stand there, alone, at their child’s first day of school. She would be the only parent attending their wedding day. All the precious moments and memories they should have shared together as parents had been cruelly stripped away from them by politics and greed, tearing apart innocent people’s lives for a power-crazed game of tug-of-war.
She bent down and picked up the telegram, brushing off the dust, and laid it on a cabinet. Kneeling by the bed she held her hands together in prayer, bowed her head and closed her streaming eyes. The image of his face consumed her reeling thoughts as she pleaded to God for their child’s good health so she could keep one part of him alive with her for comfort in a world that was becoming increasingly dark through her blurry eyes.
She promised that she would wait for him. Now she promised never to let go.
**
This was a short story I wrote for my GCSE coursework 4 years ago - thought I'd share ! Hope you guys liked it, please vote and comment etc. and feel free to check out my other story (Dance into my Heart). Thanks ! :D
Lauren x