Until We Meet Again

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘I wanted to tell you myself,’ said Dominic. ‘Trust your brother to go and blurt it out like that!’

  ‘I don’t suppose it occurred to him,’ said Tilly. ‘He was in a hurry to get it over with. Anyway, it makes no difference, does it? I knew; I’ve known for ages that it would come. I was only waiting for you to tell me… What did your parents say?’

  ‘Surprisingly little,’ replied Dominic. ‘I have a feeling that Father has been having a good talk to Mother, and they had both come to the conclusion that I was serious about it. She is upset, naturally, but if I know Mother she’ll be boasting about it before long. The hardest part will be leaving you, Tilly, my darling. But you do see, don’t you, that it’s something I’ve got to do? And Tommy feels the same.’

  ‘You two! You egg one another on,’ she replied with a grim half smile. ‘You are both as bad as one another. Yes…I do see what you mean though. Will you be able to stay together, the two of you?’

  ‘We are hoping so. We’re going tomorrow, to Halifax, to enlist in the Duke of Wellington’s regiment. That’s where the headquarters are. And then – well – we’ll just have to wait until we are called. It shouldn’t be long.’

  There was a fanatical gleam in his eyes that evening that distressed her. He kissed her goodnight as fervently as ever, but she felt that she had said goodbye to a part of him already.

  Chapter Nine

  Tommy and Dominic enlisted the following day in the Duke of Wellington’s regiment. They were both to enter as privates but they hoped that with their background and schooling, plus their service in the ATC, that they might be considered for officer training.

  In less than a fortnight they received notice to report at Brockton Camp in Staffordshire, in two days’ time, to start their training. Both families gathered at the station to see them off, the last time they would see the two young men in civilian clothing for who could tell how long.

  It was a Monday morning at the beginning of June and Tilly had not gone to school that day. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with her daily attendance at Queen Adelaide’s Academy. She was eighteen years of age; many girls of her age, from less privileged backgrounds, had already been working for several years, in service as maids, or in mills, factories and shops. Many of them now, of course, were working in munitions factories. And girls from her own more socially advantaged station in life, or even higher, were no longer staying at home as ladies of leisure or going off to finishing school. Many were training as nurses or going into offices to do jobs that had formerly been the preserve of only the menfolk. Studying Ancient History and Geography, reading the works of Shakespeare and the Lakeland poets, even her musical studies, were beginning to pall and to seem irrelevant to Tilly in the present climate. She had, in fact, made up her mind what she intended to do and she was resolved to tell her parents that very day, after Tommy and Dominic had gone.

  Tilly and Dominic did not stand apart from the others on the station platform as they would really have liked to do. Tilly knew that Mr and Mrs Fraser were saying goodbye to their only son and must be feeling dreadfully sad, just as she was, so it would not be fair to monopolise him. Anyway, they had said their goodbyes the previous night as they had clung together in the solitude of a woodland glade, near to the Spa Pavilion where they had spent many happy times.

  ‘I will always love you, you know that, don’t you?’ Dominic had said to her. And she had replied that she would love him for ever and would wait for him no matter how long they might be apart.

  They both realised, although their thoughts remained unspoken, that there must be no talk of ‘if’ or ‘maybe’; they had to assume that it would be ‘when’ Dominic would return from the war.

  ‘And when I come back we’ll get married,’ he had said. ‘I know they will all say we’re too young, but we know, don’t we, that we’re not. This is for ever, Tilly darling.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you had asked me to marry you,’ Tilly had retorted, smiling roguishly at him. ‘Supposing I say no? I really think you ought to ask me first.’

  Dominic fell to his knees right there on the woodland path. ‘Tilly, my darling, will you marry me?’ he asked, clinging tightly to her hand.

  She laughed. ‘Get up, you idiot! You’re getting your trousers all messy.’ Indeed, the pathway was still a little damp after an earlier fall of rain. ‘Of course I will marry you,’ she replied. ‘Just watch your step, though, with those French mam’selles. I’ve heard they’re only too willing to befriend the British Tommies.’

  ‘You know there will never be anyone else but you,’ said Dominic with an ardent and so very loving gleam in his eyes. ‘I know I act the fool sometimes and I’m a bit brash, maybe, but since I met you – well, since I got to know you better – I’ve started to look at life differently, much more seriously. I love you so very much, Tilly.’

  They kissed longingly and passionately, Dominic’s hands caressing the curves of her body, but they drew apart. They both knew that they must not allow their lovemaking to reach its inevitable conclusion. Not now, not yet; it was not the time or the place, but they both knew that it would happen, sometime in the future.

  They strolled back up the path hand in hand. ‘Our Tommy will be a real Tommy soon, won’t he?’ said Tilly in an attempt to be light-hearted.

  ‘Yes, we’ll be a couple of Tommies together,’ said Dominic, ‘instead of being Dommy and Tommy, which is how we’re referred to at school. That’s one of the politer names,’ he added. ‘Some of the lads used to think we were “very good friends” – if you know what I mean! – until I started going out with Tommy’s sister.’

  ‘Oh, good gracious!’ laughed Tilly. ‘I never even thought of that.’ She did know what he meant. She had heard tittle-tattle about such matters from the girls at school, although not about her brother and his friend. ‘Our Tommy’s never had a girlfriend though, has he? At least, not any that we know about.’

  ‘Give him time,’ laughed Dominic. ‘He’s interested enough, I can tell you. But he doesn’t seem to have met anyone yet that he fancies enough to ask out. The trouble is that there is no one to compare with his sister.’

  ‘Oh, don’t give me that! We fight like cat and dog. At least we used to; we’re not so bad now… He does mean a great deal to me, actually,’ Tilly went on more seriously. ‘You’ll…look after him, won’t you? And I’ll be wanting him to look after you as well.’

  ‘We’re in it together,’ replied Dominic. ‘We’ll watch each other’s backs, you can be sure.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll be able to stay together?’ Tilly asked. ‘I mean…might they decide to separate you, to put you into different battalions, or whatever they are?’

  ‘I suppose, eventually, we hope we will each be leading a battalion,’ said Dominic. ‘But even so, I don’t suppose we will be far apart. They don’t separate friends as a rule. Lots of young men are joining up en masse, a group of friends together. They’re known as the “Bradford Pals”, or the “Burnley Pals”, or whichever town they come from.’

  ‘I see…’ said Tilly, suddenly feeling a chill of fear take hold of her. She had already heard of a group of pals who had gone to the war in a show of patriotism and camaraderie, but who, alas, would never return. She supposed that was her fear for Dominic and Tommy. She would like to think that they could stay together and watch out for one another. On the other hand, if it was a question of all for one and one for all… She shuddered and Dominic put his arm around her, holding her close.

  ‘Come on now; let’s not get too serious. Anyway, we won’t be going overseas for ages yet. We’ve to do our training first. About six months or so, they reckon. And I’ll be home before that, a few times if I can manage it.’

  There was little left to say during those last few moments as they waited for the departure of the train. It was already there, waiting at the platform when they arrived; Scarborough was always the starting point or the end of any route because it was at the end of
the line.

  Tommy and Dominic had already bagged seats by depositing their luggage in a compartment that was rapidly filling up, and then had alighted from the train until it was time for it to depart. When they saw the guard appear with his green flag they knew that this was imminent.

  Dominic put his arms around Tilly, not caring any longer who should see them – his parents or all the members of her family – and he kissed her long and lovingly. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘Take care of yourself, my darling.’

  ‘You take care too,’ she whispered back, tears stinging her eyes.

  Mabel Fraser looked a little put-out, but then Dominic turned to her. ‘Goodbye, Mother; I’ll write to you, very soon.’ He kissed her cheek, then shook hands with his father; they were not an overly demonstrative family. ‘Look after her, Father,’ he said, ‘and try not to worry too much, both of you.’

  ‘I’ll look after her, son…and you take care of yourself too,’ replied Mr Fraser. Indeed, what else was there to say? The same words, no doubt, were on the lips of all the families, husbands and wives and sweethearts, saying goodbye on the platform.

  Tommy dashed across and gave his twin sister a hug and a quick kiss on her cheek. ‘Cheerio, Sis. I’ll look after him for you, and myself as well, of course,’ he grinned. Carefree Tommy, as cheerful and irrepressible as ever.

  The two young men entered the carriage again, winding the window down for a last farewell wave. Dominic leant out and clasped Tilly’s hand in his own as though he could not bear to let go. They could hear the banging of carriage doors, then the shrill blast of the guard’s whistle as he waved his green flag for departure. There was a loud snort from the engine as the train started to pull away, slowly at first, and Tilly ran along beside it, clinging on to Dominic’s hand until it gathered speed and she was forced to let go. Clouds of grey acrid smoke blew back as the train vanished into the distance, enveloping the folk on the platform as they stood there staring after it.

  Little Amy and Gregory were still waving vigorously at their uncle and his best friend, who they could no longer see. All they knew was that the two young men were going away to be soldiers. Tilly found herself praying silently. ‘Please, God, take care of Dominic and Tommy. Don’t let anything happen to them, and let them come back safely.’

  She knew in her heart of hearts that it might well be a futile prayer. She was sure that the same anguished words were in the minds or on the lips of thousands of others, here at this station or elsewhere, as their loved ones departed. But one had to go on praying and hoping, and try to continue with one’s life as normally as was possible.

  As she stood there on her own, in silent contemplation, Mrs Fraser tapped her on the arm. ‘We are going home now, Tilly dear. You will keep in touch with us, won’t you? Come and visit us…?’ Tilly was not sure whether or not the invitation was sincere. But then, to her surprise, the woman leant forward and kissed her cheek. Only a peck to be sure, but a sign of affection that had not been in evidence before. ‘And thank you,’ she went on, ‘for being such a good…friend to our Dominic.’

  ‘Yes…he’s a changed lad since he met you,’ added Joseph Fraser, even more surprisingly. ‘He’s been more thoughtful, like, and more content with himself. He could be quite a handful at times. You’re a good lass, Tilly.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Fraser,’ said Tilly as she shook his outstretched hand. She could see an impending tear in the corner of one eye. ‘That’s kind of you to say so. I will come and see you, I promise…’ she added as they took their leave of her. ‘Look after yourselves now.’

  ‘You too, lass,’ said Mr Fraser, putting an arm around his wife as they walked away. The tears that had been threatening had taken hold of Mabel Fraser now and she was openly weeping as she leant against her husband for support.

  Faith Moon appeared to be far more in control of herself, although she, too, was holding on tightly to her husband’s arm.

  ‘Come along now, dear,’ she said to Tilly. ‘It’s very sad, isn’t it, saying goodbye? But I daresay they’ll both be back before very long. It’s just the training camp for the next few months, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Mother,’ agreed Tilly.

  ‘Very well then. Let’s get back now, eh?’ said William Moon. ‘Home, James, and don’t spare the horses!’ he added in an attempt to lighten the solemnity of the moment. They walked out of the station to where William’s motor-car was waiting.

  ‘Yes, let’s go home and make a pot of tea,’ said Faith cheerfully. ‘Are you coming back with us… Hetty? Jessie?’

  The two young women nodded their assent; it was a time for families to be together. ‘Just for a little while,’ said Hetty. ‘I’ll have to get home to see to Angela’s dinner, though. She’ll be back from school at twelve o’clock.’

  Maddy and her little daughter, of course, were still living with her father and stepmother in Victoria Avenue whilst waiting for their home to be restored after the shell damage. It was a tight squeeze for all of them in the Renault – Will and Faith; Maddy and Amy; Jessie and Gregory; and Tilly and Hetty – but they all welcomed the hilarity and the release of tension as they piled in for the homeward journey.

  ‘You’re not going into school at all today, then?’ Jessie enquired of her sister when they were all seated in the lounge with their cups of tea.

  ‘No…’ replied Tilly. ‘I’m giving it a miss today. Quite a few of the girls have taken days off, saying goodbye to brothers or…friends.’ She decided that it might not be a bad time to tell them now about what she had in her mind. She had intended to speak to her mother and Uncle Will first but maybe it would be as well to break the news whilst the rest of the family were there, too.

  ‘Actually…I have something to tell you,’ she began. ‘All of you. You see…I have decided to leave school very soon – now, as soon as I can – to do something more worthwhile. I’m going to train to be a nurse.’

  There was a stunned silence as they all stared at her. It was Jessica who was the first to speak.

  ‘Good for you, Sis,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yes…jolly good,’ agreed Maddy. Tilly was showing far more spunk than Maddy would have thought, at one time, that she was capable of.

  The only note of dissension, which was only to be expected, was from Tilly’s mother. ‘Leave school?’ Faith repeated. She shook her head bemusedly. ‘But you’re in the middle of your studies – well, almost at the end of them. And what about your music, dear? You are doing so well. You were planning on going to college soon, weren’t you?’

  ‘My studies will still be there when…when everything is over,’ replied Tilly, ‘Just as they will be for Tommy and Dominic, always supposing, of course, that any of us should want to go back to them. There are far more important matters at stake, though, at the moment, rather than playing the piano or reading Shakespeare and Dickens. And I didn’t get round to making an application to a music college as I really should have done by now. That’s because the nursing idea has been on my mind for quite a while.’

  ‘But will they allow you to leave school now?’ asked Faith.

  ‘I can’t see that they will have any say in the matter,’ replied Tilly. ‘A few girls have already left early. My fees are paid till the end of term, aren’t they? I would be leaving then in any case. Instead I shall be leaving now. I won’t be taking my final exams, that’s all. And that’s rather a relief,’ she added with a smile.

  ‘Good lass,’ said William, who had been silent until now. He nodded approvingly. ‘I think it’s a brave decision, and the right one, too. You can be sure your mother and I won’t stand in your way, will we Faith, my dear?’

  ‘No…I suppose not,’ said Faith resignedly. Tilly knew intuitively the thoughts that were running through her mother’s mind. She had already seen Samuel, and now Tommy go off to the war.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mother,’ she said. ‘But I feel that this is something I must do. We can’t leave it all to the men, and I d
on’t have a family to look after like Hetty and Maddy and Jessie, do I?’

  ‘And I feel sometimes that I ought to be doing something rather more important than knitting socks for soldiers,’ said Hetty, and the other two young women nodded in agreement.

  ‘But do you think that nursing would be the right career for you, dear?’ asked Faith. ‘I mean… might you not be rather squeamish about such things as…blood and operations and – well – all kinds of things? Some of the soldiers are coming back with terrible injuries – so we have heard, haven’t we? – and I assume that is what you want to do, eventually, to care for them?’

  ‘That’s something I won’t really know, Mother, until I’ve experienced it,’ replied Tilly calmly. ‘Yes…I have thought about all sorts of things, but it’s possible that I’m a good deal tougher than I look; physically and mentally as well. I’ve led quite a cushioned life until now, haven’t I? I’ve never been put to the test. Well, maybe now it’s the time.’

  ‘So…what are you going to do about it?’ asked Faith. It was clear that she didn’t wholeheartedly approve, but she would concede to her daughter’s wishes, seeing that she was so resolute about her intention. ‘Will you apply to the hospital here in Scarborough? Then maybe you would be able to live at home?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Mother. That might not be a good idea,’ Tilly told her. ‘I think trainee nurses are expected to live in the nurses’ quarters at the hospital. I think I shall apply to St Luke’s hospital in Bradford. That’s not too far away, is it? And I’ve heard of its good reputation. That’s the one I shall apply to first.’

  ‘And I should imagine they’ll be only too pleased to accept you,’ said William. ‘The way things are going, over in France, the hospitals will be needing all the manpower – and womenpower, of course! – that they can muster.’ He stopped abruptly, aware of the silence and the air of tension in the room as he spoke. Now was not the time to be dwelling on the horrific casualties generated by this devastating war.