The Brothers Gray

September 1914

When it was his turn in the recruitment line, he gave his name – Thomas Gray – age – twenty-four – occupation – labourer. He gave the names of his parents – Harold and Alice – and his father’s occupation. There were some questions about his health and fitness. In return for his answers, Tom received a set of enlistment papers to sign and instructions on where he should proceed for a physical assessment. After the weeks he had waited to enlist, Tom was disappointed the process ended so quickly.

Tom hadn’t signed up that very first day, the day after the announcement, because there were arrangements to make. A notice to hand in at work, then, to his parent’s despair, he used some of his wages to find a solicitor to draft a will. Richard, witnessed it. Tom was glad his brother possessed enough loyalty to agree to that, lord knew he wasn’t being supportive where it mattered. Richard then witnessed their youngest brother Harry’s will; because what Tom did, Harry did.

Tom was sure enlisting was the right decision. And because Tom believed it, so did Harry. When they returned home, they handed the sealed envelopes over to their parents. Dad accepted them when their mother refused, stalking from the room as soon as she realised what they contained.

“We have a professional army.” Had been her argument, ever since Tom declared he would volunteer. “My brother’s in it if you recall. They don’t need volunteers. They’re a professional army. What business do you have joining? You don’t know how to be soldiers. They don’t need you.”

“It was in the newspaper, love.” Harold quietly disagreed.

Tom responding to the call for arms was foreseen by the entire Gray family, what they hadn’t anticipated was the youngest son joining him. Enlistment wasn’t mandatory; there was a professional army to lead the charge.

Richard was resigned to Tom’s departure, and didn’t argue.

All that changed when Harry said he would go too. Now Richard was trying to bite Tom’s head off at every opportunity, and he couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t as though he had encouraged Harry to do it. Besides, they’d both be fine. The way everyone spoke, it wouldn’t last long. Hell, by the time they’d gone through training there was a chance they’d already be too late to serve – the old-timers finishing the job for them before they’d even had a chance to see past their shore.

Tom didn’t mind the idea though. They’d find something else for him to do, he was sure of it. After all that training, they wouldn’t want their new recruits to go to waste. And then he’d finally do it. Live out that fantasy he’d had since childhood; the one his parents denied him with all their fruitless worrying.

He’d see the world in the army. He’d no longer be tethered to his small city with its limited outlooks and opportunities. His future would be one grand adventure. Tom would see all the things his Uncle Henry used to tell them about when they were children. He’d go to India and see the elephants. There would be lions in South Africa. Sugar fields on the Caribbean islands. Maybe he’d go as far as Asia. He’d sail all around the Empire, instead of being constrained to one small, insignificant corner.

His world as it stood seemed so bland, so dull. His life was mapped out exactly as it was for his parents. He went to school, then he went to work. Next, he had to get married and have children. Then he would be the dad and his dad would be the grandfather. Someone else – some woman – would become the mother. He’d have his own rabble of children and they’d follow the exact same path. Never escaping, not unless he did something now. Something bold, something new. He had to take the first step and with this kind of opportunity before him, how could he ignore it? When would something like this ever come along again? It was a once in a lifetime moment. How had the paper described it the other day? The war to end all war?

Dad had snorted sceptically at that, but Tom latched onto the notion. It reinforced his ideas even more of a noble cause that he would be at the centre of. So, he was going. And no amount of glares from his mother would change that. Richard could snipe all he wanted – Tom knew Harry understood. The rest of his family would see in time. They’d know he’d made the right decision, and know that Richard was wrong for ignoring the call. Richard was wrong, and Tom was right. For the first time ever, his family would have to acknowledge that.

Once their affairs were in order, Tom and Harry went to a recruitment drive in the town square to volunteer their services. Richard went with them and, at the last minute, Dad said he’d go to keep them all company.

To keep an eye on them more like.

Their mother steadfastly refused to accompany their party, not even standing in the threshold to wave them off.

As it was a market day, the city centre was bustling with traders. Some of them had travelled in from the country, the young men whose towns were too small to have a recruitment centre of their own, taking the opportunity to learn more. That meant by the time the Gray family arrived, a lengthy queue had formed.

The army had erected signs around the stall, bold text issuing a stern appeal to join. Richard glared at the posters as they walked by; as if he could make them stand down with a look.

They approached the green domed city hall, a long line snaking around the town square. Harold stood slightly aside as they took their place, to make it clear he wasn’t partaking. The posters made it clear he was too old to serve. While Tom thought they were signing up for a noble cause, he was pleased it was one his dad couldn’t share in. Something about the idea of his father keeping an eye on him the entire time spoiled the fun of it all. It would be far more exciting, just him and Harry.

Looking around the queue, Tom saw plenty of people he knew. A few friends of his from school called out, more from work; some standing in line, others already enlisted. They shared his excitement and were thrilled to see him join them. Hopefully, they’d all go together. How grand would that be? Their tents would be laid out like their streets. Neighbours from home, neighbours at war. They chatted happily among themselves.

As was often the case, Richard and Harry quickly became invisible once Tom’s friends appeared. Richard was too annoyed to make small talk and their Dad was scrutinising the posters for information on what his boys should expect, so it was left to Harry to make conversation.

They were nearing the front of the queue, and Harry made the mistake of saying: “There are so many people going. The city will be deserted when we all go.”

“No, it won’t, Harry,” Tom said, glancing over his shoulder at his family. He gave into the temptation to bite back at Richard. “They’ll be plenty of people still around. Old fogies like Dad. Women and children. And let’s not forget the cowards, who refuse to join despite it being their duty.”

“I think you’ll find the only part of the war effort I refuse to partake in is getting shot,” Richard replied dryly, immediately rising to Tom’s prompt. “Other than that, however, I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful time.”

“Richard.” Harold chastised.

“I don’t think you can tell me off for saying the truth, Dad.” He retorted bitterly.

“You’re the one missing out, not us.” Tom tried to bite back.

Grimacing, Richard said, “I think that’s rather the point.”

Harry glanced between his brothers who glared at one another, neither one interested in finding a common ground. Their father stood between them, trying his best in the role of peacemaker.

“Did you ever think about joining the army, Dad?” Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

Harold saw what he was doing and gave a long winded reply, hoping cool heads would prevail by the time he finished talking. “Oh, I think every man does at one point or another in his life. But my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps, so I learnt the trade instead. Just like Richard. When I was young, I thought serving would be fun, but the older I get the more I appreciate the career I had. After all, if I’d served abroad, I might never have met our Alice. Then I wouldn’t have you boys. When I look at your Uncle Henry, it seems to me he’s missed out on an awful lot. Never managed to start a family of his own. Doesn’t have any roots, only has his brothers and sisters. No, I don’t envy him, and I wouldn’t change a thing about my life.” He grinned, looking over his boys fondly.

His smile suddenly faltered when he remembered where they were. “Not that I don’t think you’ll enjoy it, boys. It’s just that – well – times were different than they are now. Back when I was a lad. As long ago as that was.” Harold tried to joke.

“I know what you mean, Dad,” Tom assured before his face hardened. He directed his next words at Richard. “Everything is different now. People have to step up to face the situation we’re in.”

“If it was as noble a cause as they’re making it out to be,” Richard said, his reply made through gritted teeth, “they would have no trouble making conscription mandatory. Instead, the only way they can get men is to prey on the illusions of those who still dream like children.”

“You know,” Tom threatened, his voice rising.

Harold’s hands clapped soundly on both their shoulders, pulling them towards him before they could make a scene. Tom stared at his father’s hand, surprised in the strength behind it which he couldn’t break free from. “Stop it, both of you. I’ve had enough. Richard, your brothers are doing a brave thing. Thomas, your brother is under no obligation to follow. You’re both grown men. You’ve made your decisions in life and there’s no point in arguing over them. Now, for the love of God, remember where you’re both standing and act your ages.”

He released them and Tom stumbled back slightly, knocking into Harry who wouldn’t meet either of their eyes. Harry hated it when his brothers argued.

Tom glared at Richard, deciding Dad’s ire was his fault. He couldn’t understand what his problem was. Just because he didn’t have the courage to go, it didn’t mean he had to attack Tom for inheriting all the bravery in the family.

As soon as their Dad’s back was turned, he would set his brother right.

They shuffled further along the queue.

When it was their turn to approach the recruiters, Tom accepted the service papers thrust upon him with zeal. He glanced at them before signing his name. Richard forced Harry to look at them more carefully, explaining any terms he was unfamiliar with. Tom was all done by the time Harry even got around to adding his name, stating to the officer: “Henry Gray. Eighteen – nineteen in November, grocer’s clerk.”

Then Harry received his instructions on where to proceed for training.

Richard watched Harry sign carefully, not knowing until the second his pen hit the paper whether he would really go through with it or if he would back out. As soon as the last loop of his name was formed, Richard turned to the recruiter and said he would enlist too.

“Richard Gray. Twenty. Cordwainer.”

The recruiter nodded approvingly of the trade. Richard had followed in Harold’s footsteps, who in turn had followed his father. Really it should have been Tom who took up the family trade but, as in a lot of things, he didn’t have the necessary patience. And so Richard became their father’s pride, though Harold didn’t sound proud when he asked:

“Are you sure, son? You don’t need to go just because Harry is. He’s an adult, he can take care of himself. You don’t have to do this right now, you can take a few days to think about it.”

Richard ignored him. Of course he had to; he couldn’t count on Tom to keep Harry alive so he’d have to do it.

Tom whooped with delight, deciding this was confirmation that Richard’s protests had all been an act. Now they’d go together.

Richard didn’t speak the rest of the way home, shaking off Tom’s hand when his foolish brother tried to congratulate him for doing the right thing. Once they inside their terraced house, he stormed up the stairs to his bedroom and firmly shut the door on the rest of the household.

He hadn’t meant to ignore his mother as he threw himself through the house, but how could he stand before her and confess what he had done? Instead, like a coward, he left his father to break the news. Richard knew what this would do to her and hadn’t wanted to see it. She’d been a bundle of nerves ever since Tom had announced he was enlisting, and Harry chimed in. Her one source of solace was the belief that Richard would stay with them. Now he was disappointing her.

No matter what he did, someone would be unhappy as a consequence of his actions.

The sound of his door slamming shut reverberated around the house.

“What’s going on?” Alice asked Harold, who had quietly closed the front door behind him once everyone was inside. She turned to look at him, wide eyed at her son’s behaviour.

He patted her shoulder reassuringly, before revealing, “They’ve all signed up, Alice. Richard too. They’ll be billeted at home for now, so we’re not losing them just yet, but they’ve got a check-up with a doctor tomorrow. They’ll start training as soon as he says they’re well.”

Harry watched as his mother’s face crumpled and resolutely turned away while Harold and Tom did their best to placate her.

“It’ll be okay, Mum,” Tom said. “Lots of people from here have signed up. We’ll be in good company. And the recruiter said we’d get properly trained and kitted out before we go anywhere.”

“It all seemed well organised to me.” Harold agreed, taking his wife by the shoulders and giving her a stern look. “Now don’t you go fretting over nothing. They’ve taken good care of your brother, they’ll do the same for our boys.”

Alice pressed her fingers to her temples, suddenly weary. Like Richard she craved solitude at that moment, but she had the tact to hide it behind an excuse.

“Darling,” she said to Harold, “I don’t think I’m feeling too well. I think I might go lie down for a little while.”

“An excellent idea, love.” Harold encouraged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hide her faltering composure from their sons. He led her over to the stairs. “You go up. I’ll cobble something together for mine and the lad’s tea. I’ll save you a plate. Just shout if you want anything fetching and I’ll bring it along.”

Relying on the banister to get upstairs, Alice went to her room while the remaining men went through to the kitchen.

Harold scrubbed his face with his hands, surrendering to a wave of powerlessness for just a second before he pulled himself together. Going into the pantry, he gathered some things for their dinner. He wasn’t a cook, so they stuck to bread and cheese. Tom set into it happily, ignoring the grim shadow which had settled over his father’s brow.

“Well fancy that.” Tom chirped when they were around the table. “All three of us are going. I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised in my life.”

He looked at Harry when no one answered. His brother threw on a smile, trying to drown his growing guilt. “Yeah. It’s great. I’m glad we’re all staying together.”

Harold cleared his throat. “Just remember you might be put in different regiments, before you go getting all excited. It depends on how many people they’ve already got signed up and where they decide your skills lay. Richard has a trade after all, they might want him to use it.”

Tom’s smile fell briefly, but he shook off his father’s remark.

“They won’t split us up, Dad.” He said confidently. “We’ll stay together, I know it. I’ll look after them both.”

If Richard had been there, Tom was certain he would have protested at that, assuring him that he didn’t need his protection. He was always like that, so eager to prove that he was the best. Perhaps for once Tom could be. He sent a glare up at the ceiling over his head, above which Richard was squirrelled away sulking.

Richard always had to be special: different.

He’d signed up; to Tom that meant Richard wanted to go. And yet, he was angry. He turned that over in his mind a few times, trying to understand his brother’s temperamental mood but he had no luck. Perhaps he was scared, pretending to be mad to save grace. Tom would have to speak to him later, assure him that all would be well. That would settle the matter.

“I hadn’t expected we would start so soon,” Harry said after several minutes of silence. All three men had been too busy with their own thoughts, quietly eating their dinner. “I thought we’d have a few days, maybe weeks.”

“What’s the point in waiting?” Tom exclaimed. “If we don’t hurry, the war will be over before we even get there.”

Harold tilted his head back, throwing a silent prayer to the heavens.

“They need people now, Harry. They wouldn’t have driven up and down the country otherwise.” He chastised, mistaking Harry’s surprise for cowardice. “I thought you understood that.”

“I do, I just…”

“It was a surprise.” Harold finished, shooting Tom another disapproving look. With every one he received that afternoon, Tom felt increasingly frustrated. He’d done a brave thing, yet he kept being treated like a naughty school child.

Once they were done eating, Harold fixed two extra plates and took one up to Alice while Tom cleared up. Perhaps if he did it without being told, his dad would remember he was an adult who didn’t need to be ordered around and told off.

Once Harold returned downstairs, he sent Harry to take the other plate to Richard.

Tom was about to go upstairs himself, fancying an early night. He didn’t know what to expect from training, Uncle Henry had never talked about it. He imagined it would be tough. In his mind he was already prepared; he did plenty of heavy lifting at work and often played rugby with his friends. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a good night’s sleep behind him.

“Hold on a moment, Thomas,” Harold said, retaking his seat at the head of the table.

Sinking back into his own, Tom looked at his dad questioningly. His head had fallen into his palms again, scratching his fingers into his scalp as he tried to get his thoughts together.

When he didn’t speak after a minute, Tom prompted him, “Dad?”

Dropping his hands heavily to the table, Harold studied his son carefully. “Thomas. I want you to know that I am proud of you. I know you’re doing the right thing – people need to do their part. If I were young enough, I would probably enrol too. Your mother knows it as well, she’s just scared about losing one of you, which is why she can’t say so.”

Tom had figured as much, and he assured him of that.

“I know, Dad.”

“Saying that, however.” He interrupted. “I don’t feel – and hear me out before you go getting all defensive – I don’t feel as though you fully understand what you’ve signed up to.”

Despite his plea, Tom immediately tried to disagree. “Dad.”

“I told you to listen to me,” Harold said, firmly cutting him off in that tone of his which always made the boys fall silent. “You barely looked over your papers, Thomas. And I know you didn’t listen to the recruiting officer when you went up there today, you kept missing his questions. I’ve already told you I think you’re doing the right thing. But I want to make sure you understand this is also a dangerous job you’ve signed up to do.”

“I know that.” He scoffed. Tom knew he was going to war and what that would entail. He’d heard all about war from his Uncle Henry and, unlike his dad, he had experienced it first-hand. Uncle Henry served in South Africa, Aro and India. He’d seen men die and had killed for his country. Now, would Tom too.

“It’s more than an adventure, Thomas. This is real. You and your brothers are going somewhere dangerous. I need you to understand that because I need you to take this seriously. The less you do, the more likely it is one of you – or god forbid, all of you – will get hurt. Or worse. You could die doing this. So please. When you go to training, take it seriously. Listen to what they tell you.”

Tom glanced at the empty chairs around the table. “Why aren’t you giving this speech to all of us?”

Harold sighed. “I think you need to hear it the most.”

“Because I’m the oldest?” Tom asked. “I’ve already said, Dad. I’ll look after them both.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, knocking his glasses as he did, Harold shook his head. “No. I’m telling you because I think, out of all of us, you’re taking this the least seriously.”

Tom stood up so abruptly the kitchen chair nearly fell over, rocking on its hind legs before settling with a clunk against the tiled floor. “I’m the only one taking this seriously, Dad. I knew what I needed to do the minute war was declared. Harry only said he’d volunteer after I did. Richard didn’t plan to do it until today. I understand what’s at stake. And I’m prepared to do my part. The last thing I need is a lecture.” He declared, standing up straight as he looked down at his Dad. Until that moment, he’d never really noticed how old he was getting. He used to tower over him and his brothers, but not anymore.

Forcing himself to stand even straighter, chest puffed out and shoulders squared, Tom stated, “I know what I’m doing. You’ll see.”

Stalking off, he threw himself upstairs and shut himself inside his room. He was so busy stewing in irritation over his family’s behaviour that afternoon, ranting under his breath at the nerve of them, he didn’t notice his brothers had fallen silent in the room next door.

Upstairs, Richard could only hear vague wisps of conversation from below as his family settled down for dinner. Not enough to hear what everyone was saying, but he could guess. Tom would be thoughtlessly triumphant – ignorant and disrespectful to the moods of everyone else. Harry would pretend to feel the same. Dad would try to keep everyone in fair spirits. As for Mum, Richard wasn’t sure. He knew she would be disappointed, that much was for certain. How that would manifest however, he didn’t know. She’d always been adept at controlling her emotions, something Richard admired and tried to emulate.

Perhaps she would make a brave show about their enlistment. Only Tom and Richard failed to do so – Tom because he really believed everything would be splendid, and Richard because he was weak.

He should go downstairs, he thought. Go and find something to eat, make mindless small talk with the family he would soon leave behind. Yet, despite thinking so, he was unable to convince his body to move from its spot on the bed. While his mind flew between self-flagellation and despair, his body was lethargic and heavy. It felt as if he had used up every ounce of energy in reaching his room and, now that he was there, he was powerless to go anywhere else.

There was a creak on the staircase and Richard held his breath to listen closer, wondering if anyone was going to approach him. He hoped they wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure how he would cope if he were forced to pretend all was well in that moment. How could he when it felt like his entire world was collapsing in on itself?

He would have to quit the career he had taken to ease his father’s burden, leave his family home, join the army – which, unlike his brothers, he never had an interest in. Richard had only thought a few months back that it was time to get married and find a home of his own, settle down with one of the girls he’s been seeing. That was out of the window. He was in the army now, soon to be trained and shipped off to war; no return date ticket guaranteed. That in itself was terrifying enough, until Richard remembered he wouldn’t be alone in the ordeal. Then it was truly horrifying.

A breath caught in his lungs which was quickly released when Alice flung open the door.

“Sorry, dearest.” She said, hastening to his side once the door was closed again. “I only wanted to check on you, I didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

Placing a hand to his racing heart, he assured her it was fine. “It’s my own fault. I was daydreaming.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, so long as it’s done in moderation.”

She took a seat beside him on the bed and Richard was unable to repress a huff of frustration. He had hoped she was only dropping by, perhaps to ask if he wanted dinner. That hope, like many others that day, died quickly as she settled in to talk.

Glancing at her, wondering what she wanted, his eyes stuck to her frame as he took in her expression. Mum looked exhausted, a paleness to her skin, dark hair falling around her face where she’d pushed her hands through the strands, and wearing a cardigan she hadn’t buttoned properly.

“Oh, Richard.” She breathed, turning slightly to rest her hand on his shoulder. As soon as she touched him, the sense of loss Richard had experienced as soon as he signed his name on the service papers sharpened. He no longer felt untethered from his body, the pounding of his heart suddenly audible to his ears as a swell of emotion swamped him. He felt angry. He felt wronged. Tears pricked at his eyes and his fists clenched. He still wanted to shout and now it seemed he was ready to cry as well.

The thought of doing either in front of his mother made him grind his teeth together, trying to gain control of himself.

“It’s all right, darling.” She assured him, noticing his struggle. Instead of liberating him, her acknowledgement only made Richard try harder to bottle everything up.

“None of this is all right.” He was able to say, once he felt it was safe to loosen his jaw.

Waiting for an indictment, for Mum to tell him he shouldn’t have enlisted, he was surprised when she pulled him into a warm embrace.

“I understand why you did it.” She said.

Glancing at her, Richard found no judgement in her eyes, but he still felt the need to apologise. “I’m so sorry, Mum.”

“For what?” Alice exclaimed. “I know I’ve been difficult about this. I understand why they need men to volunteer, I really do. It’s selfish of me to want you to stay. Maybe you’ll understand when you have kids of your own,” she suggested, clearing her throat as the idea stuck there, “but they become your world. I thought it was bad enough when my Henry signed up. I don’t know what would happen if I lost any of you.”

Richard wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged his mother tight.

“I understand,” he said, repeating her sentiments, “I know why you want us to stay. That’s why I’m sorry. I’m sorry I signed up. I really did mean to stay as long as I could but when Harry signed up…”

Unable to sufficiently conjure the panic which had flowed through him, he faltered off. How could he watch his youngest brother go to war while he stayed behind? He would never be able to live with himself if something happened to him. As for Tom, he didn’t trust him to be sensible. Tom would undoubtedly decide to be a hero and Harry, never one to think for himself, would recklessly follow. As much as he didn’t want to go, Richard knew they needed him.

“I know.” Alice ensured. “I would go to the ends of the Earth for my family. You’re the same.”

It was why he was her favourite, though she could never admit as such aloud.

“Try not to be so hard on yourself. Your father and I will manage. Don’t feel guilty about leaving us. And try not to be so angry with your brothers? They’re doing what they think is right, just like you. Like we all are.” She said, adding, “What strange times we’re living in. No one knows what to do really.”

Pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, Alice stood up wearily. Richard’s head drooped forward as he no longer had her to lean on.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

He glanced up. “You’re not going downstairs?”

“No, dearest. I have a bit of a headache.” She sighed, peeking over her shoulder as she closed the door. “You understand.”

“Bye, Mum.” Richard said only after she had left. He shuffled along the bed so he could lay down, giving up on any ideas of spending time with his family that evening. There was no energy left to take him away from his current position, and no will to carry him.

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he pushed against the sockets lightly, hoping the pressure would stop any tears from spilling over. What tomorrow would bring he wasn’t sure. Unlike Tom, he had listened to the recruiter carefully as he outlined the physical assessment and their basic training. He hadn’t been encouraged by his description; he didn’t want basic training, he wanted something thorough, he wanted to learn everything to better his family’s chances.

Richard had never been a slouch at anything, not at school, not at chores, not at work, and yet he couldn’t remember a time he felt a sterner resolve. He was intelligent, everyone was always telling him so. As long as he used that intelligence wisely, it would increase their chances of survival.

Uncle Henry always talked about chance and luck. He thought it circumstantial that he was still alive when many friends of his no longer were.

For once, was it possible that his intelligence wouldn’t see him through?

There was a tap at the door, dragging Richard from his misery. He watched passively as Harry wandered in, a plate of food in hand.

“Dad sent me to bring you something.” He announced, depositing the dish on their chest of drawers. Richard glanced at the offer idly, but nothing appealed.

Harry noticed his look and said, “I know it’s not much, but it was the best Dad could do. And you’ve got to eat, right?”

Slumping back against the bed, Richard still declined. The thought of eating made him queasy.

“Thanks. You can just leave it there.”

Harry nodded and headed back to the door. As soon as he opened it, however, he faltered.

Abruptly, Harry crossed the room to sit on his own bed. Richard watched him curiously, wondering what he could possibly have to say. If he were truly determined to become Tom’s shadow, perhaps he’d try to congratulate him for his bravery and moral righteousness. From Tom, it was easy to ignore such empty words. He didn’t know how he would react to Harry mimicking them.

Speaking first to prolong the moment, Richard asked, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

Harry shuffled on the bed uneasily. “Fine. I’m looking forward to it.”

Biting his tongue so he wouldn’t point out the obvious lie, Richard hummed noncommittedly.

“At least we don’t have to leave home just yet. And it looks like we’ll know plenty of people, lots of people from home” Harry continued, “so that’ll be good. Tom said we’ll all stay together too, I was worried they might split us up.”

“They still might.” Richard warned.

“They won’t.” Harry retorted, emulating Tom. “We’ll go together.”

Nodding his head sadly, Richard restrained himself from speaking his mind once again. It seemed that he would have be uncharacteristically quiet the entire time they served for fear of upsetting his brothers’ delusions.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“Fine.” He replied.

Harry waited for Richard to say more but he couldn’t. He wished Harry would leave him to his despair; in no mood to keep pretending with the one person in the house he could usually be honest with.

Realising he would get nothing from Richard, Harry huffed. Rubbing his hands together, he tried to restart their conversation several times, making comments about the people in town, the long queue at the recruitment drive, how clear the sky had been.

Richard kept his replies clipped, sometimes only humming in response. He had hoped Harry would take the hint and give up, but it only seemed to incentivise him to talk more.

“It was amazing how many people came today, wasn’t it?” Harry said brightly, resting his elbows on his knees so he could lean towards Richard. “It’ll be interesting to see how many people enlist by the end of the month, won’t it?”

“Yes.”

Clenching his eyes shut, Harry finally had enough, “I’m sorry, Richard.”

That got his attention.

Twisting to look at him, Richard asked what he meant.

“I know you didn’t want to sign up and you only did it for me.” Harry confessed. “I feel terrible about it. And I feel even worse, because I should tell you that you don’t have to go, but I’m so happy that you are. I hoped every day for the last fortnight that you would change your mind. And now you have, but…”

“I have.” Richard reiterated. “It’s done, the ink’s dry. There’s no point in winding yourself up over it.”

“There is!” Harry insisted.

“Why? What good will it do?” Richard said, wishing once again that Harry would leave. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’d already talked to Mum, how much more needed to be said? He didn’t want to go, but he was going. He was going for the right reasons; or at least he hoped he was. What more was there to it?

“I just needed to say it. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

Propped with a hand, Richard pushed himself up so he could face his brother.

“You said it to try and make yourself feel better.” He accused, losing his patience. “Not me.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but, upon seeing the scowl settling over Richard’s face, he lost his nerve. Abashedly, he admitted, “You’re right. I was hoping you’d tell me you’d done it for some other reason. Then, maybe, I wouldn’t feel like this. I’m sorry.”

Groaning at yet another apology directed his way, Richard told him to, “Forget it. What’s done is done, isn’t that what people say? Besides, it might not be so bad.”

“Ever since I said I’d sign up, you’ve been telling me how dangerous it’ll be.” Harry pointed out.

“It might not be.” Richard said, though he didn’t believe it. “The war might be over by the time we’ve finished training. And even if it’s not, there’s nothing to say we’ll be posted abroad where the fighting is.”

“We could end up fighting here.” Harry said, voicing the fear aloud.

“Nah, that won’t happen. We’ve got the Channel to protect us. Mum and Dad will be safe all the way up here.”

Harry nodded. “You’re not angry with me?”

Richard remembered what Alice had asked from him. “No. I’m not angry. I’m glad we’re staying together. I would have worried about you otherwise.”

“Me too.” Harry said sadly, looking at him with a doleful expression.

Someone was coming up the stairs, and they heard Tom go into his room. Through their shared wall, they could hear him flopping onto his bed with a weary sigh. Only when his light clicked off, did Harry break the stare he and Richard had maintained to lay down on his bed.

Richard stayed sitting for a little while longer before finally giving in.

They all lay, yet no one slept.