Journey Home. Part 2
The porter who also collected the tickets at this country station had known Eddy from a child. He was bent over the flowerbed that had now been sown with peas and carrots where the summer roses once had bloomed. "Keep it up Fred" whispered Eddy . Fred responded with a snort that could equally have been directed at the swarm of midges circling around his head despite the thick swirl of smoke issuing from a pipe clenched firmly between a complete set of dentures.
Eddy made his was through the small booking hall with its greeting smell of "Goods", that mixture of sacking, clean straw, cardboard and sawdust overlaid with the odour of day old chicks and young calves. Seven paces took him through and out into the station yard where the reflected warmth from the gravel yard hit his cold face.
It was now only a short walk to the village and his mother’s shop and he set out with raised spirits. Where the yard joined the quiet country lane, two small rabbits, yet to be caught for the pot, eyed him with curious suspicion hopping reluctantly to the hedge as he passed.
The sun was now sinking down onto the heads of the surrounding hills and its golden rays were being scattered by the fresh green leaves of the horse chestnut trees that lined the banks of the lane that led to the village.
It was about ten minutes before Eddy reached the first cottages and now everything had lost its daytime colours and could only be seen in shades of black red or gold.
The first sight of his mothers shop was made as he turned left into the narrow street by the side of the pub to which several old regulars were making their eager way. Eddy could see the light from the shops front window reflected on the steep bank on the opposite side of the road. In a matter of seconds he was outside the window looking in, there was his mother bent over the counter with the account book in front of her.
Eddy thought how tired she looked since he had last seen her and realised now that war took its toll in so many different ways. Out in the small room behind the shop Eddy could hear his sister busy with the washing up.
Just as he was about to push the shop door open and surprise his mother he heard the rattle of the bicycle being peddled hard down the slope from the pub. Its distinctive noise bought back boyhood memories of early summer evenings when he to would ride his old bike down that very slope risking his own and any pedestrians life with his reckless riding.
Instead of turning the handle and entering the shop something made him step back into the shadows and watch the breathless figure of the small post boy skid to a halt within feet of him, drop his bike against the old pump and burst into the shop.
Eddy stepped forward and gazed through the corner of the shop window to see his mother take the telegram from the boys sweating hand and wave him away. Seconds turned to hours as his mother opened and read the buff slip of paper, she read it several times before letting it slip from her slim fingers and flutter to lie face up on the counter. She looked up, gazed directly at Eddy and then turned slowly and left the shop to join his sister closing the door gently behind her.
The post boy brushed past Eddy as he left the shop, picked up his bike and pushed it slowly up the slope past the pub where he jumped on and peddled off towards the Post Office. Eddy had seen from his mother’s face that she had had a severe shock and he was reluctant to enter the shop for several minutes. Summoning up his strength however he pushed the door open and entered the empty shop. He crossed the floor to the counter noting the strangely bare white painted shelves that surrounded the shop walls.
He picked up the cause of his mother’s distress and read the few black inked words. As he read the neat hand-written note that familiar pain intensified and the salty flavour returned to his mouth. "Regret to inform you that your son Eddy was killed this morning during allied landings on the coast of France. Signed G. Low Officer Commanding 44 Commando . 6/6/44
Suddenly the battle scene appeared again in his mind’s eye and focused on a small group of soldiers, this time the scene was crystal clear and eddy could see that they were huddled around the body lying face down in the rising tide. As he watched one of the troops gently turned the body over and with horror Eddy found himself staring at his own glazed eyes. His red hair lay stuck to his forehead and his right arm hung in shreds held in place only by the remnants of his tunic top.
Now the room around him began to turn and he was faced not by the scene of battle but by a long dark tunnel and Eddy knew that he had an even longer journey to take.
R.J.B.