Farewell to Ghosts

The hissing and chugging of the engine made it almost impossible to hear as passengers surged to and from the train. People craned towards each other, lipreading and gesturing. Civilians threaded their way through the groups of soldiers and sailors, some jostling and joking, others weary and silent. Everyone seemed to be clad in shades of grey, blending with the gloomy miasma of steam and smoke, pale faces momentarily illuminated as they passed under the weak lights before disappearing into the chilly dusk. There were joyful reunions and somber, tearful partings as the guard blew his whistle and began making his way down the platform slamming doors. My brother and I slapped each other on the back and locked eyes.

 “Write when you can. Ma will be wanting to hear how it’s going.”

 “Will do. Have a pint with the lads for me. Try and keep Ma out of the gin bottle.”

We grinned. He slung his kitbag over his shoulder and elbowed his way into the rapidly filling carriage without looking back. Our mother had just got me home, battered but alive, when he was called up. She couldn’t bring herself to see him off, so here I was. Must have got grit in my eyes because they were watering. I wiped my face and turned away, colliding with a burly sailor who would probably have knocked me down if he hadn’t been in a lip-lock with his girl. Her long slender fingers, nails glistening with blood red polish, caressed his neck. I closed my eyes as her pale hands gently gestured in the bloodstained water beside my comrades until the shriek of a whistle shattered the image.

  “All on board now!” the guard bellowed, blasting his whistle again. They broke apart. She smiled, tears shimmering, and blew a kiss as he jumped on board. I retreated into the shadows as the train pulled out. She patted her hair down, smoothed her skirt and walked off briskly without glancing back or noticing me. Her eyes were dry now, her glance sharp and focused. She walked confidently through the crowds. A jolt of recognition coursed through me. My head ached slightly as I tried to concentrate. Why did she look familiar? Who did she remind me of? Why couldn’t I remember? I hit myself on the head in frustration, only stopping when I realized people were looking at me strangely.

  Edith. That’s who she reminded me of. We grew up together. Memories looped through my mind like the jerky, black and white movies we used to watch in the local cinema. We’d been inseparable as kids, squabbling like siblings, only to unite against anyone else. Gawky and skinny, but fierce as a little she-wolf, she’d tagged after me like a shadow, until I, trying to be one of the lads, chased her off. She had become a beauty when I last saw her, just before we left for France. She repaid me in kind, unimpressed by my uniform and high opinion of myself. I shook my head. Not so high and mighty anymore. I missed her. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry about the way I treated her. I wanted to remember the time when life was carefree, and I could remember things. I didn’t know what had become of her. I could ask Ma if I caught her in a sober moment.

   I couldn’t tell you why I limped after the woman. Some demented idea that she was Edith. I had to be sure. My leg was beginning to throb. The streets were alien in the blackout, lights almost completely dimmed, only thin strips of light visible from car headlights. I scanned the crowd until I spotted her. Even in the gloom, she was graceful enough that more than one man eyed her appreciatively. I hobbled towards her. She glanced around as I called out, just as I stumbled off the curb in the gloom and narrowly avoided being run over. I staggered backwards, stepping on toes and colliding with the shadowy figures around me, muttering apologies as they cursed and grumbled. My leg buckled under me and I fell hard. People stepped over me and around me as I tried to get up. Voices buzzed around me.

  “Disgraceful, drunk in public like that.”

  “Terrible behavior.”

I managed to get up and propped myself against the wall for a moment, head spinning. When the dizziness subsided, I headed down the nearest alley, an animal heading for cover in the dark.

Footsteps followed me. Suddenly, she was beside me.

  “Hello, soldier. You looked a little under the weather there. Here, let me help you.”

She slipped her arm through mine and guided me through the darkness. Her sweet perfume wafted over me.

  “What are you doing? I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Tell that to the marines. I’ve heard it before.” Her laugh grated on me. “Smoke?”

She rummaged in her handbag. A match flared and I saw her face up close for the first time, wreathed in smoke from the cigarette.

  “You’re not Edith.”

  “I can be if you want, darling.”

She reached out to caress my face with her crimson-tipped nails, a cool smile on her lips. I recoiled. Her expression hardened.

  “Not good enough for you?”

I shook my head wordlessly, the tears I could not shed for my brother, my mother, my crippled leg, trickling down my cheeks. She looked alarmed, then concerned.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought you were someone else, someone I knew in better times. You’re a beautiful woman, but you can’t turn the clock back. I was chasing a mirage.”

Mollified, she smiled slowly, a genuine smile this time.

   “Don’t know about all that, but you’ve got the gift of the gab. I’ll say that much for you. Let’s find somewhere we can sit down for a cup of tea and then I’ll see you home.”

  “The knight’s supposed to rescue the damsel, not the other way around,” I said. “But that’s a good idea.”

  We proceeded slowly back to the street. I glanced over my shoulder. The ghosts, momentarily foiled, lurked impotently in the alley. Until the next time.