The Runt
When little five-year-old Millie was sent off to spend the summer with her grandma, she was beside herself with tears. She didnt want to go at all she barely remembered her gran and the idea of being left without her parents felt horribly frightening. But Mum and Dad had made up their minds. Dad worked in the council, Mum was a schoolteacher, and both were busy from morning till night. Millie was mostly left at home with the neighbour watching over her, but the neighbour had three kids of her own, all a bit older, and couldnt possibly keep a close eye on the lot.
Mum tried her best to reassure Millie: Youll see how brilliant it will be at Grandmas. Shes got chickens to feed, and theres a lovely little goat as well youll become friends, and shell give you fresh milk to drink. For a while, Millie stopped crying, picturing a goat somehow pouring her a glass of milk, which was baffling.
They were all set to leave early in the morning. Dad had managed to arrange a horse and cart from work a real treat in those days. They loaded up Millies little suitcase, and set off, with Mum and Millie bouncing along the lanes out towards the countryside village.
The countryside had only just calmed down after all the trouble from the war not that Millie remembered any of that. She only recalled Dad popping in from time to time in his greatcoat with a cap, then dashing off again, while Mum wiped away tears. Millie remembered mostly how hungry she used to be always asking, Mum, please, just a bit of bread, and Mums eyes would fill with tears, unable to give her any.
These days, Millie wasnt hungry anymore, but a new problem had cropped up: having to go the whole summer without Mum. She couldnt even imagine how long that was all summer sounded endless.
But actually, the journey was pretty exciting. She found it funny how the lad driving the cart called out to the horse, how the grey mare flicked her tail at the flies, and even when the horse dropped apples along the road, which made her giggle.
The trip took ages. Millie ate, nodded off, and woke only when she heard a sudden, Whoa there! and realised theyd arrived at Grandmas cottage.
Saying goodbye to Mum set off another round of tears, and only after Mum managed to peel her away and get going did the dust settle behind the cart. Millie sobbed, smearing tears and dust all over her face.
Grandma chatted away, patting her on the back, but Millie wasnt really listening. It wasnt until a large, multi-coloured cat strolled over that she finally stopped crying. Millie had never seen such a piebald cat before. The cat inspected her seriously, and Grandma said, Meet Poppy, she keeps the mice at bay around here. You can give her a stroke, shes ever so gentle.
Sure enough, Poppy the cat let herself be stroked, sending Millie into such a calm state she forgot about the whole ordeal. Gran gave her a hearty meal, then scrubbed her in the old tin bath. Like something straight out of a fairytale, Millie thought as she drifted off to sleep.
There was no time for moping. Every day brought something new, from helping Grandma milk the goat to watching the roosters spar in the yard, to seeing Poppy climb trees all sorts of things you never got to do in the city. But the real fun began when she met the boy next door.
He was ginger-haired, freckled, and looked about nine or ten. He was the first to spot the new face across the way. Hey there, runt, whered you come from? he called out. Millie was taken aback by being called a runt but didnt reply. He hopped the fence and came right over. Whats your name, then? Millie, she replied shyly. Im Jamie, he said, sticking out a grubby hand. She wasnt sure what to do, so he grabbed her hand and shook it firmly, giving her palm a good squeeze.
Thats how their friendship started. He kept calling her the runt, shed pretend to get offended and call him Freckles. Hed act all huffy, threatening her with stinging nettles, but in truth, they became inseparable.
Gran never really had time to keep a close eye on Millie as long as she was fed, in one piece, all was well. She wasnt a fan of Jamie, though. Id steer clear if I were you, dear, she advised, else hell teach you all sorts of mischief. Him and his grandad, always swearing and carrying on.
Jamie was being raised by his grandad since his parents had been killed in the war. He barely remembered them. Grandad had once been a boatswain in the navy and wasnt exactly what youd call traditional when it came to raising kids. He could spin quite a yarn, peppered with such language that even the English language seemed to blush. It was no surprise Jamie picked up a few choice turns of phrase himself.
Millie didnt get most of the rude words, so they didnt bother her. In return, Jamie introduced her to a world of adventure shed never have found in the city.
Every day was a new escapade. Jamie would wander into the woods without worry, dragging Millie along. He seemed to just know where he was going, a sort of built-in compass. With him, she wasnt scared of the dense thickets, the wobbly ground underfoot nothing at all. Only once did she let out a squeal when a huge hare shot out from under their feet. Jamie just laughed, What, city girl? Scared of a rabbit?
Theyd stagger home smeared in berry juice, baskets brimming with wild mushrooms.
Oh, and splashing about in the river on sweltering days was the best. Millie couldnt swim at all, but Jamie taught her. Hed support her as she learned, and she couldnt believe his strength not realising, of course, how objects are light in water.
One day he said, Fishing tomorrow. Dont sleep in. Millie had seen older boys fishing before and was intrigued. Jamie grudged that he didnt have proper kit, but somehow, the next day, hed got his hands on a rod and bits how, she never found out, though she guessed hed swapped something for them, as he never had any money. Shed once seen Jamies grandad use stinging nettles for discipline, much to the shock of the neighbours, and after witnessing such an ordeal, she gave the old man a wide berth. Jamie took it in his stride, grumbling to Millie, Never seen a red bum before, have you? She hadnt, and looked at him with pity, asking, Does it hurt much? Nah, not really. Its the switch you need to watch out for; that really stings.
Come morning, Millie was up with the dawn. Jamie whistled for her, and before Gran could blink, Millie had vanished. Jamie collected a handful of grasshoppers, and off they went to the river. Jamie, ever resourceful, fashioned a rod from hazel, used a cork for a float, and baited the hook. Now sit still if you want to catch something, he told her. Millie barely breathed, eyes wide, admiring Jamie. Hes so clever, she thought, watching his every move.
They didnt come back empty-handed, hauling two shiny chub all the way home. Take one for your gran she can fry it up, Jamie said, handing a fish to her, then gave the other to his grandad. Jamie never held a grudge thats just the way things went, ship-shape. His grandad wasnt really angry, just keeping order.
Gran was delighted with the fish but still wished Millie would make friends elsewhere. Not that she really thought her granddaughter was listening.
Summer for Millie flew by in a flash. She was stunned when the same cart pulled up at the gate, with her mum and the familiar driver. She was happy to see Mum, of course, but suddenly she didnt want to leave at all. She pleaded with Mum to let her stay just a bit longer, and, for added effect, she let slip a salty phrase picked up from Jamies grandad. Her mum nearly fainted in shock, swept Millie into a hug, and that was that there was no arguing. She hadnt even got to say goodbye to Jamie…
Years passed.
Staff Sergeant Millie White lay with her eyes closed in an army railway carriage, remembering her lifes twists and turns. She knew that once the war picked up again, she wouldnt have time to reminisce like this. But that summer in the village came back to her crystal clear, as if it had only been yesterday.
The front greeted her with fire and smoke. She found her way to the medical tent of her regiment. A silver-haired, red-eyed surgeon met her with a smile.
Miss Captain, he prompted, his rank hidden by his coat. Captain, Staff Sergeant she started to report, but he waved her off, I can see youre a sergeant, love. Taking her papers, he glanced at them, Take a rest while its quiet. Wont last long. Im fine ready for anything Good, good. Go report to the company commander. Hes acting CO for now. He pointed her towards headquarters.
Millie asked a couple more soldiers the way. One older fellow advised, Best keep to the trenches, love. Wouldnt want a German sniper thinking youre a target.
To be fair, she was a sight slender, striking, new uniform tight around her waist. Soldiers couldnt help but look as she passed. She overheard someone muttering, Such a beauty in this hellhole, blimey She ignored the hellhole part, but found herself blushing.
She ducked through the canvas flap into the command dugout. The young radio operator jumped to attention. Discipline, Millie noted to herself, waving him back to his seat. Is the CO in? she asked. He started to stand again, but she stopped him. Yes maam. He fiddled with the radio, Falcon, this is Spring, do you copy? On the other end, someone replied. Major, Falcon on the line! A gruff voice boomed behind the canvas, Cameron! Cameron, get recon group to left flank. The Jerries are up to something! What? Youll go yourself?! and then a few choice words that made the young radio lad blush, especially in front of a lady. The major slammed the phone down, They think they can rest, while were still hard at it, and added a few more expletives for good measure.
Sir, Staff Sergeant reporting she started as she ducked in, then stopped. Jamie!
The major stared in disbelief. Freckles! For a minute, neither could speak Jamie peered at Millies smiling face, and finally, it clicked: Millie?! The runt?!
There was no need for explanations. They threw their arms around each other, speaking in a jumble, laughing, gazing at one another, unable to get words out fast enough.
He pulled out a tobacco pouch, tore off a scrap of newspaper, and was about to roll a cigarette, then looked at her, Do you mind? Not at all. She rummaged in her kit and handed him a few packets of cigarettes. Do you smoke? No, but they included them in the rations, so I figured theyd come in handy. You were right! he chuckled, lighting up contentedly.
Vaughan Jamie called out to the radio operator have a smoke, mate. And put the kettle on for the sergeant and me. The lad grinned, Will do, sir.
From time to time, Jamie had to grab the phone, giving curt orders, but always glanced at Millie, leaving the other end of the line wondering at his sudden politeness.
Then the fighting began brutal, relentless. The medical tent overflowed with casualties, some shipped off to hospital, others buried. The front line shifted constantly, which meant setting up the aid station all over again. The medics barely slept only Millie, it seemed, never tired.
Every chance she got, Millie would run to Jamies dugout. Against all odds, what every person longs for happened she fell in love with her Jamie, with a desperate, tender passion, the kind you only get in wartime, when happiness is always one moment from vanishing. He felt as if hed never really stopped loving her since they were children.
Theyd lie side by side in the dugout, kissing gently, sharing whispered words that seemed to go straight to the heart, even when time between the battles was short and precious.
Heavy clouds always blanketed the sky, and the soldiers learned to recognise the planes by sound alone which were theirs, which the enemys, and which way they were headed. If anyone heard the unmistakable thunder of British planes, they’d mutter, Ours are off to give it to the Jerries! Or, hearing a different sound, The buggers are coming for us this time!
And then, chaos. Bombs, shellfire, anti-aircraft guns the noise beyond description.
Yet in the medical tent, no one panicked or abandoned their posts. They worked tirelessly, the doctors shouting instructions over the din so assistants could hear.
Then suddenly, silence. Another attack repelled, the last casualty bandaged.
For the first time, Millie felt a tremble in her legs and a wave of nausea. An unnameable worry pushed her to rush out, desperate to find Jamie. What if hes been hit and I wasnt there she thought.
But where Jamies dugout had been, there was nothing now but a gaping crater. Millie stared in horror, convinced she must be dreaming. Jamie couldnt be gone. It seemed impossible. Still, soldiers removed their hats, standing in silent respect.
An older soldier gently put his arm round her shoulders. Hes got himself a fine grave, love deep. Come on now, don’t just stand there let yourself weep, dont bottle it in.
Millie howled, biting her fingers on her railway bunk as the train rattled her into the dark, heading back from the front. She was going home to have Jamies baby.
Years drifted by.
Her daughter grew up and had children of her own. Granny Millie became a grandmother four times over. Today was a special day her youngest grandson was coming to visit. The kitchen was filled with all of his favourites. Millie sat, album on her knee, looking at the black-and-white and colour photos. The older grandkids already had children; her great-grandchildren. She had to rack her brains sometimes to remember everyones name and birthdays.
There were brown eyes, blue eyes, all sorts of children smiling from the photos, but only one with ginger hair and freckles. She loved them all, at least thats what she always told herself.
And then, the doorbell rang. For a moment, Millie moved as nimbly as she had in her youth, hurrying to the door. Standing there was a naval officer, gold stripes shining, ginger hair, freckles, and a grin just like that boy shed loved so long ago. Her Jamie come to see her in the smile of the next generation.
