Mum, could I wear that blue shirt tomorrow at nursery?
Blue? Whats the reason?
Emily Clarke said it looks lovely on me, it suits my eyes!
If Emily thinks so, then of course youll put on the blue shirt tomorrow.
Charlie, beaming, ran off to play with his older brother, Oliver, who already goes to primary school.
That evening Mum told Dad about the blue shirt and how it seemed to match Charlies eyes.
Dad chuckled, ruffled the younger boys hair.
Whats that, love her, son?
Right, Ill marry her in that shirt.
Well then, first youll need to study, get an education, and only after that think about marriage.
Oh, thats a long wait
Charlie fell silent.
Dad, could I marry Emily tomorrow?
Tomorrow? Where would you live then, lad?
At home, of course, the boy replied, eyes wide.
Whose home? Dad pressed on. Emilys?
No, Daddy! Charlies small eyes widened further. Emily lives with her family, and I live with mine.
No, son, you cant just do that. If you marry, you must bring Emily to live with you, earn a living, while she goes to nursery, then school, then college.
But Charlies voice trembled with tears.
Youll need to work, boy, to support a family.
Whats wrong? Why are you crying? Mum knelt beside him.
Mum, I want to marry Emily, but I dont want to work now. I want to stay in nursery, then study, and Dad said uuu
Then why the tears? Youll grow up and marry your Emily.
Yeah, Ill grow up, and someone else will take her away.
Who would that be?
I dont know maybe Sam or Tom.
Then perhaps you dont need Emily at all if someone else might claim her.
At dawn, Charlie approached the girl in a scarlet velvet dress, a huge bow perched on her long light hair. He took her hand and whispered:
Ill marry you, Clarke!
She stared at him for a heartbeat, then turned away and said,
No!
Charlie darted forward, stamping his foot, and repeated,
I said Ill marry you! Not now, okay, Emily? he squeezed her hand, gazed into her eyes but later, right?
Why not now? the girl asked, puzzled. Tom and Lucy just got married today.
They only pretended, a makebelieve ceremony. Well be real.
Alright! she nodded, and hand in hand the children trotted off to play.
At school, Charlie begged the teacher to seat him beside Emily. She refused, placing Emily with another pupil. Undeterred, Charlie stubbornly slid into the seat next to her.
Ill marry Clarke when Im grown,
The children burst into giggles, chanting, till the dough rises, bride and groom!
Children, quiet! the teacher scolded. Whats your name?
Charlie.
Charlie, youre still too young to think of such things. Sit where you belong.
No! Emily, say Ill marry you.
Emily smiled faintly.
And what will you answer, miss? the teacher asked.
Well truly marry when were older, not like Tom and Lucy, who only played at it in nursery.
Very well, the teacher thought awhile, then said, sit together.
Emily became the queen of his heart. He carried her bag, shielded her from dogs, bullies, even teachers. When she fell and scraped her knee, he hauled her to the infirmary.
In the senior years he confessed his love, genuinely.
And Emily?
She returned his smile, lifted her chin proudly.
Ill still marry you, Clarke, he called after her, hear me?
A boxer named Ian, driving his own sixseater van and training as a mechanic at the technical college, began wooing Emily. Charlie endured bruises, but never abandoned his promise.
One afternoon he passed a trio of lads loitering. He sensed a fight brewing.
Hey, kid, one slouched from the wall, come here.
You go away.
Youre cheeky, lad.
Im not a lad, Ive a name.
Listen, boy, stay away from my girl, understood? She belongs to our mate.
Wheres the mate? Too scared to speak? Tell him if he doesnt leave my girlmy wordhell get a beating.
The boy turned and ambled toward the doorway. Charlie felt the boys anger, yet walked on, aware they could pounce at any moment.
Later they ambushed him from behind, uneven in strength, and a scream cut through.
It was Emily, darting with a fence rail studded with nails, shouting and swinging wildly, smashing into the group that was punching Charlie. She struck left and right, a whirlwind of wood. Her friend Lucy, whod called for help, arrived with Oliver and another lad.
For the first time she kissed him.
That evening, after the boys washed off under a streetlamp, Lucy fetched a bottle of limetonic and smeared it liberally over the attackers.
They all sat, laughing. Charlies laughter hurt, but it roared louder than anyone elses, infectious. When the crowd escorted Emily home, she turned at the doorway.
Does it hurt, Charlie?
No, the boy shook his head, its fine.
She rose onto tiptoe and kissed him; the others stepped aside.
Forgive me, Charlie
Forgive whom? Youre my saviour, you scattered them with that rail like Bruce Lee. Im scared of you, Clarke, but Ill still marry you.
She laughed.
Later came the conscription letters.
Emily never wailed dramatically, nor clung to Charlies shoulder; they simply remained close.
Remember, Ill finish my service and marry you, hear?
Yes, for the first time since nursery, Emily said yes, Charlie, she blushed, I have a question.
Speak!
Do you love me? she whispered, hiding her flushed face in her hands.
Emily, youre daft! Havent you understood? Ill spend my whole life marrying you. Of course I love you, you silly thing.
Letters flew back and forth, each stamped with the word love. Then they stopped.
Parents and Emily waited in vain; no more mail arrived. On television, ragged boys, dirty but cheerful, fought evil.
Then three letters appeared at onceto the parents, to Emily, and to Oliver.
He wrote a cheerful note, claiming hed been on a mission in the far north, spotting penguins. He filled it with wild stories; his parents and Emily laughed and wept at the flood of feeling.
That night Emily read the letter to her parents; everyone chuckled.
Emily, asked Oliver, whys Charlie in America?
What America? Emilys mother laughed. You think Charlies in the army?
Oliver later told Emily the north didnt have penguins, so he asked where Charlie was. Only Oliver knew.
As children they invented a secret code; in a plain letter Charlie managed to tell Oliver his location with a single wordone word that kept countless mothers awake, fearing for their sons in the service.
Oliver, now a grown man, bit his fists and hid his head under a pillow, weeping for his helplessness, for the fear of his younger brother, for everything happening around him.
Oliver sent Charlie a cheery note, as needed, ending with, Dont forget you still have to marry Emily, or shell bring that fence rail after you.
And then silence.
Later the news showed a short piece: boys soldiers, hardened in battle.
Charlie! Mum clutched her chest, theres Charlie! she cried.
He seemed to hear, turned, and smiled with dimples flashing.
An ambulance rushed to Charlies house; Mum felt faint.
Hes alive, the weary doctor said, wait at home; your soldier will be back soon.
Emily could not sleep; her mother soothed her with tea, sipping herself.
Ians father and Oliver stood on the balcony, silent, smoking.
Did you know son? asked Ians father.
Yes
Good.
Ians father, remembering his own days defending a foreign land, rubbed a shoulder where a bullet had lodged.
Nothing, son, he whispered, well get through. Hold on, lad!
Dad, whispered Ians younger brother, they wont kill him?
No, lad, they wont. He still has to marry Emily.
Alright
Charlie returned.
It was early dawn; the soldier sat on a bench, legs stretched, bag abandoned, listening to birdsong and the hush of home.
Oliver stepped onto the balcony, cigarette dangling.
Smokings bad, Charlie squinted, raising his head.
Being bad is harmful, you might get an eye injury, Oliver retorted.
Hello.
Hi, brother
A few hours later, drunk with happiness, Charlie shouted from beneath the balcony, Emily Clarke, Im here to marry you!
No one complained, no one shouted for him to leave; everyone knew the joy of a soldiers return.
Mum, Dad, can I finally marry now? the ecstatic Charlie asked, spinning before the mirror.
Dress up, groom, or the bride will change her mind, his parents laughed.
Ill never change my mind, Ive waited this whole life for the day!
—
Mum, Im going to marry.
Oh? And when?
Tomorrow.
And whos the lucky lady?
Kate Clarke.
What? Whos that Clarke?
Shes in my class, Mum, Kate Clarke.
Does Dad know?
He tried to stop me, said I should speak to Granddad first, so Ill marry tomorrow.
—
Well, Granddad, youve spoken to your grandson? Charlies mother joked.
Yes, the story repeats, another Clarke, those Ivans of ours spin our lads heads, Charlies dad laughed, his own father joining in.
