If I Can't Have you

(5) Wartime Goodbyes

1914

"Fuck... fuck, no." Max mutters, as Arthur flips the kitchen table.

The post had just come and each of the men had a letter telling them that they were being shipped to France in 2 days, and that a doctor would be sent round to analyse their health at some time before then.

"I'm too pretty for war," John says, as Martha cups his face, her hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders as she buries her face against his chest, her baby bump pressed to his stomach.

"Tom? What's happening?" Ada asks, hugging her brother, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, as he stares straight forwards at the wall in front of him, unable to formulate any coherent sentences.

Polly wasn't dealing with it much better, she had hurriedly turned to wipe away a tear that had fallen.

"Mima," Finn giggles, holding onto her shaky hand, he had no understanding of what was happening, he was just excited everyone he loved was standing in the same room.

Even if it might be for the last time, not that he knew that.

-

"I passed the doctors exam," Max whispers, as the three bestfriends sat in Jemimas lounge.

"Me too," John adds, "they want us to get the 9:08 train tomorrow morning."

"What are you planning to do? Because I'm not just sitting around until we have to leave. I want to get absolutely plastered." Max says.

"I'm going to stay with Martha, want to spend as much time with her as possible." John replies, looking to Jemima, "you're going to come and say goodbye, right?"

"Yeah.. of course," Jemima nods, though the word goodbye when it came to these two made her want to vomit.

"Let's get drunk," Max sighs, drearily raising to his feet and clapping his hands together.

"I'll walk with you to the pub, then carry on home," John says. 

The three of them exited the house, unsure if it would be the last time they were stood together, walking through the streets of Small Heath.

"You two have some fun," John smiles sadly at them, before walking away to go home as Max and Jemima enter the Garrison.

It seems as though most people had come to the pub, as you could barely take a step without accidentally bumping into somebody.

"Fucking hell," Max says, as they finally make it to the bar, where Harry and another man were being rushed off of their feet trying to serve everyone.

"I'm Logan, how can I help?"

"Three rums, and three vodkas." Max orders, "with a glass of lemonade as a chaser."

"Shots?" Jemima queries.

"I want to get hammered. I want to forget about life." Max mumbles, doing all three shots of rum as soon as they were placed in front of him.

"I'm going to add one of these to my drink, I don't do shots." Jemima says, tipping one of the vodka shots into her lemonade, and Max shrugs, doing the other two vodka shots, "reckon that should do me for a while."

-

The crowd had dispersed and there was only a couple of people left in the pub, Max and Arthur had been carried home by Danny, but Fred and Tommy were still sat at the bar, Jemima at the other end talking to Logan - the bartender.

"I'm going tomorrow," Logan tells her, "part of the Royal Air Corps."

"Really? You can fly? That's awesome." Jemima says, "well... normally it would be awesome."