Chapter three- Thomas

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"In 1918, November, Birmingham, 'Germany surrendered... It's good news! The soldiers will soon return to their hometown.' I flipped through the newspaper, trying to pick out some useful news to share with everyone. This news was very uplifting.

Even after four years of being a part-time family teacher, I was still Shelby's only habit of reading newspapers. Four years ago, I started using newspapers to teach the children to read, just like my father once did.

But unfortunately, not to boast, these children don't have the political talent I had back then.

'Harry, don't grab your sister's hair,' the child named Harry, who was called out, reluctantly put down his restless hands and took the knife and fork I handed him.

At the breakfast table, the children were eating quietly, and I continued to browse the newspaper. Every day, I paid attention to the constantly updated list of casualties in the newspaper. 'Shelby' had never appeared in that section. But I also knew that on the battlefield, there would be many nameless bodies.

To the common people, this war was nothing more than a brief outing, an exciting adventure. Those young people were afraid of missing the opportunity for a splendid death in their lifetime, so they eagerly rushed to enlist, cheering and singing on the train. They were all hot-headed, forgetting the mundane world.

My brother, on the other hand, was quite clear-headed. This was something he said, rare for his alcohol-soaked brain, and he said it when my father wanted to send him to the army for training before he passed away.

Good people don't live long, and harm lasts for thousands of years. This saying is truly not wrong.

Maria is Martha's eldest daughter, and she resembles her mother, a gentle and obedient girl. If she were born into a wealthy family in London, she would definitely be the most sought-after presence in the marriage market.

'I miss Dad so much, Aunt Demi,' I looked at the girl next to me who was helping me wash the dishes. She was so young and beautiful, and she looked so fragile. She had already endured enough hardship, and you couldn't bear to tell her the painful reality. After all, at this age, I still believed in Santa Claus.

'They will come back, dear. Just like an adventure that has ended, Dad and uncles will come back with medals to embrace our little Maria.'

Martha's health had deteriorated after giving birth to her fourth child in 1915, becoming thin, weak, and sickly, as if a gust of wind could blow her away. During the war, resources were scarce, and medicines were even more precious. Her illness could only be postponed. Polly needed to support the family, and Finn always played with his nephews and nieces, while Ada personally managed them. The responsibility of taking care of the children fell on me and little Maria. In her, I saw a shadow of my past, a girl accustomed to taking care of others, so among Martha's four children, I cherished her the most and always liked to keep her by my side. If circumstances allowed, I really wanted to teach her to dance, ride horses, hunt, play the piano, and teach her everything I knew.

The days that followed were as gray and dull as the Birmingham sky, with one ordinary day after another. But the soldiers gradually returned to their hometown, and this deserted city was slowly recovering. The quiet streets were filled with pedestrians, and the bars gradually became lively.

Many people would wait at the train station for their loved ones. They hugged each other on the platform, tears of joy in their eyes. Those who didn't meet their loved ones would look at the reunited people with envy, exchange a few words of good luck, and then eagerly wait for the next train to arrive. If they didn't get the news today, they would continue waiting tomorrow. For now, no news was the best news.

Mrs. Shelby (Thomas Shelby x OC)Where stories live. Discover now