Shell shock

Chapter 4 labour

A few days after I began work at the factory, my mother passed. This made me become more hollow then I had ever become resulting in me doing nothing but working like a mindless pawn for Arthur, and on this one evening, after my ritual night terror I arose, almost  empty and lifeless than the evening prior. As though I had almost become numb to everything on the outside despite being riddled with my mental infection. It had been a two weeks since I had came to Manchester and I had a routine: wake up, eat with Grace and Arthur, get properly dressed for the day, work in the factory with absolutely no socialising, leave on time, eat an evening meal which usually consisted of bread and some other food group before finally collapsing in bed and having one of my casual episodes. Then my cycle would repeat.
However this day would be the beginning of a new. You see, an old colleague of mine, Thomas Booker, would be starting this very Monday. This would put me in a predicament as everything I was hiding from. He knew the grim reality and could and would expose it to my peers.
So as I got dressed unaware of what was about to unfold, my now, at this point decent, acquaintance walked in.
"Will, no breakfast for today. I couldn't afford it, but do you reckon you can mentor this new employee for me?" He asked me.
"Of course do we have a name?" I ask back.
"Yes, Mr. booker."
"Do you have a first name?" I ask nervously.
"No, I'm sorry, do you recognise it?"
"Erm, no just curious." I reply hastily
"Well, come on then we best get going." We leave and calmly walk to the factory.
As we arrive I am directed to someone sitting on a bench. As I approach I instinctively recognise those dark brown eyes and bushy eyebrows. However before I can speak he says.
"Owen? Please say it's not you mentoring me. I wouldn't trust you with any machinery or gas."
"Thomas. I'm afraid I am." I say begrudgingly.
"How did you get a job here?" He asked, getting louder in tone and leaping up.
However Arthur intervened with "listen I don't need you two to get on, I just need you two to make some product. Will just train him and you don't have to speak after today, deal?"
"Yeah sure, just keep him from anything that could stab me in the back." Tom quickly states.
"I didn't -" before I could finish Arthur shot me a look of disapproval, so I begrudgingly began to teach Thomas.
As I began to show Thomas around, the first question he asked was.
"So, Owen," he said in a sly tone, "what exactly is made here."
I point to the Lee Enfield mould on the moulding machine. "We are an arms manufacturer."
"Of course you're still working for king George, of course you are, did you learn nothing from war?" He asked me.
"I learnt that sometimes you need to turn your back on your country, which is why I lived in France." I take a deep breath. "This, this was the only job I could get, and you know what Tom, I'm good at it." I say confidently.
"Yeah, just wish Jame and Anthony could see where you are now, you sellout!" He screams at me.
"Yeno call me what you want Tom, but since you were Sargent, you could've done more."
"They both died in front of you!" He declares.
"Look Tom, have your opinions, but let me do my job."
"Sure, whatever , I just hope you acknowledge the blood stained on your hands."
After that conversation the rest of the tour and demonstration went as well as it could have. This job did have more side effects then just Tom tho. I began to feel industrialised, more machine than human.
As I was pressing the material into the mould, I was called up to Arthur's office. So obviously to avoid punishment I went. From the second I opened the door, Arthur had a dashing smile. Sat in his office chair with his charming suit wrapped around him like a well dressed gift.
"Will, I have some great news." Before I could ask he says, "you are thee best worker we have ever had. So I am pleased to announce that you are now manager!" He claims with high zest.
I stand their emotionless. Arthur becomes uncomfortable by my cold stare, until i shake his hand and thank him for the opportunity, remaining cold throughout.
"Well, we are goin the town hall tavern, you are expected to be there." He said awkwardly
"I will, don't worry sir." I say