Love in Coventry

Chapter 1

        Thomas Oliver, a young man of twenty, took a cigarette from behind his ear and placed it between his lips. He struggled to light its end as a breeze blew through the train station. After a couple of attempts, he finally lit his cigerette. He closed his eyes after taking a drag and released the smoke through his nose. He was relaxed, happy. He was going home. The day was passing as it normally did for Thomas, but unbknownst to him, today was the day everything would change. Today was the day Thomas would meet the love of his life.
        Thomas pushed his wavy brown hair out of his face and looked around the platform. The rain had ceased and the sun was creeping out from behind the grey clouds. The warm rays kissed his skin sending chills down his spine. A train's whistle could be heard in the distance. Thomas saw his train appear from around the bend. He took his cap from his back pocket and placed it on his mop of hair. Thomas grabbed hold of his rucksack and threw it over his shoulder and stepped closer to the edge of the platform, just before the white line.
        The train was just pulling into the station as a woman wearing a cream-colored dress with gold buttons, red shoes, a red hat, red gloves, and red lips stepped onto the platform a few feet down from Thomas. The wind blew through the station again carrying her scent of lavender with it. The fragrant smell flooded Thomas's nostrils. He was looking around for its source when he finally spotted her. He thought the train had derailed itself and crashed into his chest. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful. For a moment, he was sure he was dreaming. She looked in his direction briefly, allowing him to steal a glimpse of her eyes. They were beautiful, wild, green eyes.
        The train came full stop and with a loud whistle stirred Thomas back to consciousness. The beautiful woman in the red hat climbed onto the train. Thomas threw his cigerette on the ground and ran up the train's steps, stumbling inside. He looked around the carriage, but she had moved elsewhere. Thomas headed for the neighboring cart. He walked through and spotted the red hat. The lady was sitting towards the front of the carriage. Thomas took a deep breath and slowly approached her. 
        The woman sat alone, staring out the window. Thomas felt his heart jump into his throat as he searched for his voice. The usually cool young man found himself unusually nervous. After a moment of awkwardly standing by the side of her seat, he found his words.
       "Excuse me, Miss, but is this seat taken?" He had interrupted her thought. The woman in the red hat was even more beautiful up close. How is that possible, he thought.
       "No, it's all yours." She smiled weakly and motioned for him to sit. He reciprocated the smile and took the seat across from her. The young woman took off her red hat revealing her curly, raven hair. She placed the large hat beside her. A few curly tendrils escaped from her updo, but she quickly lifted her hand and tucked them behind her ears. Thomas wanted to be that hand. She continued to look out the window ignoring his presence.
        It had felt like an eternity to Thomas before the train's whistle blew and began to depart from the station. He wanted to break the silence, but Thomas was short of words once again. The young woman, still gazing out the window could sense the heavy air of nervousness and impatience emanating from him so she decided to break the silence first.
        When she faced him she found Thomas looking down at his hands, which were fidgeting with his cap. "Where are you heading?"
        Thomas looked up and met her green-eyed gaze. He quickly blurted out, "Coventry," before collecting himself. "I'm headed to Coventry." 
        The young woman raised her eyebrows. "Coventry? Really? I'm headed there as well."
        "You don't say?" Thomas brushed his hand through his brown hair nervously. She watched his every movement. She even watched his throat as he swallowed down his nerves. The woman decided that he was handsome, but she wasn't so easily distracted. 
        "What awaits you in Coventry?"
        "A job. I'll be working at Alvis...making armoured cars."
        The woman finally became animated. "I know that factory. Sounds exciting."
        "I guess. It's not originally what I had planned though." Now Thomas looked out the window. She studied his face again for a moment.
        "Oh?" Curiosity rang in her tone. 
        Thomas turned back to look at her. "I was studying to be a teacher. That's what I was doing here in London." He nodded at the window as they passed through the city. She followed his gaze. 
        "I see. You didn't enlist?"
        Thomas hesitated to answer, but eventually said, "I couldn't. Asthma. Bit silly, I know, but there you go. Working in the factory was the best thing I could think to do."
        She nodded, agreeing. "Doing your part."
        Thomas laughed. "Not much of a part, though, is it?"
        "That's not true. Armoured cars are incredibly important to the effort. Every contribution counts. You don't have to be at the front. You can fight from home too."
        "Sure." He found her conviction to be endearing. 
        She continued. "And I'm sure your mother is relieved at you not going to fight where you would most likely be killed. Too many mothers have already lost enough sons as it is." The young woman was almost breathless. Thomas could see this was personal for her.
        "Did you lose somebody?"
        The young woman looked down at her gloved hands and pretended to pick something off of one of them. "My older brother, John. One of the first to enlist and one of the first to die."
        "I'm so sorry."
        She smiled at him. "It's okay."
        "He was a hero."
        "Thank you, though I'm not sure my Mother would agree. She thinks the war is careless."
      Thomas thought of his friends back at home. The young woman watched his face turn dark. Not meeting her gaze, he finally spoke, "I lost people too."
        "Oh, I'm so sorry. Family?"
      "No," he smiled to himself as he spoke. "At least not blood-related family." His face went dark again. "One of me best mates who I had known since I was about five-years-old was killed in battle. A month after that we got news that a friend of mine's father had died in action as well. He was like me second dad, really." Thomas finally looked at her and could see tears welling in her eyes. He quickly reached in his pocket and took out a handkerchief. "I didn't mean to make you sad."
        The young woman took his handkerchief and thanked him with a nod. "It's not you that makes me sad." She smiled warmly. Thomas looked into the aisle to give her a moment of privacy while she dabbed the tears from her eyes. 
        The young woman looked at the initials in the corner of the handkerchief as she said, "Are you originally from Coventry?"
        "I am. Both me parents worked there until a few years back. Now they live in Warwick."
        "What does your father do?"
        "He's a farmer."
        "Exempt from the fight as well?"
        Thomas leaned back in his seat, feeling almost comfortable. He crossed his arms. "Oh, he's too old to fight now. He earned his keep in the first go around."
        "I see." 
        "And what about you?"
        She cocked her head to the side. "What about me?"
        "Is Coventry home for you as well?"
       "It is, yes." The young woman looked back into her lap. Her happy demeanor fading.       
        "So what's brought you back?"
        "I just finished school."
        Thomas pressed her further. "Where?"
        "Paris." She looked up. 
        "Oh." Thomas felt himself sit up a little straighter. "I see." Her wealth finally hit him.
        "Shouldn't you be sitting in first class then?"
        "Why? It's a free country. I can sit where I like." The young woman became defensive.
        Thomas put his hands up to surrender. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." Her demeanor softened.
       She leaned in a little. Thomas leaned in as well. His eyes focused in on her lips. The young woman looked around for a moment before she spoke. Thomas quickly looked back at her eyes before she caught him. "I didn't want to run into anyone...," she continued. "Familiar."
       Thomas sat back, half amused and half confused. "Who up there is so terrible that you can't face them?"
       "Well," she began.
        "Sounds a bit cowardly," Thomas said interrupting her.
        The young woman was slightly offended by his tone. "I've been gone a long time and I just didn't want to be bombarded with dozens of questions is all." She sat back and crossed her arms. 
       "Mhmm. I see." Thomas chuckled.
        The young woman shook her head at his teasing. She bit her lip to keep from smiling, but she eventually joined in with Thomas and laughed at herself. "I know. It's probably dumb." She uncrossed her arms and relaxed. "But the kind of people I know can be very invasive and annoying."
        "I get it. Now that you're going home, what are you going to do with this newfound freedom?"
       "Freedom?" She snorted. "I don't get to know the luxury."
       "Pardon?" Now Thomas felt offended. 
      "No, I get to do what all girls like me do. Get married to the man my father approves of and become a dull housewife." Thomas was stunned by her honesty and she noticed. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I speak without thinking. I've never been very mindful of my mouth. My mother and father have always had to discipline me for it."
       "Nothing wrong with speaking your mind, I suppose, but why do you feel that way?"
       The young woman shrugged her shoulders. "Because it is that way."
       "But, if you don't mind me saying, you obviously come from a wealthy family. Surely, you don't have to get married. You're set for life. You can be your own master."
        "You're sweet." She leaned over and patted his knee. He lightly jolted at her touch.
       Thomas didn't appreciate her attitude. "Please, don't patronize me."
        She was taken aback by his comment. "I didn't mean-"
        "It's not that I'm unsympathetic to your predicament. Lots of women, regardless of class don't always have a choice, but your kind are allotted more luxuries in life than others simply by being born into the right family."
        "I might come from money, but I have no ownership over it. My father could turn me away if he wished to, especially if I decided to disobey and then what would become of me?"
        "You'd be free to make your own choices."
        "Money. No money. We're slaves to it all. There is no freedom while money is the motivation behind everything in this world."
        "You have a rather bleak outlook on life."
        "I'm sorry if my opinions offend you."
        "No you're not."
        The young woman furrowed her brow. "Yes, I am!"
        Thomas put up his hand to stop her. "Let me just say this. Yeah, it is unfortunate that you may not have the freedom to marry for love, something that might be more of a privilege of my kind, but you have money to keep you warm, to keep you fed. You just came from Paris where you received a first class education, something most people can't have, but you'll never work a day in your life. I just think you should be a little more grateful is all. You're going home to a large home filled with silver plates and pearls and I am going home to a factory." 
        "Now who is sounding sorry for themselves?" She scoffed.
        "It's called perspective." Thomas looked away from her.
        The young woman was surprised at how upset she had made this stranger. "Look, I'm glad you were thinking with such modernity regarding my future. I wish my father felt the same way, but your kind, as you put it, just cannot understand." 
        "And you clearly can't see beyond your own nose." Thomas regretted the words as they left his lips. He could see the storm brewing within the beautiful woman. Her eyes had become brighter and glazed with frustration. 
        The young woman looked away from Thomas before saying something she'd probably regret. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She shook her head at the ridiculous fight they were having. The young woman didn't like it when people were upset with her so she decided to take the high road, as she saw it. She mimed handing something to Thomas. 
        Thomas sat there, arms crossed, legs spread, looking at her as if she was mad. "What are you doing?" he finally spoke. 
        "I am passing you the olive branch." She motioned for him to accept the branch. "Go on. Take it."
        Thomas took hold of the invisible olive branch and looked at it. "Err, thanks?" He placed it beside him.
        "I realize what I said was upsetting. I didn't mean for my comments to come off as...," she looked at the air above her searching for the word.
        "Bratty?" He smiled proudly. Despite her brattiness, Thomas was still stupidly attracted to her.
        The young woman pouted. "I would have said something else, but fine. I'll go with bratty if it appeases you." 
        "It does. For now." They sat silently listening to the sounds of the train. The woman stared at Thomas. His blue eyes reflected the sunlight coming through the window. They looked translucent, glass-like. Thomas met her gaze and the two young people shared a moment. The young woman felt uncomfortable with him looking into her eyes. She felt he could see inside her. She blinked her eyes and looked away, but Thomas kept his eyes on her. His blue eyes moved down from her face to her neck, then down her dress and to her legs. He wasn't undressing her, but a stranger watching him might get such an impression. Thomas was just taking her in. Memorizing her. 
        "My older brother," said the young woman.
        Thomas, now focused on her face, asked, "The hero?"
       "No, another brother."
        "Another brother?"
        "Yes, thankfully for my family as he is now the last male to carry the name. He will eventually inherit my father's business, the house we live in. He gets it all."
       "And you're worried about that?"
        "Not necessarily worried, but he doesn't exactly like me. We have never...gotten along. If I didn't marry, if I decided to be my own master, like you said before," she paused. "I suppose sometimes I worry he will turn on me later on."
        "And so you now feel an obligation to get married?"
        "The obligation was always there, but yes, essentially."
        "That's why you're upset to go home." Thomas didn't think about it before, but the thought of this woman marrying someone, other than him, saddened him. 
        "Even if you have everything, everything doesn't necessarily equal happiness. So you see, money or no money, shelter or no shelter, food or no food, all those things don't always mean you will be happy. Or in some circumstances, unhappy."
        "I understood what you were saying before. I guess I was just quick to feel you were disregarding those beneath you."
       "It's just this rule that wealthy families must marry into wealthy or wealthier families to keep the money ever flowing. It will be my job to find more money for our family and to procreate. Not to work, not to do anything meaningful."
        "Well, having children can be meaningful."
       "You know what I mean."
        Thomas nodded. "Yeah," he said, agreeing.  
       The young woman smiled revealing a small dimple in the corner of her mouth. Thomas wanted to kiss her. He hardly knew her, really, but he wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her until his last breath. Thomas quickly wiped the thought from his head in fear the beautiful woman could read his thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"
        She shook her head. "Nothing, just realizing we don't even know each other's names, but we fight like we're friends." She took off her red gloves, placed them in her her lap, and reached out her hand. "What is your name, worthy opponent?"
        Thomas took her soft, cold hand in his rough, warm one. Electricity jolted up his left arm and fired straight into his heart. "Thomas. Thomas Oliver."
        The young woman smiled showing off her dimple again. She introduced herself. "I'm Mary Davenport."
        "Mary," Thomas whispered to himself.
        They bowed their heads to one another. "Well, Mr. Oliver, it's been lovely making your acquaintance."
        "Yeah, I mean, likewise." They continued to hold each other's hands. Mary looked at his hand that engulfed hers. She liked how warm and safe it felt. Thomas interrupted her thoughts. "Wait, you said Davenport? As in the Davenports who occupy Whittle Grove?" He released her hand.
        "Yes, you know the place?"
        "Like the back of me hand. I grew up only a few miles from there."
        "Interesting. It's a wonder we never ran into each other before, well before I was shipped off to Paris."
        "I don't exactly mingle with your kind, Miss Mary, remember?"
        She bit her lip a little embarrassed. "Right..." The two of them looked away from each other. An idea popped into Mary's head. "Perhaps, one day, you could take me to Alvis."
        He looked at her confused. "What?"
        "You know, you could show me around, teach me about armoured cars. Maybe I could help out there. What do you think?"
        "But why on earth would you want to do that?" Thomas continued to look at her like she was crazy.
        "You said I'll never have to work a day in my life. Well, how about you put me to work? Make me feel useful in some way. The boys are heading to war. I want to contribute too."
        "Mary, I mean, Miss Mary," he corrected himself. "A factory isn't exactly a place for a lady and I don't think you can wear anything like that there." He motioned to her dress. "Might make a mess of yourself."         
        She looked down at her dress and laughed. Thomas had fallen in love with the sound of her laugh by now. "Right. No dresses then."
        "I'm really not sure of what use you could be there other than a distraction for the men, but if it's what you wish..."
        "It is." Mary's mind was made up. 
        "Well, then. Just say when and I will take you away." Mary's face suddenly darkened, causing Thomas to wonder if he said something wrong.
        "I...I think I'd like that, Mr. Oliver." Thomas didn't understand the hint of sadness in her tone.
        Mary changed the subject and the two new friends continued to chat. Eventually Mary fell asleep and Thomas tried to, but couldn't. Instead, he watched over Mary while the train pushed on. There was so much brewing in her mind. Even in sleep, Mary could not find peace. A few times her brow would furrow as if she was dreaming something unpleasant. What could someone like her truly have to worry about? Thomas wondered to himself.

        The train finally pulled into the Coventry Station. Thomas wanted the ride to last forever. He didn't want to say goodbye to Mary Davenport, but he leaned over and gently shook her awake. Mary slowly opened her eyes, quickly shielding them from the sunlight coming through the window.
        "We're here, Miss Mary."
       "Here?" she asked sleepily.
        "Coventry." Mary's eyes fully opened. She too seemed disappointed, though Thomas thought for other reasons. The two sat up and gathered their belongings. Thomas volunteered to carry her bags as they headed for the exit.
      "Could I walk you home?" Thomas knew the answer, but wanted to ask regardless.
       "Thank you, but no. There will be a car waiting for me." Thomas took her hand as he helped her onto the platform. She straightened the wrinkles on her dress once she was on the platform. Thomas placed her bags on the ground beside her and flung his own back over his shoulder. Mary faced Thomas and held out her hand.
        "I'm so glad to have met you, Thomas Oliver." He looked down at her lovely hand and took hold of it once more.
        "Yes, it was a nice ride thanks to you, Miss Mary."
        "Please, it's just Mary."
        "Mary," he complied.
        She smiled revealing the dimple, which caused the overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss her to wash over Thomas all over again. Mary released her hand and put her red gloves back on. She took hold of her bags."Thank you, Thomas."
        "Sure."
        Before leaving, Mary looked over Thomas's face. She wanted a mental picture of him to take with her.
        Thomas swallowed back his urge to hold her. "G'day, Mary." She smiled and headed for her ride. Thomas stood there in thought as he watched her walk away. 

        Mary approached a man standing by a black car, who Thomas would later learn was her father. He greeted Mary with a pat on her head. 
        "Who was that boy, Mary."
        "Nobody, he just helped me with my bags."
        "Okay, darling."
        Mary climbed into the car. She looked back in the direction of the platform and watched as Thomas walked away.