Young Writers Society

(edit)

In a little over an hour, the steam engine came to a loud halt in Cherryworth Station. While it had departed originally with hardly any passengers, its many stops had now accumulated quite a number. Most of the pupils of the two schools were crammed inside the train- only about a third came by car or other means.

On the platform, a great hullaballoo erupted, so suddenly that it was almost as if a switch had been flicked.

“This is it then,” said Mamma. Effy’s ears clung onto her soft voice, not wanting its last few warming notes to float off into the crowd. “This is as far as I can go.”

She bent down to kiss her children’s cheeks, and squeeze their tiny shoulders in a hug so laden with love that it could topple the world. It had been so many years since she had been in their shoes- standing small on this very platform, the rest of forever looming in front of her.

“Goodbye Mamma,” Effy whispered, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. She gave a little sniff, and blinked speedily to prevent the tears from flowing. Her nanny’s voice rang in her ears, and she was determined to do as she was told, for once, by not crying.

“It isn’t goodbye Effy,” Mamma gave a watery laugh. “Not at all. You’re coming home in just a few months, and shall see me, and your father, and everyone then. Yes?”

Effy nodded, her dark curls bouncing. When Mamma pulled away, neither she or Tommy could bear to look to anywhere but her face. They were studying every inch of it, and committing it to memory. Yes, just a few months.

Mamma soon disappeared into the blur of people, dabbing her eyes with a little white hanky. She didn’t dare look back, or who knew what sort of scene she would make. Effy could remember, with fading vividness, the day that Robert was sent away to school, and Margo after him. How Mamma hated sending her children away, but she had told them many times that it was necessary, and no amount of tears or yearning would change that.

“Well,” Tommy said, when Mamma had vanished completely. “Now it’s our turn.”

“I don’t want to leave you Tommy,” murmured Effy, quiet as a mouse. Tommy hugged her quickly, and didn’t reply.

“Until Christmas then,” he said, unable to look his twin in the eyes.

“Oh, Tommy-“

“No,” said Tommy. “Shush now. Don’t get worked up, you’ll only embarrass yourself. This has to be done, alright?”

Already the few teachers that had been sent from the schools were calling for their pupils in a hurried way.

“Take this,” he said, and handed her a piece of card, folded. Effy knew what it was before her hand closed around it. When they were very young- five or six- the two of them had found an old playing card under the piano. Neither could agree on who would have it- and there would be no point giving it to their parents, it was only a playing card after all- so Tommy carefully ripped it in two, and they each kept a piece. It became a sort of charm. A sign that they were two of a whole. But Effy had left hers on her bedside cabinet the previous evening, assuming that such silly things would not be allowed. “As long as you have your half, and I have mine,” Tommy smiled. “We won’t be apart, not really. You must keep it hidden though.”

Effy quickly tucked it inside her tight blouse cuff.

“Thank you,” she said.

Tommy shrugged.

“We’d better be going,” he said. Effy agreed. And each twin gave one last glance at the other, before truly embarking on the rest of their lives.