World's Apart

No News is Good News

Tap...Tap....Tap....Click....Swoosh.

Ali tears the page from the type writer and glances over the words one more time before stamping it heavily with the badge of the Home Office. She added the letter to the gathering pile beside her and sighed. The stack of letters beside her would, by tomorrow morning, be informing families all across Britain that their son was either killed or missing. As she lay the new letter on top of the pile her heart sank for the strangers family she was writing to. Sergent Edwinstowe had been killed several days ago following the retreat in France. The letters on the page were black, cold and to the point. Ali tried to imagine the face of his wife as she read the letter and wondered whether Sergent Edwinstowe had left behind any children. The thought horrified her and Ali instinctively cradled her bump beneath her dress. It doesn't bear thinking about.

Ali shook the thought from her mind and gathered the papers in her hands as she rose from her chair. The office was busy today, the tapping of type writer keys was brittle in the air and the click clack of shoes along the wooden floor echoed off the white wash walls. Ali weaved between the desks and people towards her supervisors office. The letters on John Steelman's desk were already piled high, awaiting his signature before being sealed in an envelope and sent.

Ali hovered reluctanty at the door before entering.

"Miss Dawes," Mr Steelman peered over his large broadsheet newspaper.

Ali's mouth twitched uncomfortably "It's been Mrs Harrington for several months now Sir," Ali uttered.

Mr Steelman rolled his eyes playfully as he folded the newspaper in half and stood up from his desk.

"Come here my girl," he beckoned her in as he perched on the edge of his desk.

John Steelman was a man in his mid to late thirties. A middle class man, he'd somehow avoided conscription and found himself in a senior position at the home office. Steelman was brash and arrogant and considered himself a ladies man. His dark hair was slick and oiled and pushed back from his face. His face was angular and sharp and his features held a certain cruelty to them. He wore an ill fitting three piece suit, one in which the trousers were too tight and left very little to the imagination. He made Ali uncomfortable, there was little else to it.

"Sorry Sir I must be getting back to my desk-" Ali started as she backed away towards the door.

Suddenly she came to a halt as her back collided with another person entering the office.

"Umfft..." Ali huffed as the person behind her dropped a pile of papers onto the floor.

The papers splayed out around their feet and fluttered across the floor.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Ali flusters as she crouches down and scoops up letter after letter.

"Don't worry about it," the lady smiles as she too bends down to pick up the fallen papers.

"Thanks," the lady smiles as Ali hands her back the papers.

"Oh wait there's one more," Ali reaches for the last page. Her delicate fingers grasp the edge of the paper and turn the page towards her.

Suddenly her eyes go wide. The world around her fogs and her ears become muffled to the voices around her.

His name... Its his name.

The lady reaches out for the paper, blissfully unaware of Ali's world shattering around her.

Ali grips the page tight as her glossy eyes tear over the writings.

'We regretfully inform you that on this day, Aircraftman Jack Collins is missing in action; presumed dead...'

Ali read on but the words left her mind as soon as she'd finished them.