A single photo sat on the mantelpiece, the image in black and white and from a time gone by. Two couples, smiles and laughter seemed to fill the picture. It was like I was back there again.
The buzz of laughter, music and chatting filled the village hall. It was April 1944 and today was the annual Easter dance. I had been invited to attend by my friends, Eve and Connie. They were going with their fellas and wanted me to come along with them. I wondered for a while whether or not to go. I didn't want to spoil their fun and I wasn't sure if Albert would want to come anyway. I later asked Albert and with some clever talking, I managed to persuade him to attend.
When the night came, he was genuinely happy to be there. We both looked our best. Albert looked very dapper in his father's old dark grey suit and shiny new shoes, his bronze hair styled into a fashionable quiff and I wore a simple red dress, my hair styled into blonde waves, looking quite stunning, even if I do say so myself. Albert said I looked like one of those Paris models, a compliment I simply smiled and blushed at. We walked, arms linked towards the hall, the music and voices getting louder with each step. We were greeted when we walked in by merry smiles and a few jealous looks.
We headed further into the crowd as we first made our way to the bar to get some drinks. Albert had a whiskey while I tried something adventurous - a Sloe Gin Fizz. When we got our drinks and I took my first sip, I felt like my throat was on fire. Was it meant to be this alcoholic? It tasted too sour for my liking but I didn't say a word to Albert, as he had just paid with what little money he had. He certainly didn't have much money to waste away on cocktails. I took another sip before walking once more, arm linked with Albert as we went in search for my friends. Once we found them, the four of them chatting and laughing with one another in the corner at the back of the hall. I pulled Albert with me, forgetting for one moment that our arms were still linked. They saw us, we all hugged, kissed and shook hands, the men exchanging pleasantries with one another while us girls just talked. Johnny, he was Connie's fella, his slicked back blonde hair styled almost perfectly was chatting effortlessly with Albert while Michael, Eve's fella joined in every so often, his eyes framed with thick dark eye lashes and tall stature intimidating at times but he was a swell guy.
The chatting then turned to dancing. Us girls were swung around the floor. We were having such a great time together. When there seemed to be a dip in the music, Eve decided for us to have a photograph together. I told her that we couldn't all be in the photograph together but I was certainly happy to take a photograph of the four of them. Eve and Connie didn't want that, they wanted everyone in it but eventually I persuaded them. They then tried to get Albert in the photo but he said that he would decline since I wouldn't be in it. I knew otherwise, Albert just didn't like having photographs taken of himself, of which the two of us were very much of like mind. We both sat on nearby seats as the music swelled, Eve, Connie, Johnny and Michael danced together and I took the photograph on Connie's camera. I didn't need to take another as it seemed to look perfect when I took it but I took another one just in case.
The night then continued, we danced, we drank, we laughed, we kissed, everything felt just perfect. We'd all seemed to have forgotten that we were in the middle of a war but we would soon remember once more. Exactly two months later, I was working at the hospital at the time when I got a note from the secretary's office to get there as soon as I could. I had to leave the bedside of an elderly patient to be able to go. I made sure they were in fine hands before going. When I got to the hallway leading to the office, I saw a coated figure first, his hat perched neatly on top of his head, I wondered who he was. As I got closer, my heart started to pound as I thought it was Albert back from the War. I started to run but as I pressed my hand on the glass door, I realised the coated figure wasn't him and instead, now seeing the side of his face realised he was Albert's older brother Thomas.
As soon as he saw me, he walked up to me and started to cry. I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying but I could catch the gist. Albert. What about Albert? Was he okay? Worse and most likely, was he dead? All these thoughts swam in my head and at such a thought, I started crying too. Both of us cried and hugged one another, Thomas squeezing me tightly, his words still sounding intangeable. What was he saying? Then I heard his words. "I'm so sorry. Why did it have to happen to Albert? He didn't do anything wrong. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't even say...dead." Albert. Why?" That was when I started to sob, not 'rivers down my cheeks' sobs, but uncontrolable sea of tears. I felt I would never stop.
The next few weeks felt like a blur. Albert's body was sent here to England, there were funeral arrangements to organise and who to invite. The funeral was everything I wanted for Albert, it was lovely and with everyone being so caring and supportive. I felt I could just about get through the day and the many days ahead without him. I did think I would be mourning forever, but I never knew that I would be completely wrong. There was happiness at the end of the tunnel.