Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1st September, 1939. London.

Nail was awoken early one morning by his mother. She muttered on about having to make it to the train station on time, telling him to make haste in the bathroom and get dressed in his neatest clothes.

He sits up and rubs his eyes, his mind foggy. Train station? At this time? Where were they going?

“The evacuation, Nail,” his mother reminded him, tossing a towel onto his bed to prompt him to take a bath.

That’s right, the evacuation. It had begun a year before, small-scale, but now everyone had to go. Nail began seeing posters hung around, encouraging people who couldn’t work in the war to evacuate London. The big bold texts urging mothers to send their children away, telling them the children would be far happier in the country - to what extent could he really be happier there? He didn’t want to leave his city and everything he knew. Where was he even going?

His mind races as he hops into the bathroom, readying himself. As he paces the bathroom while brushing his teeth, he thinks to what kind of people he might stay with. Perhaps a nice elderly who bakes him treats? A little family who treats him as their own? Nail smiles to himself as he imagines being picked by a lovely household who welcomes him and showers him with affection and fun. And since he was going to the country, there’d be fields and fields to run and play in, right? He could climb trees and dig for treasures and maybe there’d be a lake to swim in and he could see all the animals that live there!

Would there be other kids around his age too? Maybe he would be chosen by a family with kids, and he could befriend them! He surely wouldn’t be bored then. What if he and one of his school friends got chosen by the same family? Now that would be the best!

Nail had made a couple friends, most of which had already been evacuated earlier on, but he was never popular. He’d sometimes hear some of his peers comment (not so) discretely to one another that Nail was too weird. And sometimes if they overheard him sharing his interests to his friends, they’d pass by and make a rude comment, belittling him. Other than the occasional tease, Nail quite enjoyed school. He was best at P.E and English - he was naturally flexible and energetic, and coming up with stories was something he loved to do.

The young boy had finished with his bath, rubbing his hair with his towel before wrapping it around himself and emerging from the bathroom. His mother was nowhere to be seen at this moment, so Nail makes his way to his bedroom, leaving footprints on the wooden-floored corridor.

He enters his room and it suddenly hits that this might be his last time doing that for a while. How long was this war going to last? How long does he have to be evacuated for? Everything was uncertain, although he did hear adults around him saying that this war would most likely be over by Christmas. He hoped so. He doesn’t want to spend Christmas away from his mum.

Nail feels his face slightly pale. His mum was staying here during the war, since her company had reformed to manufacture munitions to the military therefore that was her job. Nail imagined her in factory-wear, building powerful bombs to be used by the army. That sounded like a fun job! But that meant she’d be caught in the crossfire of the bombings. People were saying London wouldn’t be safe during the war, and now he was leaving his only family behind.

Nail felt a lump in his throat but squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears back. He can’t cry now, he has to get ready. He shook away any terrible thoughts and instead tried to focus on where he was going. He was going to be travelling there by train, they said. With his friends and schoolmates and teachers and thousands of other children around London. What an adventure that would be! Nail had never been on a train before, but whenever he went to the park he would see the trains chug along the bridges and felt their rumble as he stood underneath them.

As he busied himself with these thoughts, he pulls out a clean white collared shirt, short-sleeved because it was relatively warm today, and shorts that stopped just above his knees. After dressing himself, he pauses. He didn’t pack! He needed to pack his stuff, only now it seemed too late and he didn’t know what he needed to bring!

Nail was beginning to panic when his mum entered his room, hauling a brown suitcase. “I’ve got everything you need here. A few changes of clothing, your toothbrush and toothpaste, you know, that stuff. They gave me a list of what to pack for you.”

Nail immediately relaxes, seeing his mum had taken care of it. “Phew, thanks! I was beginning to worry about that,” he says, grinning gratefully.

“No need to. Have you brushed your hair? Thought not. Hurry here, I’ll comb it nicely for you.” Nail rushes over and hands his mum the comb, as she begins brushing through his damp locks. He stands patiently as she works on it, then snaps open the brown suitcase to put the comb in. “Pass me your towel.” She folds this effortlessly and places it in too, closing the lid down and hauling it up.

“Right, that should be almost everything. Get your coat and put your socks and shoes on, chop chop. We need to leave now.” The boy nods and runs off to fetch his brown coat which he didn’t like much. It felt itchy and irritating on his skin but his mother wouldn’t hear of it. He slips on some white socks and follows her downstairs. As he sat at the bottom of the stairs to put on his brown clodhoppers, which he also hated, his mother bent down to hang some sort of label on his coat. Nail looks down, trying to read what was written - it had his name, address and school on it.

“So the adults and people in the country know who you are,” his mother explains as she slipped on her coat. She hands him a box with a string to sling it over your body. “Don’t forget your gas mask now.”

Nail remembers having to learn how to wear these in school. The gas masks were stuffy and smelt funny and he didn’t like it at all, sometimes telling the teacher he “accidentally” lost it because he didn’t want to actually wear it. Except now the next time he has to wear it, it might not be merely for practice.

He grabs for his handle and tries lifting it up, taking quite some strength from him to accomplish this, and he makes his way out of the front door.

The train station was around a ten-minute walk away from their doorstep, but it felt like an eternity to Nail who had to haul his baggage along. “Come on, you’re slowing us down!” his mother would fuss, until eventually she took the bag in her own hands, lifting it effortlessly. Nail rubbed his palm to alleviate the redness and burning sensation from carrying the bag, and hurried along behind her on his little legs. He could see crowds of children and accompanying adults heading towards the same destination. The children walked in twos or groups, chattering loudly, while the adults yelled commands as they tried to keep them in line.

Nail entered the train station, the large crowds and bright lights and loud chatter almost too overwhelming for him. He takes deep breaths to calm himself, keeping his gaze down as he followed his mum.

“Wait here,” she orders, placing his bag down by a wall. “I’ll get you something to eat on the train, since you didn’t have breakfast.”

Nail stands by the suitcase, watching his mother’s figure disappear amongst the crowds. He seats himself upon the suitcase, fiddling with his fingers as he awaited his mother’s return. He turns to look at all the children with their parents or guardians. Some children were already weeping, some seemed indifferent, some looked eager to board the train which had already arrived now.

There were several women around in uniform, barking instructions and rounding children up. Everything seemed to be happening so fast - life was changing in this very moment. Nail was going to say goodbye to London, to his home, to his mum, travel to some unknown place to live with people he didn’t know, for who knows how long.

Staring off into space, deep in thought, he didn’t notice one of the uniformed women approaching him. “Hello, young man. Is everything alright?”

Nail snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at the woman. She wore a necklace with colourful beads and had light-coloured hair in a braid, a hat on top. She smiles down at Nail reassuringly.

“Uh, yeah! My mum’s gone to get some food for me,” he replies, smiling back. He looks down at her uniform - a deep green blazer with a deep green skirt that reached her knees. She wore an arm band that read ‘WVS Civil Defence’, and had a stitching of a crown atop. She had a pinned badge on her blazer with her name on - ‘Gumball Machine’, it read.

Gumball Machine smiled. “Okay, nothing to worry about! The train only just arrived so you have time to board. What’s your name?” She had crouched down to Nail’s level to converse with him.

“I’m Nail,” he answers, growing slightly more comfortable amidst the chaos of the train station. “And I saw your badge, your name is Gumball Machine right?” he points to the badge on GM’s blazer. She laughs.

“Yeah, that’s right! How old are you Nail?”

Nail looks down. He was eleven now, right? He’s never had birthday celebrations, but he knows the date he was born and just sort of counts from there. He rechecks on his fingers.

“I’m eleven now!” he answers, holding up his two index fingers together to look like the number eleven.

GM grins. “Wow, you’re almost all grown up!” she says, pretending to look shocked. “That means you’re in your final year of primary school, right?” Nail nods, grinning.

“I might like to go to secondary school! I hear they learn to play instruments. I wanna learn to play the drums!” He mimes playing the drums, holding imaginary drumsticks, making the sounds with his mouth. GM laughs seeing his play-pretend performance.

“Drums? That seems fitting for you!” she compliments. Nail points to her arm band. “What does WVS stand for?” he asks, tilting his head curiously.

GM turns her body to display the arm band, pointing to it. “WVS - Women’s Voluntary Services. Becasue of the war, they opened up many new jobs for women to do since all the men have gone to fight in the army,” she explains to him patiently. “We can work as firefighters, here in the train station, in munition factories—”

“Oh! My mum’s working in one of those!” Nail pipes up, swinging his legs as sits more comfortably on the suitcase. “I think—”

“Gumball, what are you doing?” There was another WVS worker in the same uniform, standing behind GM. She flips around, standing up.

This WVS worker looked a little less friendly, with darker, short hair. Nail squinted, and saw her pin badge read ‘Poison’. “We need all the help we can get with boarding the children, there’s no time to be doing.. whatever you’re doing.” She looks beyond GM and spots Nail, still sitting on his suitcase. “Where’s his parent or guardian?” she asks.

GM looks from Nail and back to Poison, a sheepish expression on her face. The pair talk a little more, and Nail’s attention flickers from the two women to another figure who approached him. His mum was back! She held a paper bag in her hand and a water bottle in the other. He points and says out loud, “my mum’s back!”

He stands up to run to her, but she simply hands him his late breakfast and walks past him to the suitcase. “No time, you have to board the train now!” she says sternly, picking up Nail’s case.

Poison walks up to her, not looking happy. She went on about how the train was close to setting off and it was irresponsible of the mother to run off wherever. The pair bickered about it as they walked to the train, while GM turned her attention back to Nail. He looks up at her. “Where will we be going, Miss Gumball Machine?”

She simply shrugs. “I don’t know exactly where, but you’re going to the countryside. Have you ever been to the countryside?” Nail shakes his head. “Well, it’s quite different to the city… there’s more grass and trees than buildings. You’ll see some animals too!”

The steam train puffed out another cloud of smoke, letting out a loud whistle as they approached it. Children were lined up in their schools, some teachers accompanying them. The kids were loud, non-stop talking about where they might be staying. “Find the boy’s school and take him to the correct line,” Poison instructs GM. Nail thought she was quite strict and scary compared to Gumball Machine, but right before Poison left she gave GM a quick smile and walked off quickly. That was odd.

GM bends down and picks up Nail’s label, reading what school he was in. “Ah, you’ll be in carriage three, if I’m not mistaken..” she walks ahead, but slow enough for Nail and his mother to not lose her. Approaching carriage three, Nail spots the familiar faces of his classmates and teacher. He saw one of his friends standing in the line, by himself. He dashes to meet with him and the pair excitedly talk about this new ‘adventure’.

Their line begins moving as a WVS officer begins loading them into the carriage. Nail’s mother hands Nail his baggage as soon as he was about to step into the train, and he looks up at her, the panic suddenly setting in. “Mum… I’ll miss you so much.” He throws his arms around her to hug her, burying his face into her. She hugs back, not as tightly as Nail though. “Behave yourself, okay? Make sure you’re polite to your host family,” she says, pulling away from the hug and patting his hair down. She kisses his forehead and stands up, prompting him to board the train. The young boy picks up his bag with a grunt and steps onto the train, and as the last few children boarded, the WVS officer snaps the door shut.

Nail continues looking out the door’s open window at his mother as she stood back with the other parents, waving their children off. He waves, wanting to shout his goodbyes like the other children but as he opened his mouth, no voice came out. He felt the lump in his throat returning and thought it better to just remain silent. The train jolted forward, and slowly began chugging away. Nail leaned over as the train took him further away, trying to see as much of his mum as possible. She shrank and shrank in the distance before the train takes a turn and he could no longer see her. He turns back to the inside of the train, not noticing the tears that had travelled down his cheeks.

The officer takes his baggage off him to put in the racks above them, mumbling that he needs to go take his seat now. Nail sees through the blurriness in his eyes that his friend had sat down a little down the aisle, and saved him a seat. He walks over, hearing some of the other kids call him a ‘cry baby’, and sits down next to his friend.

“Are you okay, Nail?” the friend asks, looking genuinely worried.

Nail keeps his gaze down at his legs, picking at the scabs on his knees. His voice still hasn’t returned, so he simply shakes his head.

His friend (we’ll just call M for this story) reaches into his pocket and pulls out a seemingly unused tissue, only slightly crumpled, handing it to Nail. “Here you go,” he says. Nail takes the tissue with an appreciative nod and wipes his tears. M sits in silence a little more, unsure of what else to say. He spots the paper bag that Nail was clutching with his other hand. “Hey, what’s this? You got food? Lucky..” he smiles, trying to lighten the mood.

Nail turns to the paper bag, having forgotten all about it. He felt his stomach rumble from his missed breakfast and felt a little better that he had food to eat now. He opens the bag and peaks inside: a wrapped cheese and ham sandwich, some fruits in a plastic box and a bar of chocolate. M peeks into the bag too.

“Woah, lucky! You got a Mars bar!” Nail reaches for the Mars bar and tries handing it to M. “What? No, I can’t take your treat! It’s for you!”

Nail shakes his head with a small smile, finding his voice again. “No, it’s okay! You don’t have any food and I wanna share!”

“But—” Nail cuts M off as he takes his friend’s hand and puts the chocolate bar in it.

“You’re my bestest friend and I want to share with you because friends share with each other, right?” he declares. “So there, you get the chocolate because I say so!”

M looks at Nail with genuine happiness in his eyes. “Nail.. thank you so much! You’re too nice to me!”

His sadness alleviated, Nail tucks into his late breakfast as the pair play a game of Would You Rather, ending with them both in hysterics of laughter from the hilarious questions they’d end up asking.

The train chugged on, the scenery changing from buildings to greenery as they were taken further and further into their new lives.

Chapter Text

The train jolts forward and begins slowing down, pulling up to a small train platform. Nail was barely drifting in and out of sleep, but the sudden halt startled him fully awake. He turned to the window and found the train had slowed down. Around them was fields and hills and a few cows and sheep scattered around, fences separating the people from the animals. As the train fully stopped, all the kids around him immediately jump out of their seats and the teachers stand up to try and shush the kids and seat them down again.

“Sit down! You’ll disembark one at a time in an orderly fashion!”

Nail immediately turns to M, who was still fully knocked out, leaning against the train window despite its rough bumpiness. He taps his arm to wake him up; “Wake up, we’ve arrived!” he’d hiss. M begins stirring, sitting up slowly and rubbing his heavy eyes.

The WVS officer takes charge in getting each row of children off the train, one at a time, helping them pull their suitcases down from the racks and out the train door.

Stepping out of the train, the atmosphere was already drastically different. The sky was a very vibrant blue, unlike back home where most days it was a dull grey or white from the clouds. The air was fresher, clear of pollution, but the smell of the nearby animals made some children squeal and hold their noses.

In a huge line, the children began a trek down a path, giving them a chance to see some animals up close beyond the fences that surrounded them. Some children were very fascinated, but some cowered away in fear, having never seen a farm animal up close before.

Nail and his friend walked slightly further away from the others, chattering among themselves about their new surroundings - their new temporary home. Nail imagined being able to pet the animals and feed them - maybe his new home would have a farm of its own, and he could help around. Even better if he and his friend could end up in the same home!

Nail trudged along, occasionally putting his suitcase down to take a quick breather, rub his sore palm, and with a grunt, carry it again. His friend notices this. “Do you need help? Here, let me help carry it.”

M wasn’t much bigger than Nail, but their combined strengths got them to at least catch up with their class and not lag behind. After about fifteen minutes of strolling through on this path, they finally reached some village hall. The interior was large but empty, save for some long benches and chairs to one side of the hall. The children were ordered to sit down on these benches and chairs as the village people would be arriving soon to choose evacuees to home. Large groups of children, clad in uniforms, didn’t join the others in the village hall; they were boarding school students and therefore already had institutions ready for them to stay in.

Nail couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous of these boarding schoolers; at least they would be guaranteed staying with their friends and, even if they didn’t like some of their peers, that sense of familiarity would be nice.

While his friend rambled on, Nail sat on the bench with his suitcase poking out from underneath, and his mind races with anticipation about the type of person who might choose him. He begins spacing out, the echoing chatter of the other students blurring into the background as he thinks.

Some time passes and a few more officers, whom Nail hasn’t seen before, walk in. Their uniform slightly differs, and he judges they may be from this village.

One larger lady stands in front of everyone and her voice booms through the hall: “Alright everyone, quiet down!” Nail immediately notices a change in the accent - where he lived, everyone had some form of a Cockney accent; the ‘t’s were dropped and ‘th’ was pronounced as ‘f’ or ‘v’ and overall, what you’d expect when thinking of the working class lot in the earlier days.

This was the complete opposite. They sounded like the people Nail would hear when his mum had the wireless on, those news reporters and important government people like their prime minister Neville Chamberlain. Posher, he supposed. This made him wonder where, geographically, they are now.

The chatter died down almost immediately when the lady shouted for everyone’s attention. She stood, tall and intimidating, and looked like she meant business. “Right,” she begins in a slightly quieter, but still authoritative tone, “I want to thank all our lovely officers and wardens from London for doing a wonderful job transporting our evacuees all the way here,” she smiles and nods at the officers who stood by a wall, “and to all of you, our evacuees, for making the long journey. I expect it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before.”

All the kids continued staring on at this figure with big eyes and slightly open mouths.

The shouting woman scans the evacuees for a couple seconds, before turning to a meeker officer stood by the door. The other officer nods and opens the door, letting in a crowd of villagers. Since it was early afternoon, there weren’t too many people - mostly older people. Nail immediately begins studying each individual that enters, trying to deduce what they might be like from the way they looked and spoke. The shouty officer began barking instructions again, but Nail wasn’t listening anymore.

He didn’t much like the look of most of them - they seemed rather strict. They dressed dull and wore frowns and walked around with their arms behind their back, judging each evacuee as they walked between the rows of children. Some already pounced on choosing their preferred kids, which some didn’t seem too happy with who they were chosen by. There were occasional protests as friends got separated and not even five minutes in, there were tears.

Every time someone who looked too scary for Nail walked across his row, he hung his head as low as possible and shrank down, trying to appear almost invisible. Which wasn’t too difficult. He was quite small for his age, both height and weight wise. This was what he was most teased about.

His efforts paid off, and as the hour passed, a fresh new batch of people began walking in - younger this time, some with children of their own. Nail felt more hopeful now - they seemed much nicer. He sits up, some of the villagers having caught his eye. He tried to look as eager and polite as he can, smiling at the ones he liked the most. However, they passed right by him without giving a second glance. Still, he didn’t lose hope.

He and M decided to play a little game of Guess Who with the village people to keep themselves entertained as another hour passes and still, neither of them have been chosen. There was a new group of people circulating the hall. The shouty warden speaks up again, her voice startling Nail: “Dear villagers, please choose any child quickly, I’m sure they’re all wonderful! We need to keep this going! Even better if you choose two children, since there are likely more of them than you and we need to house them all!”

The ‘two children’ part catches Nail’s attention. He relays this in his head - he had a chance to be chosen with his friend! He scooches closer to M on the bench and talks even more with him, to make it clear to the village people that they ought to choose them together.

Some more time passes and Nail had fully preoccupied himself, albeit unintentionally, with talking to his friend. So much so that they didn’t notice a woman stand in front of them both. M notices first, trailing his sentence off as he looks up at this woman. She looked down specifically at M, seeming interested in picking him. “Hello, there!” she says, plastering on a grin. M looks up with big eyes and musters a small, meek “hello” back.

The woman asks him more questions, and Nail simply sits patiently for her to turn her attention to him as well. But this never happened.

Eventually, she held out her hand and gestured for M to come with her, securing him as her choice. Nail begins panicking, involuntarily reaching to hold M’s other arm. “Please, miss, we’re best friends - can’t you choose us together?” he asks in a slightly shaky voice.

The woman looks down at Nail with pity. “Oh, I’m so sorry young lad - I’m afraid I can only choose one child. I already have my hands full at home with my two young girls.” Nail didn’t see any children with her, she must’ve left them at home to be babysat by someone else. Well, if that was so, why couldn’t she choose him too? After all, she seemed to be already receiving help taking care of her children!

Nail tightened his grip on his friend. “But please, I can’t go without him, please!” he protests, panicked now. Tears threatened to spill but he gulped and squeezed his eyes shut to keep them at bay. The woman’s features change to mildly annoyed now. “Listen, I really can’t. So let go of your friend and say your goodbyes like good boys.”

Much to his dismay, Nail watches his friend disappear, being pulled along by the woman. He sits, completely defeated. He didn’t care if he cried in front of the whole village, he didn’t care if he appeared a right mess right now, he didn’t care if the village people whispered among themselves while looking at his crying face. He not only lost his only family, but now his only friend too. His heart felt heavy and he just kept on silently crying, the hall and the crowds and the noise around him fading away. He felt his tears fall upon his hands, his nose running, and despite how irritating it felt, he just let it. He didn’t have any tissues anyway. Besides… the one M gave him on the train.

He reaches into his pocket, sniffing to try and get rid of the snot but to no avail, and pulls out the tissue. The only thing he had from M to remember him by. He didn’t even want to use it now, because it meant he’d have to throw it away. He pockets it again, coughing as he continued sobbing. He hangs his head low, more tears dripping off his cheeks. He didn’t bother to look at any village people that walked down his row. And he certainly didn’t notice the young woman who stopped to look at him.

“Aw, are you okay there?” she says in a sweet and quiet voice, bending down to look at Nail’s face. Nail doesn’t even bother looking at her, his vision blurring as fresh tears formed in his eyes. The woman continues looking at him, with patience. “Do you miss home? I know it must be so hard for you.. you seem so young,” she continues. She sounded so sweet and patient, Nail felt guilty for ignoring her like this, but he still chooses not to respond. Yet she presses on.

“Here, your nose desperately needs blowing, I think,” she says in a quieter tone, reaching into her handbag for a fresh tissue and hands it to Nail. He hesitatingly accepts it, relieved to finally be able to wipe his nose. He still hangs his head low, but he peeks up a little to take a look at the adult. She had big, blue eyes and pink lipstick on, her wavy hair flowing freely down her back and adorned with an azure blue bow headband. “My name is Snow Cone, what’s yours?” she asks, smiling.

Nail sniffs. “I’m Nail,” he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, wobbly from all the crying.

“Lovely to meet you, Nail,” she continues. “How old might you be?”

“I’m.. eleven,” he says, again holding up his two index fingers to make the number.

Snow Cone’s eyes widen. “Wow, really? You look so small for eleven,” she says, but not in a mocking way which Nail was used to - she seemed more genuine, simply stating this fact with no hidden malice in her tone. “Well, Nail, how might you like to come live with me?” Snow Cone asks. “I promise you, I’m going to make you feel as much at home as possible. I have quite a cozy cottage, and I have pet rabbits too.”

Nail perks up at the mention of rabbits. “Really?” he says, his tears finally drying on his face.

Snow Cone smiles brighter. “That’s right! Three lovely rabbits. There’s Poppy and Rosie and Pearl. They live outside in our backyard, in their little rabbit cage, but I like to let them roam around and play sometimes.”

Snow Cone kept conversing with Nail, her tone quiet and understanding and kind. She kept telling him all about her home and all the things they could do, Nail slowly opening up more despite his initial reservations. He wished they could have met under better circumstances, but he was glad she stayed to talk - he was growing to like Snow Cone more and more.

A warden lady notices Snow Cone spending a considerable amount of time with Nail like this, and walks over. “Sorry miss, but can you quickly choose the child you want? We need to hurry this process along as we are expecting another batch of Londoners soon,” she consulted her watch as she says this.

“Right, my apologies,” Snow Cone says as she stands up, patting down her dress. She was wearing a white summer bodice dress that hung below her knees, patterned with little printed flowers. She stretched a hand out to Nail, this gesture officially securing the boy’s future temporary home - for how long, he was unsure, but this uncertainty didn’t seem so bad now.

He takes her hand with a smile and they walk hand in hand out of the stuffy village hall. Nail appreciatively takes a deep breath of the fresh air, and squinted as he took in all the bright colours surrounding his current environment.

He looks up at the woman he walked with. “Do you live very far from here?” he asks, hoping for a short journey as the pain returns to his palm carrying the bag.

“Don’t worry, it’s a short walk up that hill,” Snow Cone gestures to an upcoming walk uphill. She looks down as Nail begins slowing down. “That looks heavy for you, let me carry it!”

He stops and gratefully watches as Snow Cone heaves the suitcase along with her free hand. He observes her features, noticing her go a little pink with the effort, her forehead slightly creasing. She seemed to be having trouble too, so he lets go of her hand.

“Here, we can both carry it!” he offers, gripping onto the handle.

The pair make their journey with ease, the path beneath them eventually disappearing as they trudged along the short grass. They halt in front of a small cottage as Snow Cone reaches into her dress pocket for the keys.

The interior was really pleasant - picture frames hung up along the walls, house plants and vases decorating tables and window sills, a book shelf almost twice Nail’s height leaned against a wall in the living room, ivory sofas with hand-made embroidered pillows.

The walls were painted cream and the floor was wooden, a few rugs here and there. There sat a wireless on a small round table next to the sofas. Here, the lavatory wasn’t in the house as Nail was used to - it was outside!

Speaking of outside - the backyard was huge. At least to Nail, who’s never had a backyard. There was a shed and rose bushes around the perimetre and, indeed, a rabbit’s cage!

He made a dash towards it, barely able to contain his excitement. He bends down and indeed, there was a white rabbit, a brown rabbit and a grey one, nestling oh so sweetly in their little house, nibbling on some lettuce. It was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

The young boy was bouncing up and down, a wide grin on his face. “Rabbits! Real live rabbits! I ain’t seen rabbits up close before, only in comics, but those ones are big and tall but these are so small!” he rambles, as Snow Cone crouches next to him. She points to the white one.

“That one’s Pearl, see?” she says, Nail’s gaze following.

“Oh! Pearl! Because she looks like a pearl! My mum’s got them pearl necklaces,” he says. He points at the grey one. “Who’s that one?”

“That one’s Rosie! See her rosey pink nose?” Snow Cone says, poking her fingers through the cage to try and prompt the rabbits closer.

Nail tries to peek through and does spot a delightful bright pink resting on Rosie’s face. “Aww! That’s so cute!” he sticks his finger to the brown one. “Which means that one’s…” he pauses to try and recall its name.

“Poppy!” Snow Cone finishes. “She’s the youngest one. Look how little she is!”

As if Poppy understood, she hops over on tiny legs towards Nail and Snow Cone, her little nose twitching. Nail copies the nose twitching as he bends lower to meet her eyes. She had big, shiny dark eyes, meeting Nail’s equally dark eyes. And she was indeed the littlest of the rabbit family. She was Nail’s favourite.

Snow Cone smiles as Nail and Poppy seemed to be getting along already. “Would you like to hold them?” she asks.

Nail looks up, his eyes wide. “Oh, yes yes yes please!”

He sits up on his knees, not even caring if the concrete scratched his bare legs. He watched Snow Cone unlock the cage and the rabbits immediately hopping to their freedom. She picks up Poppy carefully, greeting her in a little baby-like voice, then sits down next to Nail and carefully hands him the rabbit.

He very carefully holds Poppy, feeling her fluff and warmth against his arms. Poppy immediately relaxes into his touch, appreciative of his gentle hold. Once more comfortable, Nail takes one hand and begins stroking her fur back, his eyes sparkling. He could feel her rapid little heartbeat against his other hand. He was careful not to say anything to startle the tiny animal, instead handling her and petting her with joy.

They stayed like that, in comfortable silence, as Snow Cone played with the other rabbits and Nail befriended Poppy. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

Chapter Text

Nail sat back on the sofa, almost sinking into it.

He could hear Snow Cone working in the kitchen nearby, putting plates and cutlery down. Nail decided to take in the environment around him properly. White curtains matching the sofa, wooden floor with a fluffy beige rug in the middle, a coffee table next to the sofa he sat on with a framed picture. He adjusted his sitting position to look at the picture properly, not wanting to touch it out of fear of accidentally knocking it over.

In this little black and white photo, he could recognise Snow Cone and… someone else. A man, only slightly taller. They held each other close, fond smiles on their faces. Snow Cone was wearing an exceptionally pretty dress in this one, having done her hair nicely, and the man was in uniform. An army uniform.

They were in the backyard, it seemed, sitting upon a table. Summer was rampant, Nail could almost see how hot the sun would’ve been. They seemed to be enjoying some tea, a tray with China cups and a teapot and little plates with pastries. As he squints, he could spot a possible hint of sadness in their eyes. They were smiling, but… it was as if they were both aware of something. Less smile-worthy.

Snow Cone enters the living room with a mug and a plate. She sets them down on a table in front of the sofa and noticed Nail still gazing at the picture.

Sensing her presence, he speaks without turning away. “Say, who’s the other guy in this picture with you?” he asks, pointing.

Snow Cone sits down beside him, smiling. “That’s my husband, Chocolate Bar,” she answers, her voice low and soft as she seems to be transported back to the day this picture was taken. Nail turns to look at her.

“It was the beginning of summer when military training became compulsory. Chocolate Bar was of age, so… he’s gone to make us proud.” Nail noticed her eyes become a little glassy, but she quickly turns away.

His voice was small now. “Is he.. fighting right now?”

Snow Cone shakes her head. “No, no, it’s still the training period. Nobody knows when exactly the… fighting will start.” Her voice wobbled a little. She took the framed picture, holding it ever so gently like it was gold. “This was our last day together. I made sure it was our best.”

A solemn silence fell between them, Nail biting the inside of his cheek as he looked down in thought. While he knew where his mum would be, some people like Snow Cone would have no idea where their loved ones were, how they were doing. It must be so scary.

He looks back up, his voice reduced to a whisper. “Do you write him letters?”

“I write to him as often as I can. I’ve received some letters back but, not as much… I presume it’s because of war restrictions, or maybe he’s really busy. But it’s the best when I hear back from him,” she says. She stares at the picture a little longer before placing it down on the coffee table again.

“I made you a little treat, I bet the journey here and the strangeness of living in someone else’s home must have made you peckish!” her voice is chirpy again as she gestures to the plate and mug. “Here’s some toast with butter on and some sugar, very delicious!” Nail looks at the plate with promise, leaning over to pick up the toast and taking a generous bite.

“Mmm!” he chews appreciatively. It tasted a little like cake!

“And here’s some lovely tea as well,” she picks up the mug carefully to hand it to Nail. He stares down at the light brown liquid, feeling its heat on his face. He tries to hold the mug but it was still boiling. “Oh, sorry! Is it still too hot for you? Don’t worry, you can wait ‘til it’s cooled down.” She sets the cup down.

“Thank you Missus,” he says as he takes another bite and smiles.

“You can just call me Snow Cone,” she laughs softly.

“Thank you Missus Snow Cone.”

After his tea time, Snow Cone took Nail up the narrow, wooden staircase of her bungalow-cottage, carrying his suitcase with them.

She opens a door at the top of the stairs and reveals a spacious attic. It was a little empty save for a mattress with two pillows and a blanket, drawers with an alarm clock on top and a rug, but Snow Cone promised he could decorate it as nice as he wants later. “I’ve already placed an order for a proper bed, so you won’t have to be stuck on the floor too long!”

Nail steps into the room, a little cautious of all the creaks in the floor boards. “Don’t worry, it’s just that nobody really comes up here much. But I’ve cleaned it up and furbished it lovely for you best as I can.”

She places his suitcase down by his mattress, huffing out from the increased effort.

“Thanks so much Missus Snow Cone!” Nail says as he bounces onto his mattress, immediately halting when the floor creakes excessively.

“You’re very welcome, Nail!” she says, before stepping out of the room. The ceiling hung low and Snow Cone was rather tall, so she had to bend her head. “I’ll give you some privacy now, alright?” She shuts the door, leaving Nail alone in the attic - his new bedroom. Temporary bedroom.

He lays on his back staring up at the blank ceiling, wondering at what point these strange, new surroundings would become familiar to him. Wondering how long it would take for him to call this his home. He sits up as he looks to his right, to the drawers beside his floor bed. He knew it would contain nothing inside, but he still opened every drawer and peeked inside. Quite spacious, it would be enough for his belongings. Even if not, Snow Cone promised he can buy whatever he likes to add to his room.

His thoughts drifted to his new host. Snow Cone was the nicest he could hope for. He had seen those mean-looking lot judgingly looking at each and every child, their unfortunate picks looking unhappy as they trudged behind their new hosts. He didn’t even much like the woman who took his friend away from him. She seemed nice at first but acted all snobby near the end.

Nail frowned slightly at the thought of his friend - where was he now? Was he enjoying his own home? How far away did he live? Oh, how he wished he could answer just one of those questions! It’s only been an hour or so but he misses his friend terribly. How on earth would he see him again?

Nail stands up and walks over to a window in the ceiling, low enough for him to open. The window swung upwards and Nail could just barely poke his head out, looking at the sky and the rooftops of other houses. He breathed in the fresh breeze, wishing he could stick his head out even more. He made a mental note to ask for a chair for his room later.

He stops tip-toeing as he shuts the window, turning his attention to his suitcase. Perhaps it was about time to unpack. He carefully lays it down and snaps the buckles open, lifting the lid. His clothes have gotten a little crumpled and his other belongings jumbled up, but at least nothing was damaged.

He takes out his spare changes of clothing and pyjamas and undergarments and tries to fit them all neatly into the first drawer best as he could.

He had his little bag of toiletries and comb in the second drawer, and decided to just dump his gas mask in the last drawer. When he opened his gas mask box, however, underneath it he found an envelope.

Curious, he fishes it out and it felt slightly heavy. Inside was a folded piece of empty paper, a small pencil and some money - about three shillings. More money than Nail ever had!

The envelope had Nail’s address written on it - his mum must have gotten it ready for him to write his first letter home. Handy, since Nail forgets his address. There was no stamp though, so he would need to buy one first before sending it off.

He puts the money along with his gas mask into the final drawer, and carries the envelope, paper and pencil with him as he made his way downstairs carefully.

Snow Cone was sat in the kitchen, on a dining table. She seemed focused on something, hunched slightly over. Nail made his way over, his cotton socks barely making a sound on the floor, and stands near her.

She didn’t seem to notice him at first, still busily working on something. “Missus Snow Cone?”

The woman slightly startles as she turns round. “Oh, Nail! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come!” she places down a pencil and Nail could see on the table was two sheets of paper, one of them completely filled with cursive writing.

Snow Cone gestures for him to sit on a chair and he happily hops over. He swings his legs and places his envelope and paper and pencil on the table.

“Missus Snow Cone, are you writing a letter also?” he asks, peering over at the writing. He was a little slow when it came to reading, and his spelling lacked a little, which seems ironic for someone who loves writing so much, but this cursive handwriting was almost impossible. He’s only ever learnt to read fine print, but he was quite intrigued by how Snow Cone wrote.

“I am,” she answers, smiling. She notices what Nail brought with him. “Will you be writing a letter to your family?”

“Yep!” he answers, smoothening out the folded, blank paper and picking up his pencil.

“Who’s in your family?” she asks, putting her pencil down to talk to Nail.

“Just me and my mum,” he answers, tapping his chin with the pencil as he thinks about what to put in his letter. He wanted to make sure his letter truly expresses how much he loves his mum and how much he misses her already and how he cannot bear being so far from her. But when he hovered his pencil lead over the top of the page, the words just… didn’t seem to come to his head.

He seldom ever wrote letters like those, he was only used to scribbling down short stories, about time-travel and aliens and submarine adventures. But letters seemed so much more… serious-like. He looked over at Snow Cone’s fancy lettering, seeing her continue writing away with no pauses.

“Can… can you read me your letter?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t too personal of a question.

Snow Cone looks up at him with a questioning look in her eye.

“I just… need an idea of what to put in my own letter. I ain’t write letters often at all,” he hastily explains.

Snow Cone puts down her pencil and looks at her already very long letter. She presses her lips together then eventually nods. “Alright, I’ll read you what I’ve written so far.”

She picks up her papers and clears her throat, beginning from the top. Nail rests his head on his hands as he listens to the letter, filled to the brim with genuine love and care, jokes and stories; Snow Cone’s eyes slightly fill with tears as she continues reading, detailing her favourite memories with Chocolate Bar and how she so wishes to hold him close once again.

Once she finishes, she clears her throat and puts her letter down, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin she pulled from her pocket. “Sorry… it’s silly of me to be crying in front of you,” she laughs sadly, her voice cracking. But Nail thought it not silly in the slightest. He stands up and gives Snow Cone a hug, near tears himself.

He didn’t dare say anything, out of fear of crying himself. He just hoped this gesture was enough.

It did catch Snow Cone by surprise but she soon wrapped her arms around him too, smiling. “Thank you,” she whispers, wiping away the tears that fell down her cheek. “Did that help you with your own letter?”

Nail nods. “It did.”

Friday 1st September 1939

Dear mum,

I got to my new temporery home, and I like it here alot!

The persun who chose me is very kind. Her house is very pritty and I love my new room!

And can you beleeve… she also has rabbits! Three reelly cute pet rabbits, one calld Pearl and one calld Rosie and the smallest one is calld Poppy and she is my favurite!

My host persun said I can decorat my room how ever I like it, and I am so exsited! I want to decorat it with a book shelf with all my favurite books and I also want posters and comics and a lamp and a rug and a desk and a chair for me to rite my storys! But I mite have to ask my host persun to help me with the spelling.

The place that I am at is nice, I seen them sheeps and cows up close! But they smell funny. And I am sad that me and my friend aint together no more. I hope we can see eech other again. And I hope I can see you again.

How is your new job? I herd you will be making them wepons. Plees tell me what kind of wepons you are making. And is evry one on your job nice too? I hope you also made som frends! I dont want you to be lonly.

Its not even been a day yet, but I miss you so so so much, mum. I will be thinking of you evry day. I hope you think of me too. Evry ones saying the war will be over by Chrismus, wich I reelly reelly hope is true. I dont want to spend Chrismus with out you.

When you get this letter, plees rite back to me quikly. I will make shor to rite to you all the time, even evry day. I will also send you presents with the monee you gave me. I love you so so much mum and I hope this letter will reech you quik.

Til we meet again!

Lots of love from Nail