Once the news had spread to all of father's friends and relatives, I felt the misery had been shared out equally and I was not so shocked as I was when we first got the news. We had a small memorial with a few friends and the local priest.We were having breakfast early one morning when George came in.
"There is a Mr Gregory Thatcher for young Arnold at the door, mam"
Gregory was my best friend's guardian and when he is announced that normally means Harry, my best friend, has come round to play.
"Harry I shouted, he has come, please can I get down from the table, please please please."
"Off you go," replied mother.
I got down off my chair and ran out to the front hall and sitting on the sofa was Mr Gregory Thatcher, but no Harry. Where was he, where was my best friend, my only companion, my garden adventurer?
"Take a seat Arnold, there is something I need to tell you." said Gregory.
"What is it? Where is Harry?" I asked
"He isn't here, he's gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
"He had an accident. He's . . . dead."
"What but that's not possible it just . . ."
"I know its a lot to take in, it was a knife, he was preparing some vegetables with me for dinner. The knife slipped and he lost a lot of blood."
I ran upstairs to my room and lay under my covers with my head in the pillow so that it would soak up so much of my tears that the ducks would mistake it for soggy bread. Why did they both have to die? Why s it that I'm left with no one else but Dorothy and Mother? Are the going to die to? I said to myself firmly. This war has to stop!