Something died in us all that day. We had felt it coming. A premonition, dark and immeasurable. We had arrived late at St. Pancreas, which gave me no small degree of gratification. God knows, I had been willing some event to prevent us from reaching our destination. Inspite of this, however, I could feel us being pulled towards our fate. To make up for lost time, Uncle Albert had splashed out on a black cab and now we were careering through the sombre streets of London towards Victoria where William’s onward train and the end of everything awaited us.

“Do they have houses in Africa William or will you have to live in a mud hut?”
“Don’t ask such silly questions Jude”
“They’re made out of cow dung you know. I read all about it. Must be pretty smelly when you’re in bed at night.”
“Shut up Jude. Of course they’ve got houses just like you and me”

I wasn’t so sure and pondered for a while on all the things that William might be leaving behind for good: Aunt Muriel’s apple crumble, the electric lightbulb, me. Being the youngest I was given the privelege of sitting in the rear-facing seat of the cab and found to my horror that the world had turned itself inside out. For the rest of the journey I was forced to see only the places we had come from and what had gone before. It created an ever-increasing sense of unease and dislocation. William on the other hand gazed ahead eager to welcome what lay waiting for him. Confident that it was something better. It was a new beginning. An exciting opportunity.

I think that was the moment when I felt it start to take a hold of me. The shadow of grief. It had the effect of someone throwing a thick blanket over me so that all sensations and sounds became muffled and confused. Later, as we stood there on the platform, William fought hard to hold his monsters at bay. His hand gripped tightly around the handle of the new brown suitcase that Aunt Muriel had picked up at the Co-op. I remember it looked too big against his skinny legs. But there was not much inside. Not much for an explorer setting off to the new world.

A little further down the platform another boy was crying and clinging to an old lady. A smartly dressed woman was talking kindly to them and encouraging the boy to follow her on board the train. But then her eyes settled on William and she approached our small silent band. Easy prey by comparison.

“And now what is your name young man?”

Not much of a man, I thought, however young. Long grey socks pulled high up to bony knees. An oversized blazer and that scruff of hair that never would stick down on top.

“William. William Tanner”
“Oh yes. William. How lovely to meet you. I am Miss Fellowes and I shall be looking after you for the next few weeks until you are safely delivered to the Fairbridge School. Its going to be a long journey so we’ll have lots of time to get to know each other and you can tell me all about yourself. Now say your goodbyes and then presently we must board the train. We don’t want to miss the boat at Dover. We have been worried that you weren’t going to come but there’s a story there I am sure. Now let me see how Jack is getting on we really don’t have time for dilly-dallying.”

William couldn’t have got a word in edgeways even if he had wanted to. But as it was he just stood there staring and even after Miss Fellowes had returned to coax the crying boy away, William kept his back to me. They said he was very brave. But standing there behind him I could see his shoulders were trembling. Aunt Muriel made one last ditch attempt to slick down that hair. Uncle Albert gave William a stiff shake of the hand and made some parting words of wisdom. Man to man. William and I just stared for a moment and then he stepped forward with no coaxing or anything and let that train swallow him whole.

With a long hiss and a heavy slow heave, he was gone.