**Childhood Love**
“Mum, can I wear the blue shirt to nursery tomorrow?”
“The blue one? Whys that?”
“Because Katie Evans said it suits meit matches my eyes!”
“Well, if Katie said so, of course you can wear the blue shirt tomorrow.”
Little Alfie, pleased with himself, ran off to play with his older brother, Tom, who was already in primary school. That evening, Mum told Dad about the blue shirt and how it brought out Alfies eyes. Dad chuckled and ruffled his youngest sons hair.
“So, lad, do you like Katie, then?”
“Yeah. Im gonna marry her.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, youll need to finish school first, get an education, then think about marriage.”
“Blimey, thats ages away…” Alfie frowned.
“Dad, can I marry Katie tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Where will you live, son?”
“Here, of course,” Alfie said, confused.
“Whose house? Hers?”
“No, Dad!” Alfie widened his eyes. “Katie stays at hers, and I stay at ours.”
“Doesnt work like that, son. When you marry, you bring Katie home, live together. Youd have to work while she goes to nursery, then school, then uni.”
“And me?” Alfies voice wobbled.
“Youd have to work, son. Provide for your family.”
“Whats wrong? Why are you crying?” Mum knelt beside Alfie.
“Mum, I wanna marry Katie, but I dont wanna work yet! I wanna go to nursery, then school, and Dad said” His words dissolved into tears.
“No need to cry! Marry her when youre older.”
“But what if someone else takes her by then?”
“Who would?”
“Dunno… maybe Jack or Billy.”
“Well, then shes not worth it if shed just go off with someone else.”
The next morning, Alfie marched up to the girl in the red velvet dress, her long blonde hair tied with a big bow. He took her hand and announced, “Im gonna marry you, Evans!”
Katie stared at him, then turned away. “No!”
Alfie stomped his foot. “I *said* Im marrying you! Just not yet, alright?” He peered into her eyes. “Later, yeah?”
“Why not now?” Katie asked. “Jack and Lizzie got married now.”
“Thats pretend! Oursll be real!”
“Alright,” she agreed, and hand in hand, they ran off to play.
At school, Alfie demanded the teacher seat him next to Katie. She refused, placing Katie with another pupil instead. Alfie stubbornly sat beside her anyway.
“Im marrying Evans when I grow up.”
The class erupted in laughter. “Ooh, lovebirds!”
“Quiet, children!” the teacher scolded. “Alfie, youre too young for such talk. Back to your seat.”
“No! Katie, tell her!”
Katie just smiled.
“Well, Miss Evans? Whats your answer?” the teacher asked.
“Were marrying *properly* when were older,” Katie said. “Not like Jack and Lizzietheirs was just nursery nonsense.”
The teacher sighed. “Fine. Sit together.”
Katie was the queen of his heart. He carried her bag, shielded her from dogs, bullies, even teachers. Once, when she fell and scraped her knee, he hauled her to the nurses office.
Years later, in secondary school, he confessed properly.
And Katie? She just smiled and walked away, chin high.
“I *will* marry you, Evans!” he shouted after her.
Then along came Iana boxer, drove his own car, studied mechanics. Alfie took his bruises but never backed down.
One evening, three lads cornered him.
“Oi, kid,” one sneered. “Come here.”
“You want me, *you* come.”
“Cheeky runt. Listenleave the girl alone. Shes our mates.”
“Tell your *mate* if he doesnt stay away from *my* girl,” Alfie spat, “hell regret it.” He turned his back, walking off, feeling their anger like a storm at his heels.
Another time, they jumped him. Katie came charging with a fence plank, swinging wildly. Tom and his mates soon joined, called by Lizzie, Katies friend.
That night, cleaned up under the street tap, they laughed while Lizzie dabbed iodine on their scrapes.
Later, walking Katie home, she paused. “Did it hurt?”
“Nah.”
She kissed himtheir first. The lads tactfully looked away.
“Sorry, Alf…”
“For what? Youre my hero! Swung that plank like Bruce Lee. Scared of you, Evanshowll I marry you if you fight like that?”
Katie giggled.
Then came the army. No dramatic tearsjust quiet closeness.
“Remember, Ill marry you when Im back, yeah?”
For the first time since nursery, Katie said, “Yeah.” She blushed. “Alfie… do you love me?”
“Course I do, you daft thing. Been planning to marry you my whole life.”
Letters flew back and forth, each whispering *love*. Thensilence.
News reports showed boysno, soldiersbattered but grinning.
“Mum! Thats Alfie!” She clutched her chest.
The screen caught his smile, those dimples.
That night, Tom found the coded word in Alfies letter. Just one word*Chechnya*.
Months later, the news showed a brief clip. Boys turned men, hardened by war.
“Alfie!” Mum gasped.
He turned, smilingalways smiling.
Then, one morning, he was home. Sitting on the bench, listening to birds, breathing peace.
Tom stepped onto the balcony, cigarette in hand.
“Smokings bad for you,” Alfie called up.
“Sos being a smart-arse. Might get punched.”
“Missed you, brother.”
A few hours later, slightly tipsy on joy, Alfie yelled under Katies window:
“Evans! Im here to marry you!”
No one scolded him. The street understood.
“Mum, Dadcan I marry her now?”
“Get dressed, groom. Bride might change her mind.”
“Not a chance. Waited too long for this.”
Years later, Alfies son announced:
“Mum, Im getting married.”
“Oh? When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Really? And whos the lucky girl?”
“Emily Evans. From my class.”
“Does Dad know?”
“Yeah. He said talk to Grandad first. So, tomorrow it is.”
Alfies parents laughed.
“Talked to the lad, Grandad?”
“Aye. History repeats. Another Evans, stealing our boys hearts.”
