30
RUBY
11th February
‘You’re leaving?’ I stared at Vera, wondering if I’d heard her correctly. ‘But you can’t!’
She bit her lower lip, a line appearing between her eyebrows. ‘Darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure – I knew you’d take it badly – but everything’s been confirmed now. And I would have told you – of course I would – but I promise you, it was an absolute spur-of-the-moment thing. When Stanley told me he was being invalided out of the army and would be sent back to the States next week, getting married was really the only thing we could do. I’ve got to go to some sort of transit camp for a few weeks, and then – if all the correct paperwork comes through and I’ve not got any awful diseases or anything – they’ll stick me on a ship and take me over there too. Oh, Ruby, don’t look so sad – I’ll write to you as often as I can – and I’ll come back and visit—’
I forced myself to smile. ‘I’m happy for you, I really am. It’s just—’ I swallowed, hard. ‘It’ll be awfully lonely here without you.’
‘But you’ve got Alfie.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘And once I’ve gone, Howler will have to promote you – you’ll be a proper reporter, just like you always wanted!’ She put her arms around me. ‘Please don’t let’s fall out over this.’
I hugged her back. ‘Don’t be silly. I could never fall out with you!’
‘We’ll have a party before I leave – a real knees-up. You’ll have to bring Alfie, of course.’
‘Of course.’ I smiled again, brightly.
‘I’m awfully glad things have worked out between you two.’ Vera sat down at her typewriter, briskly rolling a sheet of paper into it. ‘I was so worried about you when we got the news about Sam. I honestly thought you’d never get over it.’
I was glad she wasn’t looking at me; the smile stayed on my face, but I couldn’t stop it from wobbling. ‘Yes, well, life has to keep going, doesn’t it?’ I said lightly.
Later, after work, I walked down to Wreckers Cove. I hadn’t gone back to the lodge since Sam had gone, but I spent a lot of time here. No one else knew, not even Vera or Alfie.
As usual, there was no one else around. A bitter wind was blowing off the sea, churning the waves that pounded the shore into white foam. The horizon and the sky were the same shade of steely grey, making it hard to see where one ended and the other began.
I tucked myself away in the cave where Sam and I used to meet before we started using the lodge, sheltered from the wind, at least, if not the cold, and took the little accounts book out of my coat pocket, and the pencil I kept in there with it. I’d finally started to write again: letter after letter to Sam.
Dear Sam,
I wonder what we’d be doing right at this moment if you were still alive. It’s something I think about a lot, imagining us together – the life we might have had.
I know I should feel guilty for writing to you like this, like I’m being unfair to Alfie, but I know I’ll never see you again, that you only exist inside my head now, and that makes it all right somehow.
I still miss you so much. I wonder if I’ll ever stop missing you. I hope not. The thought I might forget about you one day scares me half to death. I’m already forgetting little details, like what colour your eyes were and how you sounded when you laughed. But I still remember what it felt like when you held me, and your smile. You had the kindest smile I’ve ever seen. I wish I had a photograph of you, or even a drawing. But we never got round to it. We thought we had plenty of time. But we didn’t, did we?
If you’re able to read this somehow, please don’t worry about me. I’m OK. Life is OK. Alfie looks after me and he’s very dependable. We go out two or three times a week to the cinema or to a dance, and Grandmother is happy too because she approves of him so she leaves me alone most of the time now – which is a relief, I can tell you! Father’s buried in his work as usual – the hospital is bursting at the seams at the moment – so I’m not sure what he thinks, but I expect he doesn’t mind. After all, he’s known Alfie for as long as I have.
I think Alfie wants to ask me to marry him. And I think if he does, I’ll say yes. Now, that DOES make me feel guilty, because officially I’m still engaged to you. I hope you won’t mind. But the alternative is spending the rest of my life alone, living with Father (and Grandmother while she’s here), and I don’t think I could bear that. If we buy a house I’m going to plant roses and lilacs in the front garden in memory of you (although I won’t tell Alfie that of course!), but unfortunately a dog is out of the question because of his asthma. Do you remember that dog we were going to have? A greyhound with a black coat and a white chest and paws, and a red collar?
Oh – I almost forgot to tell you. Vera has married Stanley and she’s off to America! It was a surprise – for her too, I think. I’m happy for her, really I am, but there’s part of me that’s sad, too – and, if I’m honest, a little bitter. First, I lost you, and now I’m losing Vera. Even though she’s promised to write and visit I can’t help feeling as if both of my best friends have been taken away from me. And she’s living the life I thought I would have, when you came back from war and I moved to America with you. It all seems terribly unfair somehow.
I wish I could see you one more time, Sam. I wish I’d said goodbye.
And I hope, wherever you are, you know how much I will always love you.
R xxxxx