James

Books.

What’s new?

She’s consistent…

‘Principles of Geology’ by Charles Lyell - well-thumbed, ‘The Merchant of Venice’, ‘Marvels of Pond Life’ by Henry Slack - very dog-eared… The list goes on and the only thing any of the texts have in common is that they all look well-used. A second-hand bookstore would describe them as slightly foxed, but it looks as though the bears, the boars and the badgers have been at them too.

She stacks them in a neat pile, then rummages…

Some odds and ends of jewellery; cheap stuff, yellowed with age but seeming little-handled…

A rock. “Oh!” She smiles as it weighs in her hands.

Michael gives me a ‘wtf?’ look and I shrug.

Chad sees our expressions and smiles, then moves to stand close by Michael. He murmurs, “You’d better be ready. She’ll probably get pretty emotional soon.”

Michael shoots him a glance, then nods.

The rock seems to be just that; a rock, prettily striped in green and red, polished to a smooth round..

Curiosity gets the better of me. “Charlotte?”

She almost caresses the pebble and when she looks up, her eyes are full…

“Tell me later,” I say.

She separates out a book, a heavy volume, leather-bound, old looking. Her eyes lift to Michael, then me, and she chews at her lips. Sliding a finger to the pages, she lifts, and the book falls open on…

Flowers?

Yes, pressed flowers; dainty, delicate their colours faded, but recognisable as violets.

“Are those what I think

they’re the ones you gave me, that first day.” She lifts them free from the page, sliding a fingernail under to ease them from the paper. “Chad and I were still at school. He picked them for me, from the hedgerow. Mrs Collier showed me how to keep

Michael shifts by me…

Trouble brewing?

around

given them to

and sits

Thank you, Chad, so much, for bringing these. For keeping them so long.” She’s smiling, radiating almost, as she combs through

chin to Michael, then to me, eye-pointing chairs close by. Something in his tone penetrates. Her smile fades.

What’s coming…?

voice is gentle. “These aren’t the only things of yours I have.” He reaches for an inside pocket, plucking out an envelope, offering it to her.

at the letter,

going to

drops into

it but it never reached you. I was trying to find you. I picked it up from

“Jenny, I was with him at the end, in the hospital. Almost his last words were for me to give you his love when I found you again. I didn't tell him you'd not received his letter, but I

to take

turning her back to all of

with Michael, then

sob. Then

forward, then Chad, flushing, backs away again, gesturing Michael to her. He tries to take her in

the farm once, that first Christmas. But no one would talk to me. They just said

he came looking for you. He told

did

palms. “I believe you. But my mother believed him, or wanted to. And she poisoned everyone against you. Except for Mrs Collier. And Mr Kalkowski of course.” He smiles, places his hand over hers. “He was so proud

“I did, yes.”

“Geology? Astronomy?”

I

brought that

interrupt. “Charlotte… Is the letter… From your old friend… Does it say the things you would have hoped it would

nods and offers it to me. I read it

My Dearest Jenny,

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