When Skies Have Fallen

by Debbie McGowan

  Chapter Eight: October, 1944

  “The post’s here!” Jean said, barely hiding her excitement. She raced across the mess hall to Arty, grinning as she passed him ‘her’ letter. With shaking hands, he unfolded it. “Oh, I thought we might dance a little first,” Jean joked. Arty gave her a quick smile and began to read.

  My darling Jean,

  I’m counting the days now. Twelve more until we see each other. That’s a total of fifty-nine days since we said goodbye and not one has gone by without you filling my thoughts. I love you so much.

  I must say, Norfolk here is nothing like Norfolk back home, but I prefer this one. Last week a few of us went to “The Broads” on a fishing trip. The landscape is magnificent, and we found a beautiful secluded lake. I didn’t catch a single fish, mind you, but it didn’t matter. I just imagined you were at my side.

  I’ll be twenty-eight years old when next you see me. Will you still have me when I’m an old man? I’ve been thinking a lot about us finding a place together in the city, getting married, setting up home together with our kids. I’d like to open a workshop, fix up people’s cars and bikes. What do you think? Would you be my business partner?

  How are Socks and Soot getting along? I know you tell me every time, but I miss them almost as much as I miss you, darling, and I’ll never forget the little one we lost. Give the guys a cuddle from their poppy.

  See you at the dance hall.

  All my love,

  Jim

  Arty folded the letter in half and put it inside his shirt, pressing it to his heart. He couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Betty’s told everybody that Jim and I are getting married,” Jean complained.

  Arty laughed. “Oh dear. What did you say?”

  “Nothing at all. What could I say? But I don’t mind one bit, Arty. I promised you I’d do whatever you needed, so let them gossip. Besides…” Jean leaned closer, “a gal could do worse. Jim Johnson is quite a catch.”

  Arty pushed her away, and they both laughed.

  “So we’ll travel down to London on Wednesday morning,” Jean continued. “Jim’s going to meet us at Tottenham Court Road station. Did you hear from Sissy?”

  “Yes,” Arty confirmed. “But she won’t arrive in London until late in the afternoon. She’s very eager to meet you and your fiancé-to-be.”

  “I’m excited to meet her, also.”

  Arty nodded and took a big airy breath, overwhelmed with emotion. In just over a week’s time, he and Jim would be together again, if only for a few short hours, but he was grateful to have as much as that. Without giving it another thought, he embraced Jean and hugged her tightly.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Your happiness is all the thanks I need, Arty.”