Between Friends
Page 19
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: aggieb@yahoo.com
Subject: Shit Day
Date: 7 June
Hi, Aggie
Today is not a good day. No news from Josh and to top it all, Gethyn has gone to work at Basra Palace for his last two weeks. It’s like I’ve lost a part of my soul. Yes, please, can I come to your café? Will you feed me cake till I pop?
Also, don’t be angry, but I thought of something regarding your writing …
You and I must have watched Little Women one hundred times – you were Jo (obviously) and I was Meg (even more obviously). You’ll remember that Jo only settles into her writing career once she writes about her dead sister, Beth. In other words, once she writes truly from the heart, about a place and a time and people she knows and loves and understands, she’s happy, and realises that, even if no-one else reads or likes her book, it’s something she’s proud of in her own right, without requiring approval from anyone else.
Why don’t you do the same thing? You could write about us i.e. two childhood friends who rekindle their friendship during difficult times in both of their lives, who discover, through the course of their correspondence, that nothing life is so utterly unbearable or totally unfathomable, when shared between friends. You can have all my letters – from you, from Dad, from everyone - and you could write a story just for me (you could exaggerate and drag it out a bit). During these past months I grown to realise that partners – and even some family – come and go, but best friends, well, they last a lifetime, don’t they.
It’s just an idea.
Love,
Polly
From: fletch71@yahoo.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: No subject
Date: 7 June
Dear, Polly
I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to respond, but I’m on leave at the moment doing a little travelling, so I haven’t always got access to the internet, I also needed time to think about your letter and what my answer should be.
I find this is such an unfortunate letter to write given your present situation, but the truth is, I think it’s too late for us to start again. I think your present state of mind is achievable only because you are in Iraq and, like you say, life has been stripped down to basics and you’re able to see things differently. But I know you, Polly, I really do. And I know that once you’re home, once you’re seeing children and mothers on the streets again and you’re back at work and other women are going off on maternity leave, you’ll soon yearn for a child and we’ll be back to square one. For the past few years, seeing your face weighed down with sorrow, has been hellish. And then losing Angelica, it’s a place I don’t want to go back to. I don’t need to look at a window pane in the rain to understand your sadness because, trust me, I felt every inch of your pain for years and it was my pain too. I’m sorry to say this, but I hadn’t realised how unhappy I was in our marriage until I was free of it.
The main reason I’m saying no to a reconciliation, though – and the difference between us – is despite everything we’ve been through, I would never have left you. I loved you. You broke my heart, Polly, and I just can’t imagine jumping on the hamster wheel again. I felt like you only wanted me in your life to provide you with a baby. But I wanted to spend my life with you with or without a baby, even though I really did desperately want to be a dad – that’s the difference between us. You miss me now because you’re in Iraq, but deep down, I don’t believe anything has really changed. I wish you all the very best in the world, but I need to start again. I know it’s a cliché but I mean it – be happy.
Josh
From: simonday14@hotmail.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: Cash
Date: 7 June
Hi, Pol
Can I change my mind about the offer of the borrowing some money? A mate leant me some cash a few months ago to tide me over and he’s being arsey about getting it back. Can you manage two grand? I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, promise.
Si
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: fletch71@yahoo.com
Subject: No subject
Date: 7 June
Josh
I understand.
Polly
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: simonday14@hotmail.com
Subject: Re: Cash
Date: 7 June
Hi, Si
Email me your bank details and I’ll find a way to get it transferred.
Pol
From: simonday14@hotmail.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: Re: Cash
Date: 8 June
Thanks a million, Pol. I’ll make it up to you – and that’s a promise.
From: percynmadge@hotmail.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: It’s Hot!
Date: 10 June
Dear Babe
Roll on July - what do you say?
I don’t know how you cope with the heat. We’ve had an unseasonable hot spell here and we’re struggling – 25 degrees! The dog tries to keep cool by lying in the shade underneath my car on the cold concrete, which means we’ve got to keep checking to make sure she’s not slipped through a hole that the cat’s made in the hedge on to next door’s drive – she’s a bugger for doing that. Mind you, we’ve got her cunning little plan sussed out now, so she’ll have to think up a new ruse. Would you believe, it’s starting to rain: let’s hope it doesn't thunder or else I’ll have a nursing job on my hands.
The big news is that they’ve caught the school arsonist. It’s shocking state of affairs but one of the pupils – a foster kid – set the place alight. What’s the world coming to, eh?
Mammy went to Shirley’s for her hair doing this morning, but as usual, she came back chuntering because she’d had a slightly darker colour put on and still can’t decide if it looks better or worse – at least it’s not green. Do you remember that little episode?
KYHD
Luvya, Mumndad. Xxx
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: acartwright1@hotmail.com
Subject: Arsonist
Date: 10 June
Dear, Mrs Cartwright
I’ve had a letter from my father with a throwaway line stating that the arsonist at the school is a child in foster care. Was it Oliver? If it was (and I hope and pray it wasn’t) can you please let me know what the situation and if there is anything I can do to help him.
Best wishes,
Polly
From: acartwright1@hotmail.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: Arsonist
Date: 11 June
Dear, Polly
I’m sorry you heard the news from your father, but I’m afraid he is correct, Oliver did, sadly, set fire to the school. He was seen in the school grounds on the night of the fire and when challenged, admitted he set his classroom on fire. I believe he put a match to his year group’s creative homework. He has been suspended from school pending investigation and is in the care of social services. I’m afraid I cannot facilitate your continued correspondence with Oliver, but if it is any consolation, his letters to you opened a window regarding how he felt about his situation and this will act in his favour.
Take good care.
Best wishes, Angela
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: acartwright1@hotmail.com
Subject: Re: Re: Arsonist
Date: 11 June
Dear, Angela
Thank you for letting me know. What will happen regarding his new adoptive parents – will the adoption still go ahead?
Best wishes,
Polly
From: acartwright1@hotmail.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Arsonist
Date: 11 June
Dear, Polly
I believe Oliver will not be adopted at thi
s time.
Best wishes,
Angela
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: aggieb@yahoo.com
Subject: For Fuck’s Sake!
Date: 12 June
Hi, Aggie
Josh doesn’t want me back. I don’t want to write about it. Also, it seems that Oliver, the boy at Midhope Primary I’ve been writing to, is the school arsonist. Gutted. And it’s so frustrating because I genuinely don’t believe he’s a bad kid, but he’s had a shit start to life. He was just pulling his life together, too.
What a nightmare, and what a mess we can get our lives into within just a few moments of recklessness. The old me would want to rock in a corner. But not anymore. I’ve had a day of hard, devastating knocks, but I’m alive. We did a repatriation ceremony an hour ago and I thought I was going to vomit. Six coffins were carried onto an aircraft draped in union flags and from somewhere, finally, I cried. I’ll come home and fight for my future. I’ll pull myself back bigger and better than ever before. I may not be able to see my future self in a particular setting or doing a particular job, but she’ll be a warm, gentle, confident woman, and if I get that right, surely the rest should follow?
Love, Pol
From: aggieb@yahoo.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
CC: gethynofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: That Fateful Day
Date: 14 June
Hello, you too.
I’m managing to sit up a little easier today, so I thought I write to let you know what happened on ‘that fateful day’. I’m able to sort of type with both hands now (shhh, don’t tell Isabella).
Where to begin …
It was a gloomy spring day consisting of only one season – winter. We were all taking shelter in the café. Even Moses had been driven inside by the force of the wind and icy rain. The radio was on and I was huddled in front of the wood-burner reading Moby Dick out loud (it soothes Moses … don’t ask). Anya was cleansing her chakras laying across a table next to the window in a meditative trance, and Isabella, who had moved the chairs and tables to the edge of the café to provide a little elbow room, was teaching Moses how to Argentine tango while I read aloud (I’d taught her some moves during a tango workshop I ran the week before).
Just as Isabella hooked her leg around Moses’ thigh for the last time and shouted, ‘Ole!’ the café door opened with a bang and a windswept alpha male blew in wearing an expensive waterproof jacket, a green woolly hat and a magnetic smile. Isabella froze in position, but what was fabulous was, on noticing Isabella, Nathan Browne (for it could only be him) also froze on the spot, and his jaw (with rain dripping from his silver stubble) dropped. We all remained suspended in animation for a few seconds before Isabella un-hooked her leg, smoothed her top over her jeans and, with the poise and grace of royalty, held out her hand, smiled and said, ‘Hello, Nathan. May I offer you some tea?’
Seconds later, another soaked soul walked through the door – Nathan’s assistant, Jack – and the realisation dawned on me that Nathan Browne had found his way to the end of the road on the very day we had decided it not worth the bother of baking – we hadn’t even bothered to get supplies, such was the ferocity of the weather. We had just about enough of the basics to knock up a Victoria sponge, but it wouldn’t be triple layer. I could have spit feathers! Rather than accept defeat, I kicked the table on which Anya was still laying comatose, and she awoke in the manner of Sleeping Beauty waking after her long sleep. Nathan was lovely if a little dumbfounded, and his underling, Jack, was very pleasant and easy to talk to. Isabella made the tea. When asked how on earth she had found herself at the Café at Road’s End, she explained in a deadpan face that she had come to Appledart for the weather. Everyone laughed, and Nathan waited for the real explanation, which wasn’t forthcoming.
Watching Isabella interact with Nathan was a masterclass in how to maintain a mysterious air with an attractive man – but I’ve written too many love stories to be under any illusion: they fancied the pants off each other. I seemed to be the only person who remembered the real reason for Nathan’s visit and, not knowing how long he intended to stay, saddled up Jekyll and indicated that Isabella should keep him talking while I shot off to Morir. Jekyll, sensing the urgency of the trip, shot off in a gallop, but I have not yet learned to gallop and even though I managed to stay on his back going up the hill, I was not so successful on the way down the hill and was thrown – some considerable way - and ended up in a ditch unconscious. It’s a good job I’m well-padded because I lay there for three hours before Ishmael (I can’t get used to calling him Moses, it just doesn’t suit him) found me. Apparently, Anya had felt a shiver and dispatched a search party. After that there was much commotion and, by hook or by crook, four hours later I was in a cottage hospital and then transferred to Inverness for X-rays and spent a couple of days under observation etc.
I arrived back in Appledart expecting Nathan to have left the peninsula taking our chances of getting into the guide with him, but I was wrong (and you’re not going to believe this) but the real reason Nathan had come to Appledart was to see Anya – to have his cards read (even though I speculated this might be the case, I was only joking). Despite many attempts at bribery, Anya will not divulge the nature of his reading. Also, and this is the best bit, Nathan and Jack decided to stay on for a few days to help Isabella run the café and to have a little holiday – they’ve been bunking up with Ishmael. It’s all a bit nuts, but Isabella has never looked so radiant (she seems to have forgotten all about small plums). Nathan and Jack are great company and although I’ve returned to Appledart a broken woman, I’ve had my every need catered for and – get this – that knock on the head must have done me some good because I feel like writing again. Hurrah! But … I’m going to take your advice, Polly, and write a story about love and friendship – about us. And I’m going to write it in my own name, just for me and you. Are you sure that’s OK?
Love to both of you, Aggie
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: aggieb@yahoo.com
Subject: Stuff
Date: 15 June
Hi, Aggie
Thank God you’re back on form – I’ve missed you. And of course it’s OK to fictionalise our story, I wouldn’t have suggested it if not.
It’s more or less a full moon tonight so I’ve taken a leaf out of your book and written my dreams down on a piece of paper. I’m going to burn the paper, just as you did, and send a prayer up to the universe. I actually only had one dream – for peace.
Why aren’t you telling me about your admirer? Have you found the man you dreamt up in your ritual after all?
With oodles of love,
Polly
From: aggieb@yahoo.com
To: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: Stuff
Date: 15 June
Oh, Polly. You’re so right. Peace is everything. I’m so sorry about Josh. Focus on the wonderful life you have to look forward to. You’re an amazing woman – just look at what you’ve just gone through. We’ve got a hell of a lot of laughing and dancing to do, you and I. So, pack your coat and grab your hat, leave your worries on the doorstep etc. etc. and come to Appledart for a holiday as soon as you get back.
As for my admirer, he’s very sweet and very smitten, even though I look like I’ve been through a mangle and I haven’t encouraged him AT ALL. I only had an hour in the cafe with him and Nathan before I shot off on Jekyll, but he keeps popping round because he feels like a gooseberry in the café with Nathan and Isabella. In fact, I’m really quite standoffish with him and haven’t put a brush through my hair in a week (why are men much more interested in you when you are less interested in them?). I haven’t kissed him (which is a first for me), much as I think he would like to, my excuse being that my mouth is too bruised from the fall. In summation, he’s handsome, kind, caring, quite funny and affable – he’s a nice man. A few months ago I would probably have gone for it, but a switch has
been turned in my head, and I don’t feel a desperate need to be in a relationship with just anyone, anymore. He’s not for me.
Love, Ag
P.S. Gethyn has suggested visiting me …
From: pollyofarabia@yahoo.com
To: aggieb@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: Re: Re:
Date: 16 June
Hi, Ag
You passed up on a snog with a handsome man? Your transformation is complete, young Jedi.
Did I tell you I fly home on 2 July? I’ll be homeless initially, but at least I’ll be home in Blighty. I’ve got a month’s post-deployment leave and so I’ll probably look for somewhere to rent in Exeter, but I don’t want to work at the Met Office anymore. What should I do with my life, Aggie? Maybe we’ll come up with something when I’m in Appledart.
Regarding Jack, I wonder why he doesn’t float you boat. He seems perfect, and he’s obviously smitten (maybe that’s his flaw …)
Love, Pol