Who is Gethyn Evans? Who is Agatha Braithwaite, for that matter? Our letters could hide a myriad of lies and yet, I don’t care, because I feel that perhaps I’ve seen a side of you that no one else has seen. What I know for absolute certainty is that you’re a man I would be honoured to meet because:
- You’re the man who stole a tent, so my friend could have some privacy in a world where every scrap of womanhood was taken from her.
- You’re the man who took her a bowl of water, so she could clean herself during her lowest days.
- You’re the man who made a football out of a sandbag to cheer her up.
- You’re the man who danced to the Bee Gees during a scud attack.
- You’re a man with a moral conscience.
- You’re also the man who got me to strip away my ego, see myself as the heroine in my own novel, rip apart my story and write a new and better one.
Come to Appledart and have some fun, you deserve it.
Yours, Agatha
P.S. If I’m your Scheherazade, does that make you my Arabian knight?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Happy Ending?
Date: 22 June
I’ll see you next Saturday – armour and all.
G
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Happy Ending?
Date: 22 June
There’s no boat on a Saturday.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Ending?
Date: 22 June
I’m a knight. The lack of a boat won’t stop me.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Hello Darling
Date: 23 June
Dear, Agatha
How are you, my darling? Terrible news about the horse fall. Sorry I haven’t been in touch since you went away. My computer crashed just after you left, and I’ve only just got it back from that chap on the high street. I’ve been so very busy, though, the time has just flown by. But I’m back online now so do let me know how you’re getting on at that sweet little café of yours.
I wanted to tell you that a journalist from The Sun contacted me a couple of days ago. He asked me all kinds of questions about you, my daughter, the secret author! I have absolutely no idea how the word got out, but I was very subtle. I think they are running an article on you this Sunday – I thought you’d want to know. Well, must dash. Do let me know when I can visit. I do miss you, darling.
Mamma x
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: You’ll Never Fucking Believe This!
Date: 23 June
Hi, Rosie
Total frigging nightmare! I think my complete imbecile of a mother has let it slip in the village that I ghost write for Isabella, the upshot being that someone has tipped off the press (probably Mum, come to think of it) and Isabella will be ‘outed’ in the papers this Sunday. We didn’t even know anything about it until Mum emailed to tell me (she certainly chose her moment to get in touch).
All hell has been let loose with Isabella’s agent – who wanted to sue me for breach of contract - but bizarrely, Isabella herself doesn’t seem to care. It seems the only absolute truth in life is this: when you’re shagging like a wombat, nothing in the world can bother you!
But back to you. If you don’t want the Met Office job you could set sail for absolutely anywhere you choose, but if you’re not sure, maybe go back to your old job for a while, just to get your feet back on terra firma, then why not just see which way the wind blows you (as a met woman at least you’ll know which direction you’re headed).
Regarding Jack, the problem is that I seem to have fallen for Gethyn – I know, madness - and I know I’ve never met him, but I genuinely do believe there is a connection that common sense cannot explain. Perhaps we find our soulmates via routes we could never possibly have expected, but that route was pre-ordained the whole time? Take Isabella, for example. Who would ever have foretold her great luck – not even Anya, I reckon.
So, I’ve invited Gethyn to stay. He’s coming next week. But here’s some news: I have no intention of jumping into bed with him, no way. It’s easy to get carried away in an email, but we’ve never met, and we may not fancy each other and I don’t want to ruin his time here by flirting wildly on email and then doing to him what I did to the jockey in Venice. No matter what, though, he’s going to have a wonderful time, and so are you when you come to stay. Can’t wait to see you, Rosie. And this time, we’re never going to lose touch again.
Love, Ag
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Coming Home
Date: 24 June
Oh, Aggie
I’m thrilled to bits Gethyn is coming to stay. I think you’ll fancy him though, no question, and he’ll definitely have the hots for you. It’s all just perfect and exactly as I planned (cue villainous laugh). I know I was supposed to learn from Emma and not meddle, but after the Simon disaster, I wanted to make amends. I hope I’m finally forgiven now.
But back to me. You’re right. It’s time to set sail and leave my failed marriage in the past. But I may not need to go back to the Met Office as I’ve got an idea (and I got it from your friends from the café) – and my idea is – go to Antarctica!
I know! Crazy!
I had an email from work to say that the British Expedition Force are looking for a meteorological observer to join their team for six months – it can’t be a coincidence. I’ve put my name down and I’ve got a good chance of getting it.
What do you think?
Love, Rosie
‘E’ Bluey
From: Andrea Evans
To: Rosie
Date: 24 June
Dear, Rosie
I wanted to write you a quick note to say thank you so much for suggesting I follow my heart. I’ve enrolled on a nursing course starting in September. Mum’s going to have the kids for me and I’ll be able to keep some hours at the shop. I can’t wait. It’s like a whole new life is about to start. Get in touch when you get home. I’d love to see you. Thanks again.
Take care, Andrea
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Coming Home
Date: 24 June
Antarctica? Not you too? It’s a bit extreme, Rosie, but fuck it - great idea. Go for it! We never know what lies round the corner, do we?
In your last letter you said you want to put your failed marriage behind you. This got me thinking about the world ‘failure’ and I realised that relationships that come to an end should not automatically be regarded as failures. I think we should stop associating the ending of things with failing, full stop. Many people who live alone have a sense of having failed in some way, which categorically is not the case (and if a woman does not have a baby, this is not a case of failing, either). I would have been much more content as a single woman in Yorkshire if I hadn’t known the tongues of the women at the shop (OK, one woman at the shop) were casting aspersions. But was she, really? And so, what if she was? Similarly, some women are predisposed to be genuinely motherly, while others, like my own mother, have no concept of selfless nurturing. But again, does this mean that she too is a failure? (I can’t believe I’m giving her some slack bearing in mind her latest exploits).
We are all only failures if viewed in a certain light. Yes, I would love to have a monogamous relationship (‘it’s better with two, said Poo’) but even if Gethyn and I hit it off, I will never again allow myself the horror of being without close friends – especially female friends. How many times have I listened to women in this café cry their hearts out, usually saying that their man doesn’t understand them, but seriously, of course men
don’t understand us, they aren’t women!
The most useful thing Anya has taught me is that most of the upset in my life has been caused through my own thought processes – through my own imagination. Yes, I would like to love and be loved – it’s a wonderful thing – but I should not expect that if I can just find a man he’ll be delivered with an unlimited supply of happiness. I don’t think one man can possibly provide me with everything I desire; and I won’t expect Gethyn to either; laughter, DIY, sympathy, financial security, foot warmer in bed.. Also, my partner shouldn’t expect me to be all kinds of a woman in one, either.
And here endeth the sermon, by Agatha Braithwaite.
Ciao, Bella. Safe trip home, lovely lady.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Antarctica
Date: 25 June
Dear, Rosie
I’ve not been able to settle since your phone call, so I got Dad to log me onto email because I needed to write to you straight away. I’ve been thinking about your application to go to Antarctica and wondering if it’s the right thing to do. I agree you need to take charge of your life and go out and grab it by the tail, but do you realise you’d be jumping from a sandy desert to an icy one. Are you deliberately placing yourself outside normal life – normal society – as a means of running away? I can understand this, but what happens after Antarctica? Will you move on to the jungle, or the outback, or Alaska? You say you’ve found peace, but have you if you’re still running?
With love, Mum x
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Deliriously Happy!
Date: 27 June
Hi, Rosie
Oh my God! Gethyn arrived yesterday, and I’ve just had THE BEST twenty-four hours of my life.
But oh, the best bit is the story of how he travelled to Appledart. He walked (yes, walked) across the Appledart mountains (twenty miles of hard-walking in horrendous weather) to get to me because the boat doesn’t run on a Saturday. He’d joked that he’d find a way to get to me as soon as he could, but I never for one second thought he would walk here. When he stepped through the door of the café - wet through and a bit out of breath, with his paunch popping out of the lower buttons of his shirt and the rain shining off his head - I was sat at a table in front of the fire playing cards with Anya. When I turned around and looked at the person who had dropped his rucksack on the floor I knew it was him. I tried to learn from Isabella and be as cool with Gethyn as she was with Nathan, but of course, I could never be that cool. I rushed over to him and tried to speak but turned into a tongue tied, blithering fool. Gethyn took my hands in his and bid me to be quiet a moment and said, ‘I’ve walked a long way but I’m hoping this is the end of the road, and if you’re Agatha Braithwaite, I’m sure it will be.’
Oh, my Jesus Christ – how romantic was that!
Gethyn said it was you who persuaded him it was the right move to come and visit - thank you, thank you, thank you, my sweet, amazing friend! And don’t worry your head about anything at all, because I’m absolutely certain that your life is going to have a miraculous change of direction any moment, I just feel it in my bones.
Love, Ag
P.S. I may have invited Gethyn back to my place after all – Agatha Braithwaite, you’re such a devil!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Deliriously Happy!
Date: 27 June
Hi, Ag
That’s wonderful news. I’m so pleased for you both. Send Gethyn my love. Have a fabulous time. See you very soon.
Love, Rosie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Hello Darling
Date: 27 June
Hello, Mamma
It was lovely to hear from you. Everything is good at my end but I’m keeping a low profile with the press and I strongly suggest you do the same. I’d love for you to visit, but I wonder if we could keep my location a secret. Like you used to say, Mamma, it’s just me and you in this life together and no one else needs to be involved.
Let me know when you want to come, and I’ll book your tickets. I could fly you to Inverness and have you picked up in a car? Would you like that?
Love you, Agatha x
Bluey
From: Rosie
To: Mrs Hughes (via the Post Office)
Date: 28 June
Hi, Mum
The Internet is down, but I wanted to write a letter just to you before I leave to say thank you so much for everything while I’ve been away. The packages, the letters, everything. I stood on the banks of the Euphrates today. It was amazing - a lush oasis of hope in the middle of an arid hellhole. The Euphrates is very special, spiritual almost. I brought Angelica’s tiny knitted hat to Iraq in my rucksack, the one she wore in intensive care, just after she was born. I’m going to put the hat and a message in a bottle, take it to the river tomorrow and let it all just flow away.
Love you, Mum.
Your, Rosanna xx
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Appledart
Date: 28 June
Hi, Rosie
Me again.
Guess where I am? You never will. I’m in Appledart. Is that spontaneous enough for you? I’m writing to you from your friend Agatha’s laptop. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve been chatting to her and your friend Gethyn for a few hours and they seem to have set me straight. I’d better explain:
After I looked in your chest of special things for the lamp I felt so confused. Then I got your letter and my head went into meltdown. I decided to bring my holiday forward a week, put on my walking boots, packed a bag, jumped in the car, went to your Dad’s to drop off his tools, felt even more confused, then hit the road with the express purpose of getting away from everything – especially from mobile phones, email and from the bloody media pushing out images of Iraq all the damn time. When I left your Mum’s house I checked into a hotel, logged onto a computer and emailed you my first response. Ten minutes later I knew I’d made a mistake but didn’t know what to do. So, I carried on travelling north, not entirely sure where I was headed and bounced from one hotel to another. And then I got an email from your friend, Agatha, inviting me to Appledart, and before I knew it, I was here.
Agatha has been fantastic, and in talking to her, I finally let go of all my pent-up emotion and the long and short of it is this: all I know is life is shit without you and I’ve changed my mind. So yes, I agree, if you’ll have me, let’s try again. I don’t know why I sent that bloody letter saying no. I was an arse. Come home to Dartmoor. I’ve called off the exchange of contracts on the cottage, it’s ours and no one else’s and I promise I’ll be more spontaneous in future and I’ll work less.
Finally, in the closing words of Edith Piaf; give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, La Vie en Rose.
Rosie Hughes, will you marry me? Phone as soon as you can with your answer.
Love, Josh x
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Thank You
Date: 28 June
Hi, Gethyn
I’m just about to head into the city, but I wanted to send you a quick message to you to say what I failed to say on your last night in Basra – thank you.
You and I will always know what we’ve seen and what we’ve done, but I don’t know that I’ll ever want to talk about it. I don’t want to let the moment pass without making sure you know that the day you walked into HQ and smiled that fabulous smile was one of the most blessed moments of my life. I will never forget dancing in the desert. Thank you a thousand times over, my wonderful friend. I surely would have been lost in hell without you.
Love, Rosie
P.S. I hid the little ornament of Big Ben that came with Aggie�
�s hamper in your Bergen before you left – it’s to remind you of our time together (the good bits).
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: My First Chapter!
Date: 28 June
Hi, Rosie
I know I’m going to see you next week, but I had to write straight away and tell you that I’ve completed chapter one of my new novel – and it flew onto the page! Oh, I know it will probably be cut to pieces in the edit, but all I can say is, ‘Thank Christ for that!’
And so thank you, my wonderful friend, for allowing me to tell your story. I promise to take the very best of care of it. I’m wetting myself with excitement about writing the final chapter, which is going to be so blooming heart-warming, there will not be a dry eye in the house. Just imagine the scene: two old friends meet up for the first time on an achingly beautiful Scottish beach, one having just come back from a war zone in the desert, the other having finally found a purpose to her life, after years of being lost in a desert of her own. We lost many years of friendship (and all because of a man and a misunderstanding – women will never learn!) but once you get home, we can crack on with a new bucket list and pledge (in blood, if necessary) never to lose touch again. Anyway, enough mush. I’m sending the blurb for the book. Let me know what you think!
With all the love in the world,
Aggie (AKA Stella Valentine – I told you I’d find a use for the name)
West Yorkshire Herald Headline
Date: 30 June 2003
Local Woman Killed in Basra
A Royal Naval Reserve Officer was gunned down in Basra yesterday, next to the River Euphrates, in an ambush that left two service personnel dead and two in a critical condition. Rosanna Hughes, a thirty-four-year-old Meteorological Forecaster, originally from West Yorkshire …
Epilogue
Bluey
From: Rosie
To: Aggie
Dated: 29 June
Read: 3 July
Hi, Aggie
The Internet has crashed again and won’t be up and running for a couple of hours so, for old times’ sake, I thought I’d return to the good old Bluey system for my last letter before I go home.
Dear Rosie Hughes Page 21
