Lola pulled the lid off. She’d placed the letters in an old plastic container to protect them. ‘Yes. Charlie’s letters to Ruby.’ She passed him the top one and waited while he read it.
Tristan placed the letter back in the envelope. ‘That’s very sweet. He clearly adored her.’
‘Yes, he did. She must have been heartbroken when he died. Her diary ends with just the mention of some terrible news. I know she was happy in the end with Ernest, he treated her really well and shared her love of dancing. They married quite quickly and she always had happy memories. He was a kind man, my grandfather, the only one who was ever able to rein Ruby in. I have no idea if he knew about Charlie.’
They lapsed into a thoughtful silence, the pile of letters sitting between them.
‘What are you really afraid of, Lola?’ Tristan eventually asked.
‘This is the end of it. All those lives changed,’ she said, signalling to the letters.
Tristan placed them back into the box. ‘Let’s have something to eat, then we can think about what to do.’
Dinner was lovely, the wine helped soothe Lola’s worries about the letters and Tristan provided a welcome distraction from everything by telling her about the video-call he’d had earlier with his niece and nephews, all of them bouncing around with the excitement of Christmas and driving their mum slowly mad.
‘Would you like your own family?’ Lola asked, her edges blurred by the wine.
‘Yes, if it happens, it would be delightful, but if not,’ Tristan gave a shrug and asked, ‘What about you, Lola?’
A jolt down her spine made her wish they’d skipped right onto Charlie’s letters. ‘I’ve never really thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘I guess once upon a time I imagined everything would just fall into place, but now, well, I’m almost forty, I’m not sure time is on my side anymore in that regard. Gosh, that is more sobering than discussing shipwrecks,’ she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Tristan squeezed her hand. ‘It’s OK, Lola. I don’t have a checklist for my life and I’m a firm believer in divine timing and whatever will be, will be,’ he said as he picked up their plates and stuck them in the sink. Coming back to the table, he kissed her before sitting back down.
Lola picked up her glass. ‘A toast to whatever will be.’
Tristan chinked his glass against hers, took a sip and then asked, ‘The letters, shall we read the rest of them together?’
Lola nodded and pulled them out of the box. Heads together, they took it in turns to read the missives. Lola imagined Ruby sending Charlie pages and pages of gossip and lovestruck dreams. Charlie’s letters were full of romantic longing, descriptions of the sunset and plans for the future.
‘That’s very sweet,’ Tristan said.
‘He’s smitten, isn’t he?’
‘And working so hard. Your grandmother must have been really worth it, Lola, this isn’t just some summer crush, is it? They really wanted to spend their lives together.’
Lola toyed with one of the envelopes. ‘Yes, I guess they did. I’ve not seen it like that because I know how it ends. I never considered this might be how Ruby expected her life to turn out. I wonder if they’d really have been happy together though. Ernest had a very good job and Ruby had a nice, very comfortable life and I think it may have been different if she’d run away with a Cornish fisherman, even though that’s terribly romantic.’
Tristan picked up the next letter and read, ‘“We don’t normally go out this time of year but we’ve heard there’s a large shoal coming in. It should be a good catch. My brother doesn’t want to go out, says he thinks it’s dangerous this time of year, but myself and some others think it’ll be worth it. You’re worth the risk Ruby.”’
Lola shuddered and caught Tristan’s gaze. They both knew what happened next. Had it been worth the risk? Maybe if Charlie had taken it with his love for Ruby in his heart.
‘Lola? There’s one letter left.’
Lola studied it, the handwriting was different, smaller, more solemn. She picked the letter up and opened it, then paused, her stomach sinking.
Dear Ruby,
It’s with regret I write to inform you that Charlie has been lost at sea. I would ask you to respect our family during this time of mourning. Please do not contact us again.
Lola swallowed back her tears; the letter was almost cruel in its preciseness. Lola’s mind flicked back to the tear-stained final diary entry. How had Ruby felt to have received this letter, to have the rug pulled from under her feet? For that glorious summer-tinged future to be wiped out in a few harsh words. Even more shocking for Lola was to see the name signed at the bottom. A name of someone she had come to love like a surrogate grandfather, a name that had likely torn her own grandmother’s life apart.
Alf.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Every time Alf came into the café, Lola’s stomach churned with indecision. She had placed the photo and some of the letters in a protective plastic wallet and slipped them into her handbag, waiting for the right moment to place them in front of Alf and ask him to fill in the missing pieces. However, every time she saw him, with his jovial nature, his interest in her different festive bakes, even if he did proclaim the reindeer cupcakes too sweet and the gingerbread latte ‘not bad if you like that sort of thing’, she lost more of her nerve. Would it be better to leave Charlie and Ruby to rest? Would it be any comfort for Alf to know Ruby had gone on to live a long, happy life, when Charlie had never seen his twenty-third birthday?
Lola found other ways to occupy her mind. The ticking down of the days towards Christmas meant more people were popping in for treats and Tristan had placed an order of mince pies for the mingling after the carol service. She’d started to plan out how she was going to decorate the Christmas cakes, Alf’s jumper was finished and if she got a move on, it wouldn’t take long to finish off Scruff’s. The solstice ritual was gathering a bit of interest. Lola earmarked an evening in her diary to sit down and plan it out properly, including writing her meditation. She wanted it to be special, reflective of her new life here and hopeful for the future. Lots of old furniture that was beyond repair had been left in Bayview House and Angelo had promised to bring it along to burn. Her Christmas shopping was mostly done, she and Tristan had managed to sneak off for an afternoon of what should have been retail therapy but was more akin to retail hell.
