Love Letter

Surprise!

February 1st.....

Dearest Alison,

I am flattered, astonished, and incredibly humbled by your letter. It would be my honour to write to you - hence this letter.

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply. By the time it made it to me via all the usual chanels, it had been almost ten days! Then, I had to take a little time to consider my reply. It's so very important to me that I'm as truthful and authentic with you as you most graciously were with me.

I totally agree that handwritten is by far the most personal - and often treasured - method of corresponding.

I was so sad to hear you're going through such a hard time. On the other hand, I was so heartened that you feel you can turn to me.

So, since we are to be pals, let's get to know one another? I love cake - as you so astutely noted - and I'm not that keen on rhubarb. I drink tea - as everyone seems to know - but I also harbour a secret passion for hot chocolate. Maybe one day we could drink hot chocolate and walk up the hill to see that sunrise, eh?

You want me to talk of Shakespeare and Pinter? Well, how about we start with who's your favourite Shakespeare character. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine so to speak? 

I think, though, we should talk about everything and anything. Our favourite tv? Our first ever album we bought? And yes, I think Cookie Monster forgave me eventually, ha ha!

No one should feel alone, let alone someone as articulate, bright, and from what I've read, endlessly funny. So, let's agree from this day on, we are friends. We can chat about serious things. We can laugh about silly things. We can cry, we can shout, but above all? This is our safe space.

Luke - I'm absolutely sure you know who I mean - told me to be careful. In my world, you have to be. I know that perhaps I am prone to jumping in with both feet, sometimes spectacularly so, but I just get the feeling we are going to be great friends. Anyone who can mention Shakespeare and Cookie Monster in the same breath is my kind of friend.

You'll notice I've put a new address at the top? I'll be honest with you, it's not mine, we're not quite there yet, darling, even I have to be a teeny bit circumspect. What it is, though, is one that will mean your delicious little slices of your day will get to me just that bit sooner. I hope that's ok?

Well, as I feared, I have to go for now. Please write soon? I can't wait to begin this wonderful journey with you. Let me leave you with a favourite quote of mine - since you seem to have a wonderful memory for things I've said and done ....

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

And from now on, dearest Alison, we are siblings in that family.

Take care, all my best
Tom xx

He put down the pen and smiled.  In his mind's eye, he could see her. Yet not really. It was more of a feeling. A warmth of spirit.

Over the years, he'd had many MANY fan letters. Some shy, some effusive, some downright scary, but all meant with the best of intentions. This one, however, had a certain something.

It touched a nerve. It touched his heart. The thought of this poor woman, alone in a nightmare, turning to him? Made him more emotional than he would ever have believed.

Picking up his phone and his jacket, he carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket. It was time to post it.  It was time to start the journey.

As he left the house, his phone rang. "Hi Luke... yes, yes, I have. Just now, actually.  No, I didn't... Yes, for once, I did listen to you." He laughed and shook his head. "I gave her yours instead."

There was a pause where he held the phone away from his ear, wincing.  When it quietened again, he replaced it and laughed. "Thanks, man, you're a real friend. Yeah, I'll be over shortly. Just got to go via the post box."

He nodded and hung up. Slipping the phone in his jeans, he trotted down the steps and into the sunny afternoon.

He had no idea if she would even reply. After all, it had been a while since she wrote, but who knew, maybe he'd convinced her that her trust was well founded.

As he deposited the letter in the post box, he whispered, "Speak to you soon, Alison." 

Maybe, just maybe, one day he would see her too?