Ill Write You a Letter
Emily, are you waiting for someone? Lisa tugged gently at her friends sleeve.
Natalie sat turned halfway towards the lecture hall door, so absorbed she barely seemed to hear her frienddespite Lisa having tried for the best part of half an hour to tell her about her latest acquaintance. Lisas lips pressed together in mild offence, but she soon relented. Natalie was her mate after allher very first real girlfriend-friend; until recently, Lisa had never had that sort of closeness with other girls.
Lisas only confidant had been her distant cousin, Ed, who lived in the next street. Their parents had been fast friends since university, so Lisa and Ed naturally ended up digging in the same sandpit as kidsthen sitting side by side through school. Ed, all skinny and gangly, had to play the loyal squirelugging Lisas posh rucksack (a gift from her mother Angela, and not to be entrusted to just anyone). Even as Lisa grew a full head taller than Ed, she considered herself too much a proper young lady to carry it herself. That rucksack, mind, was heavy going: when Ed staggered behind Lisa across the playground, he veered from side to side like a ship in a gale, especially whenever she darted off to play tag or shouted, Quick! Theres mumrun! Were late for English!
Angela would collect Lisas things from Ed, shaking her head, Are you sure youre getting enough to eat, love? Youll blow away in this wind!
Ed was well fed. His gran saw to thatpiling him with bowls of stew and mountains of scones, but all the hearty meals in England couldnt put meat on his bones. Ed had a constitution, as they called it, and a metabolism so quick he learned the word before his alphabet. His family called him a genius, but Lisa always treated him like any ordinary boyready to give him a friendly knock on the head if he got too big for his boots.
Lisas attitude and protection had shaped Eds school life. Thanks to her, the other kids, though mystified by Eds quirks, never picked on him. Lisa was the unspoken leader of their class, and her approval carried weight. Because of this, Ed had immunity for yearsand adored Lisa for it. He admired her, valued her, and even loved her in an unobtrusive, grateful way; she was closer to him than any living soul (except perhaps, but not really, his parents).
Hed never dare talk to his motherFionaabout thorny topics. Should I kiss a girl on the first date, or hold off for the second? Mention something like that, and Fiona would raise her exquisitely shaped brows in shock, gasp without disturbing her flawless makeup (and then faint away, not to recover until the ambulance arrived).
In Fionas world, Ed was above earthly things like romancehe was meant for great discoveries, and someday Fiona would select the proper wife for him: an agreeable woman, happy to keep house and shine beside him at university banquets, but never overshadow him. Shed need enough brains to bear bright grandchildren, but not so much wit as to question the family order. Her main virtue: charming dimness, taking every cue from her in-laws. Above all, Fionas opinions would reign.
Faced with so many demands, Eds options were clear: remain a bachelor or escape to the Scottish Highlands (though even there Fiona could probably find him). For now, he waited out his mothers schemes, no idea what he was to wait foronly that he clung to some shining expectation, the hope that life really began just beyond the horizon.
The lecture hall steadily filled. Natalies eyes never left the door as Lisa settled in, quietly wondering who her friend was awaiting. To Lisas knowledge, Natalie didn’t even have a would-be suitor.
Natalies parents were both strikingher mothers legs so endlessly long that her father often quipped you barely needed to look at her face. The nurse, when Natalie was born, had noted, What legs! Just like her mum! But Natalies were only long, not elegant. Her parents affectionately called her their Little Elephant, and, by adulthood, she wore a size nine and a half shoe: buying anything halfway fashionable was a struggle, so Natalie learned to waltz confidently into the mens department for trainers. She soon wore them with everything, even at the magistrates court where she worked. At first, colleagues stared, but when the most fastidious judge arrived in an identical pair of blue trainers, the ice broke. Natalie even loaned her new pair to an older barrister suffering with his feet. No sense in agonisingcheer up, Ive just bought these, take them! If you want, Ill bring you another pair tomorrow.
No one teased Natalie at schoolher father had marched her to wrestling from the start, where her height and build became assets.
Mighty heart, mighty soul! her mother used to say, with her father always nodding. It stung less to look in the mirror when you knew those who understood you best saw only goodness.
Natalie met Lisa at university. Lisastriking and fair, in a dazzling scarlet suitsat beside her, smoothed her hair, stuck out her hand and chirped, Elizabeth! Lovely to meet you! Natalie, embarrassed, gently shook her hand, her own palm nearly engulfing Lisas. Natalie, she whispered.
Natalie? Much too plain. Lets call you Emily! Its prettier, Lisa declared, whipping out a mirror and an entire handbags worth of cosmeticsleaving little room for books. She laid out blush, mascara and a wild lipstick. You look as pale as a dormouselets make you radiant! No offence, Im only bossy when it comes to looks. Natalie, with almost no girlfriend-experience, gave in. Lisas cheerful pushiness was far from her mothers tentative, Perhaps a little mascara, darling? but Emily felt warmed by the energy.
What are you wearing? My wordis that in fashion now or did your grans chest of drawers finally give way? Lisa cackled. Come on, lets visit my mum. Shell sort you out.
That evening, Lisa whisked Emily to her mums boutique. Angela, elegance itself with her tiny espresso cup, appraised Emily in her new outfit. Striking type, that one. A proper challenge! When Emily tried to pay the next day, Angela merely smiled, gave her a dazzling new lip gloss, and sent her on her way.
Lisa clung to Emily, and soon the two were inseparable, holidays and all. Lisa drafted page after page of husband criteria, while Emily, quietly certain shed found the man for her, stayed silent. For her, it was Ed.
By university, Ed had turned from an awkward, spotty adolescent into a quietly attractive man, though still short. At Lisas command, he came to the cluband the moment he met Emily, he was lost. That awkward night, Lisa noticed everything: Crikey, Ed! In love, are you?
All Ed could think was that Emilynoble, tall, so alivewould never give a half-pint like him a second glance. Especially with Eds mothers impossible requirements looming.
After that, Ed vanished from Lisa and Emilys gatherings. Emily cried half the night, then reasoned: if Ed hadnt even said goodbye, she clearly didnt interest him. So, she told herself to move onbut failed. Even when Lisa dragged her from club to club, Emily escaped as soon as she could, hurried home and sat at her computer, awaiting the ping of a new email from her secret friendthe only one who understood her hopes and fears. Over time, their letters grew daily; soon there were no boundaries, and everything was shared. Ed knew whom he wrote toEmily had no idea who was behind the screen.
Lisa, whod started the whole farce by giving Ed Emilys email, waited for one of them to break silence, but years passed. Emily graduated law and started workbut still, a single new email in her inbox was enough to make everything else fade away.
Lisa, meanwhile, whizzed in and out of marriage as breezily as buying shoes: We had nothing to split, no kidswhy make a fuss? Im grateful we were happy for a bit, thats all. Now Ive met someone who Oh, Emily, youre hardly listening!
Emily wasnt. She watched the door, heart thudding, uncertain if she should stay or runwaiting for her friend, her faceless pen pal, rather than anyone real. A school reunion was coming, partners compulsory. Suddenly, declaring, I wont come alone! she dashed off a note:
I know Im asking a lot, but my time for dithering is done. Yesterday, I was a teenager. Today, I found a grey haira family trait and, frankly, a shock. Why does time race? Why cant we press pause? I want a real life, not a digital shadow. I want a family, shared dinners, arms instead of screens.
So, tomorrows our reunionand rules say everyone must bring a plus-one. Will you be minemake this real? If yes, please come. If not, dont write. Ill delete this mailbox after tomorrow, so this is my last letter. Ill wait for you at the university.
Emily sent it before she could change her mind. The following day was a jittery blurberating herself and yet clinging to hope. Shed stopped thinking of Ed years ago, she tried to insistyet every email was really for him.
The night arrived. Emily watched the door, ready to boltwhen suddenly, Ed appeared on the threshold, heart racing, just as nervous. Lisa clapped her hands in triumph, About time! You two are ridiculous!
Ed and Emily stared at each other, everything else fading away. Hello, she whispered.
Hello. How are you?
How are you?
Ill writetonight, Ed began.
Dont you dare! Emily stopped him. No more letters. Im not letting you go again.
That was my line. But youre right. Never again.
Two years on, the Simmonds old country cottage was filled with laughter and guests. Emily, birthday girl, set the table and fetched plates until her husband seized a dish from her hands and sat her on the steps.
Better take JamieIm apparently the worlds worst dad. Your mums convinced thats why hes teething and wont settle.
Emily took their son, held him close and he instantly calmed. How do you do that? Ed marvelled, kissing them both.
Youre nervoushe senses it! she teased.
Oh really?
Really! Emily grinned, then quieted him as a car pulled up. Parents!
Em, love, can I ask you if my mum?
Oh, Ed, your mums wonderful. Clever, sharp, finally almost normal since she became Grandma. With Jamie, shes found her calling. Shes started singing him French lullabies, you know! Hell probably speak better French than English, she lectures him already about articles and irregular verbs.
How dreadful!
Hardly. He falls asleep instantly. Gives me time to get on with things.
I always knew I married the cleverest woman Id ever meet.
Oh, shushdont let your mum hear! She has to be your paragon, at least within earshot. Thats the key to peace in our cottage!
And how are you so wise?
From here. Emily stroked Jamies blonde head, rose and met the guestssmiling, radiant, complete.
Smile, dear husband, she whispered. Or tonight, youll get a letter from me. Not a happy one, mind!
Let me write to you instead? Ed winked. Ive sent plenty. And I could write a thousand more.
Emily chuckled and handed Jamie to his doting grandma, her heart full. Go aheadIll be waiting. Thank the stars for letter-writing and for love that finally found its way home.Outside, the sun dipped behind the old oaks, painting the windows golden. The house, once silent and lonely, now echoed with the clatter of cups, the low hum of new conversations, and the delighted squeals of Jamie swooping through loving arms. Lisa, glamorous as ever but a little softer around the eyes, raised a glass to toast the most improbable happy ending I ever had a hand in. Even Fionanow Granbeamed with genuine, unguarded pride, bouncing Jamie gently, her careful composure slipping with every giggle.
Ed caught Emilys gaze across the rooma quiet understanding passing between them. Two people who once hid behind words, now surrounded by a family born of courage and hope, not plans or approval.
Later, after farewells drifted out into the starry lane, Ed found Emily in the quiet kitchen, tidying bottle caps and half-full plates. He drew her close, folding her into his arms.
Did you ever think, he murmured into her hair, that waiting would lead us here?
She shook her head. No. But Id wait againall those yearsfor this.
Ed smiled, pressing a letter into her hand, its pages blank but for her name.
Whats this? Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.
Just a promise, Ed replied softly, that the best partour real storyis only just beginning.
Emily tucked it away, content at last to leave the unwritten parts for living, not for letters. Above them, the moon lit the path home, and inside, laughter and music carried on into the gentle night.
