The Last Letter from Juliet - Melanie Hudson Page 0,48
you, Fenella.’
Feeling warmer just at the notion of hot chocolate I picked up the scissors and, like the obedient worker bee I’d become, started to snip.
***
It was one a.m. when, still buzzing with the night’s shenanigans, I turned the key to Juliet’s cottage. It was cold inside (those old-style Economy 7 heaters never did cut the mustard), but after the heat of Fenella’s kitchen (Did I say kitchen? I meant sweatshop!) and two glasses of Christmas Spirit, I was happy to cool down a little. Needing to take a moment to calm my brain before heading upstairs to bed, I flashed up the laptop to check if Sam had written back. He had.
Hi, Katherine
Thank you for your email. I’m so pleased you got in touch because I’m afraid I need your help, but more of that in a moment, because, to put you out of your misery straight away – yes, I am happy for you to read Juliet’s memoirs.
A bit late now.
Reading your email, I had the feeling you believe Juliet to be dead … this is not the case.
What? Never!
Juliet will celebrate her one hundredth birthday this Christmas Day. She lived at the cottage with increasing amounts of help until a couple of years ago when finally (kicking and screaming) she moved into a local care home for the elderly. The care home is called Lanyon, which is a name you will no doubt recognise from her memoirs. Lanyon House is our ancestral home, but was sold by Juliet in the 1970’s. In returning to Lanyon she has gone full circle, which far from being wonderful, is, I fear, the last thing Juliet would have wanted to do, but there was no other workable solution.
I received an email from the manager at Lanyon this morning explaining that Juliet has become agitated. She is desperate to find a particular item that belonged to her father – a compass that looks like a pocket watch. It seems she has mislaid it. I wonder … could you please have a good nosy around to see if you can find it – I’m sure you will. It’s probably got a label on it, knowing Juliet. If you find it, would you mind nipping up to Lanyon (someone from the village will give you a lift, although it isn’t too far to walk), explain who you are – Juliet is aware that you are staying at the house for Christmas – and take it to her. Also, would you mind sitting with her for a while?
Not at all. I’d bloody love it!
Her body has been frail for some years, but her mind has remained as sharp as a new pin and you should find her excessively good company, depending upon the extent of the reported agitation.
Please tell her that I’m trying my best to get back for Christmas. I was only supposed to be temporarily detached to cover for a crew member who left the ship due to an unexpected bereavement, but three weeks later, I’m still here. Juliet and I made a pact several years ago that if she managed to live so long, I would reward her by taking her flying in the Tiger Moth on her one hundredth birthday – Christmas Day – and she is holding me to it. The aircraft in question is the very same yellow Tiger Moth her father gave her for her birthday, all those years ago. It is stored at an old airfield called Predannack, just down the road from Lanyon. When I made the pact with Juliet, I thought the chance of her living to one hundred unlikely, but this is Juliet Caron we’re talking about and I should have known better. The thought of taking her flying at her age petrifies me, but she is absolutely determined to go.
Do carry on reading her story. Gerald told me you’re a professor of history and once wrote a book. Perhaps one day you could do something with Juliet’s story, too?
Best wishes,
Sam
P.S. Gerald said you’re going to find an answer to the apostrophe question (poor you!). You could do worse than to ask Juliet … she believes in angels, by the way.
P.P.S. Yes, I am The Last Coddiwompler. What did you think to my blog?
My mind whirred. Not only was Sam the same Sam Lanyon who had written the blog, but most importantly, Juliet was alive! And I would actually meet the lady whose story had begun to mean so much to me.