The Last Letter from Juliet - Melanie Hudson Page 0,99

held each other close by the fireside and danced to the Vera Lynn hit song, We’ll Meet Again. Amber never left his side all evening. She loved this enigmatic stranger, this American, this Austrian, this Edward Nancarrow, this Felix Gruber, or whoever else he might be, Amber didn’t care. With every morsel of her body she simply adored him, and so did I.

Chapter 35

Katherine

Another surprise visitor

I lay the manuscript down on the sofa beside me and sat for a moment thinking of Juliet. Not Juliet of the 1940s, but Juliet as she was right now, asleep perhaps, or maybe sitting her chair, awake and remembering.

In need of a little air, I wrapped Juliet’s shawl around my shoulders, slipped my feet into a pair of Wellingtons left by the door, stepped outside and looked down towards the harbour. The Christmas lights were turned off now, but the village didn’t need any extra sparkle tonight. The almost-full moon shimmered across the water, reflecting a silvery road through the middle mount of the angels, which – to my absolute delight and enchantment – had been given a single cross that remained lit, positioned on the crag on top of the island.

It seemed to be the perfect moment to pour out a glass of wine and play some music and try to behave a little more festively – it was Christmas Eve, after all – and maybe tonight I could break my embargo on love songs, if only in memory of Lottie, the incorrigible romantic. I flicked through Juliet’s record collection and smiled when the wartime songs Juliet had occasionally referenced popped up, including, I’ll Be Seeing You, Hold Me in Your Arms a Little Longer, Baby and Yours.

With my wine glass for a partner, I danced slowly around the room to the slow, evocative song, Yours. I played the song twice more and I was just smooching around the room in my Scottish tartan pyjamas, pretending to be Vera Lynn, when my phone pinged. Uncle Gerald, no doubt. His timing was always perfected to the exact moment when I need to be brought down to earth with a thump.

But it wasn’t from Gerald. It was an email from Sam Lanyon.

Hi Katherine.

Happy Christmas!

Quick question. Is that white wine you’re dancing with, or champagne? If not champagne, don’t worry, I have some!

See you VERY soon.

Sam

What the …?

I glanced through the lounge window and saw nothing but the moon and the sea and the little cross on the island. I emailed back.

Hi Sam

Wine, I’m afraid. Did the elf grass me up?

Katherine

Almost immediately there was a knock at the door.

He was here. He was actually here.

I glanced at my reflection in the hall mirror – mascara stains and bead head. I spat on my pyjama sleeve and wiped my eyes before eventually opening the door.

And there he was.

Standing in front of me wearing his Navy flying suit with a bottle of champagne in his hand and an infectious smile on his face (his beard was surprisingly sweet, actually) was Sam Lanyon. And I have absolutely no idea why – maybe it was the emotion of Juliet’s story, or the noise of the party that had clearly spilled out of the pub and onto Noel’s front garden, or the half bottle of wine I’d just worked my way through – but right then and there on the doorstep, just as Vera Lynn nailed her final lines, I gave this man, this complete stranger who had gone through hell and high water to get home for Christmas to make his Grandmother happy, a welcome home hug. And for the first time in a very long time, knowing that I was safely swaddled in this stranger’s house in this peculiar little village, a village protected by mermaids and angels, I didn’t feel alone.

Chapter 36

Juliet

Matthew Wilkins

A note for my Grandson:

I began my story by stating that I would write of love, not war and I hold fast to that statement. But I ask you to remember that we were living in a time when conventional rules of society had all but disappeared. I also ask that you try not to judge me when you read on. Everything you read in the following pages I did for love – not only a love for Edward, but a love for a free world, too, and for all those who had given the ultimate sacrifice.

On with the story we go!

Having said an emotional goodbye to Edward from the haven that had become his little