loved her.
Ivan most of all.
Finally, Jonny looked across at Gabriel, who straightened his tie and approached the lectern.
Marla couldn’t take her eyes off him. She hadn’t allowed herself to so much as glance in his direction over the last four weeks; having him here was torture. It seemed that she was destined for famine or feast where he was concerned, and neither option did anything to settle her stomach.
He glanced her way and held her gaze for a second that might have been an hour, and in that moment she felt sure that everyone in the building knew they’d had sex. She dropped her eyes to her patent black Mary Janes to minimize the number of people that would see her scarlet cheeks.
‘Ivan has asked me to speak on his behalf this afternoon,’ Gabe began, and his beautiful accent pulled her eyes like magnets back to his face.
‘It’s my honour and my pleasure, because Dora was one in a million. She made my move here so much easier with her simple kindnesses, her endless supplies of biscuits and her no-nonsense advice.’
He smiled sadly.
‘She was funny, and she was kind. A true friend, and I will miss her immeasurably.’
He paused, and he reached inside his jacket for Ivan’s speech.
‘Okay, so over to Ivan.’
He bowed his head towards Ivan on the front row, and then began to read.
‘It was raining the day I met Dora. October sixth, 1939. She was just fifteen but already very beautiful, like a young Rita Hayworth, she was. All the other girls were huddled together under the eves of the youth club, but my Dora just twirled and lifted her face up to the rain.
That was it, she was the girl for me and I didn’t waste any time in telling her so.
Then the war came along and everything changed – everything apart from Dora, that is. Her letters kept me alive through times when I could have easily lain down and died. I was determined to get home to my girl.’
Gabe paused as Ivan wiped his eyes with his huge white handkerchief and held up a shaky hand to still him. He turned to Marla and handed her an envelope.
‘I reckon my Dora would have liked you to read this out now.’
Marla nodded as she looked at the frail envelope with tear-filled eyes.
She joined Gabe at the lectern, and he stepped aside to allow her centre stage.
Marla drew strength from the sad smile of gratitude on Ivan’s face.
‘Ivan has asked me to read this letter to you all.’
She eased the notepaper from its envelope.
‘It’s dated August, 1944.’
Her throat burned as she scanned the letter quickly, and she took a moment to compose herself. She needed to do Dora justice. Both the elderly lady she’d known and loved, and the hopeful young newly-wed with a full heart and a primrose dress.
‘Dearest Ivan,
It was such a wrench to leave you at the station last weekend, although by the time this letter finds you it will probably be more like three weeks ago. Maybe even more. How I wish that you were not so far away from me, my darling. I keep looking down at my hand to make sure that my wedding ring is still there and I haven’t dreamt that I am actually your wife!
Wasn’t it just the most marvellous day?
You looked terribly handsome in your uniform, I really thought I might actually die of happiness when I saw you waiting for me at the altar.
I have to go now as I’m expected at the factory in an hour, but whenever you read this, remember that you are always my first and last thought each day.
All my prayers are that you will come home safely to me.
Your loving wife,
Dora.’
Silence fell over the congregation as Marla folded the letter and returned it to its envelope with trembling fingers. Gabe stepped closer, and the warmth of his hand against the small of her back made her long to turn into the safety of his arms.
‘Well done. You did Dora proud,’ he murmured against her hair, then propelled her lightly back towards her seat between Ivan and her mother. The old man patted her hand and nodded as he tucked Dora’s letter back inside his jacket.
At the lectern, Gabe cleared his throat and glanced down at the paper in his hand to complete Ivan’s speech.
‘I was the proudest man alive the day Dora married me. We were never lucky enough to be blessed with children, so she’s been my everything