CHAPTER 53
“Wow,” Ash said, looking down at the letters and wiping the tears away that were running down her face.
“Wow,” Emelia, who had just been introduced to me as Ash’s girlfriend, also said. We were all sitting around the table in the kitchen, drinking cups of warm tea and eating biscuits.
Ash looked up at me, wide-eyed, and I wondered if she was going to be as angry with me as her brother was. “Wow,” she simply said again.
“They’re amazing letters,” Mike added.
“It’s not just the letters, though,” Ash said, and Emelia nodded.
“It’s not?” I asked.
“This whole story!” She threw her arms in the air. “What . . .WHATare the chances? That you, living over five hours away, in the city, find a bag at a shop, get stuck in a lift, find these letters, find this town, come here and accidentally check into the very hotel that used to be the home of the person in the letters, and then you find her diary. It’s as if this was meant to happen. There is no other explanation for it. It’s as if Gran is reaching out from beyond the grave and making this all happen.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Mike asked.
“How else do you explain it all?” Ash looked at her brother. “The alternative is that this is all some massive coincidence. No.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.” She turned and pointed her finger at me. “You were meant to find these. You were meant to come here, find us and tell this story.” She sat back in the chair and exhaled, and then tears came to her eyes. Emelia put her hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“How did her bag get to Jo’burg?” Mike asked.
“I took some of her things to the charity shop in town, including the bag,” Ash said.
“Someone must have bought it and then decided they didn’t like it,” I added. “They must have taken it to the shop I went to.”
“I can’t believe this whole thing.” Ash put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her arms for a while. “I knew it, though.”
“Knew what?” I asked.
“I knew there was something about you.” She looked up at me. “Besides, I knew a cat couldn’t crap in a toilet and flush it!”
“What?” Mike asked.
I hung my head a little as Mike looked over at me.
“Didn’t you know? She pretended to have a cat, when she checked in. Told me she had trained it to use the toilet, that’s why she didn’t have a litter box with her.”
Emelia burst out laughing. “I can see why you’re a writer,” she said.
Ash smiled at me. “I should have seen it. You didn’t seem like a cat person.” She looked at me for the longest time, as if deciding whether or not to like me again. I guess she decided that she did, because she gave me another smile.
“Do you know how sad this is?” She held a letter up. “Do you know how awful this is, that they were not allowed to love each other because of the color of their skin? Gran went through her whole life loving someone that she could never be with . . . right up until the day she died. She loved him until her last breath, in this house.” Her words spilled into the room and the profound weight of them made us all silent. “Do you think she ever loved Grandpa?” Ash looked up at Mike.
“I’m sure she loved him in some way. They had children together and shared a whole life together.”
“I guess there are different kinds of love,” Ash offered. “But I don’t think she loved him like she loved this guy from the letters.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think many people get to love like that.” I pulled one of the letters towards me and felt compelled to read it out loud.
3 January, 1949
Dear Edith,
I still remember the first time I met you. It was just after three o’clock—I remember this because the church clock had just struck. The sky was overcast, it looked like it was going to storm and I remember thinking that there was a strange energy in the sky. You know, the kind of energy the sky gets just before a lightning storm, as if everything in it feels alive, as if everything is standing to attention, waiting for something great to happen. There is an anticipation in the air, a kind of invisible fire that you can feel, but you can’t see. And I remember thinking that I was waiting for something to happen, waiting for something special, but I didn’t know what it was.
I looked around, and at first I didn’t see anything, but then you appeared. You were running, as if you were late for something. I didn’t know what you were running towards, but I remember thinking that it had to be important. I watched you closely when you came to the fork in the road. You looked down the left fork and then you looked up the hill. I knew what you were thinking: short cut up and over the hill, or take the long way. I smiled; I knew which way you were going to choose before you did, because I could see what kind of person you were. You were going to take the short cut up the hill. It’s harder, there is a fence to climb over and a steep slope, but I could see you were an adventure seeker. Most people take the easy way, but not you. And I was right, because suddenly you were running up the hill. I watched you carefully. I could see you weren’t a runner. You were out of breath and covered in sweat, and this made me smile. Because someone as unfit as you should probably take the easy way, but you didn’t! I liked that a lot. I admired it and it made me think that you were different from any of the other girls around town. But then you tried to climb over that fence! To be honest, I didn’t think you were going to make it. But you were so determined. I watched you struggle up it and slip a few times, but you never gave up. I remember thinking to myself that this was what I’d been waiting for. For some strange reason, I had been there at that exact moment because I was waiting for you. I didn’t really understand that thought at first, but, looking back on it now, looking back on that moment a year later, I know what it all means.
You slipped and fell—remember that? You fell on your back and, for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You’d winded yourself and you looked so panicked, and that’s when I ran up to you. Do you remember what I said to you then, when I took your hands in mine? I told you to be calm, be patient and the air would come. You would be able to breathe soon, you just had to hold on for a second longer and the air would come.
