Letters from Skye by Jessica Brockmole Read Free Book Online Page B

1914
    What happened, Sue? I thought we had a deal. Did that ferry prove too much for you? You’re lucky I’m not one to hold agrudge. But you do realize that, at the very least, you owe me an explanation! One that doesn’t involve a ravaging water horse.
    The trip has been great. Harry and I have had years to catch up on. He’s not been the best of correspondents and, you may be surprised to hear, neither have I. You seem to inspire something special that makes me never run out of things to say.
    Harry has got himself a sweetheart, Minna, a demure young lady who writes the most saccharine verse. I met her: very polite but quite flirtatious. She spent half the time discussing the weather and the price of tea in a precise, clipped accent and the other half trying to get Harry alone in the many corners of her parents’ vast house. She’s only eighteen, so no matter how much the rest of his anatomy was telling him otherwise, his head cooled long enough for him to decide not to pop the question just yet. He’s heading back to the States to start medical school and a savings account. In the meantime, he hopes (although not
too
ardently!) that she develops at least one other skill or passion aside from trying to maneuver him into the bedroom at every opportunity. Harry’s not holding his breath that Minna will be faithful, but we drank a toast to her trying anyway.
    The cities we visited were lovely, but, truth to tell, I could’ve been back in Urbana and it would’ve been fine, as long as I was with Harry. Does that sound overly sentimental? He’s started smoking a pipe and writing poetry (is
everyone
a poet these days?). Aside from that, he’s the same old Harry, and we felt like little boys. I’m sure there were some occasions where we acted like little boys too.
    We’re getting ready to board the ship, but I wanted to write so I could mail this before I left Great Britain. I have a fewmore souvenirs to buy before we leave. I asked Florence what she wanted me to bring her back from my trip and she firmly requested an English pony. I don’t think a pony would fit in my stateroom (that’s what I get for sailing second class!), but how could I refuse the wishes of my favorite little girl?
    Harry is going to send one more cable to Minna and has offered to drop this letter by the post office for me, so I’ll close for now. I’ll be looking for a letter full of fervent explanations and humble apologies from you! No more secrets, Sue!
       David
    Isle of Skye
    3 July 1914
    David,
    I must say, I was amazed to get a letter from you so quickly; then I noticed you had mailed it from England, so it didn’t have as far to go as usual.
    You have every right to be angry at me, Davey. We had an agreement. Goodness, you traveled across an ocean to meet me. All I had to do was ferry across the sound.
    What is my excuse, you may rightly ask? My old fear would be a handy one, for sure. But, alas, my fears in this case are sillier, perhaps even a bit more primitive. I’m afraid that, if we meet, the mystery will be gone. We might not get along the way we do on paper. What if our conversation doesn’t flow like this in person?
    You were waiting in St. Mary’s Cathedral to meet an
ideal
of Elspeth Dunn. I didn’t want you to be disappointed with the realthing. What if you thought I was too short? Or too old? Or you didn’t like the sound of my voice? I just want to keep things the way they are, where I’m mysterious and, I hope, interesting.
    I really did intend to come, though. Trust me in that, Davey.
    As long as you think I’m keeping secrets, I have another one. But this one I’ll keep close for a bit, for I know that you won’t be able to stop laughing once you hear.
    Harry sounds like a simply splendid friend. I would say that I hope to meet him someday, but I suppose I can’t do that without meeting you—and we’ve already gone over that!
       Elspeth
    P.S. I truly hope that not everyone has become a poet, else