28. Surprises (1/2)

chapter xxvii

dear juliet,

jesus, mary and joseph, you and blythe are engaged! to each other! this is just the craziest thing i have ever heard in my life! i congratulate you both of course, don't get me wrong, i couldn't be any happier really, i love you both so much and just wish you all of the happiness in the world. i have never thought that you two will eventually end up together, and apparently neither did our family. we all thought that, after all, blythe will marry cornelia and you would find yourself a handsome soldier somewhere in this rouen of yours.

but i'm glad that you two love each other as deeply as you wrote you do. i can't even think about blythe not being able to walk again, it's impossible i'm telling you, he's so happy (he wrote me a long letter, you know) i'm sure that he will stand up from his wheelchair and take you in his loving arms!

sheba, when your parents told us the news from the telegram that you sent, your mother trembled to hold back her tears, she knew how much it meant to you, and your father's voice was so moving i got goose bumps. aunt rilla said: "my blythe? a husband to jem's-girl… why didn't i think of ot earlier?" and everyone laughed of course. grandpa meredith felt better again (you know he still feels quite weak after his long illness) and he laughed with us. grandmother blythe had a "sense of dreaminess" as you call it, all day that day. even my little jackie kept asking me: "who's getting married, mummy?".

well, as you probably noticed by now, i am positively thrilled for you and blythe, of course. i always thought you two were meant for each other and this only proves me right, doesn't it? anyway, dearest of all bathsheba, i wish you a very happy new year of 1945, and hopefully it will

ing you joy, happiness and the shining wedding bells.

i have to go now and help mother with the cooking.

take care darling,

always yours,

anna rosemary richardson (your old rose)

p.s. you ask me about my john; he is perfectly fine, thank you. and he told me in his last letter that he thinks that the war is going to an end. we all hope so, and we all pray every night for this to happen.

dear julia,

you've probably heard it millions of times now, but i will say it anyway; congratulations on your engagement with blythe! i can't believe that you two will really be married, i won't say that i never failed in hoping that you will especially after so many years of you almost crying out for him to be heard. i am really, really glad and i wish you all the best in the world, especially because it's the very first day of new year already. and new years' are for wishing each other things, aren't they?

i have some news to tell you. very happy news to be precise; lewis and i are expecting our first baby. yes, i am pregnant and couldn't feel more wonderful about it. lewis is simply over the moon and can't stop talking about it. grandmama is pleased, at last, and even made herself to congratulate us. i am due in july this year, and i already bought a sweet little cot for my baby, lewis thinks that i'm "positively impossible" by buying it so quickly but i can't resist it (you'll know it soon enough!).

well, i'm afraid it's the last thing i have to tell you, and besides i really do have to get back to preparing dinner for lewis, he will be home in an hour.

i do hope that you're still safe out there, near the rouen?

make sure to write to me as often as you possibly can.

yours,

claire anderson

the war was going slowly to an end and everyone in the small military camp in rouen could feel it and sense it. julia and olive were now nursing with wide smiles on their faces, counting days till the end of each month, thinking that the war could end at anytime, and so they could start the countdown.

niall still had lots to do around the camp but was still spending every evening together with julia and olive. many years later they would all reflect on the first months of 1945 thinking of them as "the time of their lives" because of their joking, singing and dancing together day by day, welcoming each day with excitement and joy, like they always did but before the war started.

"do you think that there really is a difference between the french girls and the english girls?" olive asked on one warm afternoon in the first days of fe

uary.

"what do you mean?" julia asked her curiously.

"i mean that there are so many people talking about the french girls and how beautiful they are. do you really think that there's a difference?" she asked looking at both julia and niall sitting opposite to her.

julia and niall chuckled together "i don't think there is." julia said honestly.

"well, i heard that the french girls have got different facial features, or whatever you call them these days." niall said and smiled at the two of his friends.

olive giggled "yes, that's what i think. but do you think they are prettier than us, the english girls?" olive asked niall pointing at her and julia meaningfully.

"why are you asking me?" he asked her, trying to hide his smile.

"because you're a man." olive rolled her eyes, making both of her friends laugh again.

"in my opinion, if the girl is beautiful, there's no difference whether she is english or french or spanish." he replied.

"just like a man." julia and olive said in the same moment and laughed together, looking how niall's cheeks turned positively pink. before they knew it, the famous all over their camp, mrs tate appeared next to their table in the canteen with a small envelope in her hand.

"telegram for you, nurse blythe." she said sternly and handed her the telegram slowly.

the smile from julia's face was gone and her eyes were focused only on the small peace of paper she took from mrs tate's hand. she gulped, and could feel the eyes of olive, niall and mrs tate looking straight at her, to see whether the news are good or bad. julia opened up the telegram and read it outloud: "there was a gas-shell explosion in our trench. i'm fine but merry is blinded. - jake."

olive gasped, niall put his hand on julia's shaking shoulder and mrs tate whispered: "at least he's alive, dear."

"but he can't see. and he never will." she whispered back.

dearest sister,

i asked the nurse to write this letter to you, while i will be telling her exactly what to write. don't worry about me, jules. it is hard to get used to not being able to see anything for the rest of your life again, but i am so enormously happy that i don't have to go back to the trenches again! i think that i'm coping with my blindness just fine, and even the nurses think that i am too happy with the knowledge that i'm not ever going to see again.

at least, the good thing is that i won't ever see how my face will look like with all its wrinkles when i'll be old and grumpy. the only thing i actually am concerned about is that i'm not sure what i will do with myself when i come back home. i want to get married, believe it or not, and i do want to work on a farm but how can i do that when i can't see if i'm even holding the right thing in my hand? father sent me a letter and he suggested working with poeple and talking to them, solving their problems, maybe even about farming, something of a 'manager' as he called it, and i would love to try that but… what if it won't work?