Iris
One year and three months after.
Dear Iris,
I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written to you. I know you can see what I’m posting on socials – especially the private accounts which is good, because it’s my publicist who picks up the others. I saw you on TV last week (which you’ll know because you saw my comment on your post) about the project in Alaska. It’s getting so much attention already. I didn’t realise you were keeping a diary as well – a video diary. You didn’t mention that.
What’s happened with you and Jonas? Are you trying to keep it going despite the distance or is it about the right time and place?
I’m still seeing Sofia. She hasn’t spent much time with my brothers yet and I don’t know if this is for her benefit or mine. Part of me’s worried they’ll scare her off, because she is on the classy side and she’s used to fine dining and dressing up, whereas Finn and Roe would prefer fish and chips on the beach.Another part is that, I don’t know. I’m not sure she’s right for me or I’m right for her – although that’s her decision to make.
We had a conversation about finances the other day, just a random one. She’s very much into investing and not being careful with money, but she likes buying statement pieces. She drives a sports car that cost a lot, and her apartment looks like it’s been furnished by an interior decorator with nothing in there that’s sentimental. Don’t get me wrong, my cousin Ava’s an interior designer, so is Fleur who’s Thane’s partner, and I totally get why someone like Roe would need help working out what furniture to have else he’d have a battered sofa and a desk and that’s it – with a mattress on the floor. But Sofia’s place was styled in a way that wasn’t comfy. I didn’t want to sit on the sofa in case I had dirt on my jeans and my jeans definitely didn’t go with aesthetic.
So I don’t know.
She keeps talking about when I move out of the lighthouse – she won’t stay there with me, which I don’t mind as much as I thought – because it scares her, the sounds of the tide and the waves when they crash against it. There can be times when it’s inaccessible too, which I don’t mind because it’s when I have chance to do nothing but write and there is a way to get onto the mainland if there was an emergency – call Thane.
I’ve read back what I’ve written and I think it’s time to call it a day. It’s been just a few months and I’m not comfortable.
Back to you. Or toClimbing Ivy. The stories are finished. The editor’s pleased and the illustrations are nearly done. We’re on for a launch just before Christmas, with copies being given to children at Great Ormond Street Hospital, so this is me asking before anyone else does, would you come with me for that?
A few other crime writers have contacted me wanting to do an anthology where the proceeds go to the fund as well, so we’re going ahead with that as long as you don’t have objections,and I think there’s talk of something here to coincide with the anniversary of Ivy’s death next year to raise money for the fund and the lifeboat too. More to come on that. I know Clover’s looking at organising something literary in the town – some reader/author event. There are lots of ideas.
People like a purpose.
I do. I’ve been writing more than I’ve ever done before, finishing the latest book in around half the time it normally takes. I’ve found focus from somewhere which I’m not complaining about.
I’m looking forward to hearing from you.
I hope you still want to write.
Love,
Gully
One Year and Four Months After
Dear Gully,
Of course I still want to write. I was, when I wrote that first letter, completely embarrassed about how poor my handwriting was. When I was at school my handwriting was passable at worst, and at best looked like an art form. That first letter looked like a spider had jumped in a pot of ink and then had a party on the paper.
You may have noticed I’ve upgraded the quality of my pen. I decided to splash out and buy myself a fountain pen again and some better quality writing paper, so you could say I’m invested in this relationship.
More so than my relationship with Jonas.
I left feeling heartsore, not going to lie. We’d gotten on fantastically and the sex – it’s fine to write this, I wouldn’t say itto your face – was the best I’ve ever had. For forty-eight hours after leaving I was certain I’d made a mistake so I went back.
Obviously, Jonas was still in town. He’s never going anywhere. But he wasn’t pining after me.
I’d been replaced quickly by a research scientist who’s based there for the summer months, something I discovered when I saw them all over each other in a café. He didn’t see me, but Mari, the waitress did.
“Ah, darlin’,” she said. “This is how he rolls. New season, new girl.”
I ordered coffee to take away and headed back on the road. I got home – back to London – about two days ago, so you should get this a couple of days after I’ve posted it.
To be honest, Jonas and I would never have worked out. I’m not the main character of a romance story; things like that don’t happen to me. Plus, he wanted kids and I can’t have them, so it was never going to have a future, although I’m not sure how much I believe now.
So it’s back to London for a few months. I’m here until September, then I’m heading to Berlin for a project with women who used to be models. There will be some big names there, both model and photographer wise, so I’m excited about it.
