I will be around for the launch of the fairy tale book and will use it as an excuse to buy several new outfits. I might find an excuse to hang out in Harrogate with you at the crime writing festival too.
Since I’ve been gone, our family home has been sold. It’s a weird feeling, the place where I grew up is no longer somewhere I’ll flock back to. The house, if I’d gone back to it, would be full of ghosts and I don’t know how it would’ve felt to be standing by myself in a building full of only memories with no one to recall them with. Losing them all feels like my anchor has been stolen. I’m now on that boat with nothing to pin me down and whileIvy would’ve loved that sense of freedom, for me it makes my identity feel like a dream.
I’m giving myself eighteen months and then I need to decide where to dock my boat. I need to give myself chance to start a next phase where I can settle and feel that I am where I’m meant to be.
Any move on the house? I think your idea for the lighthouse is really good, by the way, a writers’ getaway, and where’s more romantic that a lighthouse? How’s Ruby’s pregnancy? I don’t think it’s long now until you’re an uncle.
I need all the updates.
Love,
Iris
One Year and Five Months after
Dear Iris,
I am now the proud uncle of a nephew named Elias. He looks exactly like he should, which is a mixture of Finn and Ruby all meshed together. Thankfully, he’s got the good bit of Finn, which we’re all pleased about. I think I’m more obsessed with him than his parents are, which they probably find weird but they’re not complaining about given that I’ve slept on their sofa two nights a week so they can get some sleep. He feeds like a champ and takes a bottle as well as Ruby’s boob (Finn hates me referring to her boobs so I do it all the time), which means she can get some sleep. I can write any time so it makes sense to help them get a decent night’s kip when they can, especially as Mother Bernadette has now gone back home.
I have decided to buy a house on the waterfront and it is the one I mentioned. I did what you suggested and approached the owner directly. It’s exactly what I wanted and I knew assoon as I walked in that it was the right place for me. I can see the lighthouse from the master bedroom and there are floor to ceiling windows which give this amazing view of the Menai Strait.
Thane and I have spoken about the lighthouse and he’s amenable to the writers’ retreat idea. It means it’ll be let all year round, apart from possibly Christmas, which is good as relatives can be holed up there if there’s no room at Amelie’s.
I’ve been spending time at the arch where Ivy liked to be recently. I’m between books so I’ve been working out what to write next and whether I want to try something different – different from crime or writing for children. The weather fairy tales were fun, but I’m not sure I want to do more in that field. I know what will happen – I’ll end up starting another crime fiction series, maybe with something slightly different though.
Your book arrived on my doorstep yesterday. I was expecting a signed copy, given that I’m probably your bestest friend ever, but I guess I’ll have to make do with an ordinary mail ordered one like everyone else.
Not sure I’m going to forgive that any time soon.
However, I haven’t sent you a signed collection of every book by me, so I suppose we’re even.
Looks like we’re both single. I ended things with Sofia. She was more upset than I thought she’d be, asking lots of questions about why and how she thought we were on the same page. I didn’t say much to all her questions apart from I wasn’t feeling it.
It probably sums up why I don’t do relationships. I never thought I’d be very good at them and this has kind of proven it, although Freya said I can’t take one example as being gospel. They’re now trying to set me up with someone else – by them, I mean the new coven – Freya, Ruby, Fleur and Clover. Amelie has the sense not to get involved. I’m just going along with itbecause you never know, and it’s kind of fun, I suppose. It’s giving them something to plot about and making them smile. Plus, I get fussed over which I’m happy to cope with.
I’m in London next week if you want to meet for dinner. I’ll message you to arrange. Then there’s the crime writing festival the week after that.
Love,
Gully
One year and seven months after
Dear Gully,
It’s been strange and amazing to meet you these last couple of weeks. Strange in the best possible way rather than strange in the weird and cross-over-the-road sense. I would usually feel awkward, meeting someone I’ve only seen a couple of times in the past and spending a weekend with them but it didn’t feel like that at all. Maybe it’s because of the letters; maybe it’s because it was you. Maybe it was both but I can honestly say that I’ve had fun these last couple of weekends.
I can also understand why at times you have a big ego.
Do not translate that to the worddickbecause I don’t know anything about your dick, nor do I want to.
There were a lot of other women who did.
My favourite was at one of your panels at Harrogate where one of the questions was asking if you were single and the next was what you were doing afterwards. I don’t think you knew how much hilarity that caused in the audience because the panel chair did an amazing job of controlling everything, but there were definitely people in the audience who were hoping to solve the mystery of what bedroom number you were in.
I hope we can meet up again when you’re in London next. I’ll try to get over to Puffin Bay, but it may be a couple of months and we’ll be into Autumn at that point. This year feels like it’s going so quickly.
Time feels like it’s going so quickly.
