It’s a good thing I’m not in London any time soon else I’d likely hunt Theo down and remove his balls, possibly making him swallow them whole so he doesn’t pass his god-awful genes down to some poor kid.
You’ve had a narrow escape. Count your lucky stars.
I’m going to change the subject. Freya’s had the baby. It’s a little girl they’ve called Calla. They’re both doing well – our mam’s over and helping out, which Freya’s happier about than Roe. He’s gone into full on protector mode and isn’t happy with anyone holding Calla apart from him or Freya, which everyone’s finding hilarious.
I also think Ruby’s pregnant again – so this will be baby number three. Elias and Elsie are doing really well. They’re both placid and like playing together, so I think she’s assuming the third will be the same but who knows. I think we’ll hear in the next few weeks if she is and it’s just a gut feeling I have, plus Finn mentioning something about having them all close together inage so they don’t have to wait as long to go on that trip they had planned before Ruby found out she was pregnant with Elias.
Amelie and Roman are getting married at the church on top of the cliff where we had Ivy’s funeral. They’ve opted for September twenty-first because the tourist season will be slowing down by then, but the weather should still be kind – although that depends on the day. Roman’s planning a stag do and I think Amelie’s having some sort of hen do in London, which means the men will be left for a weekend looking after the kids in Puffin Bay. They’re more than capable of looking after their own children, but not to the standards of their women, so it could be an interesting Sunday evening when everyone gets back. That’s happening next weekend.
Mavis is a little better with her cough. She’s been out and about more too so I’m not as worried – not that I let her know that because she wouldn’t have thanked me for it. I’ve let her son know she seems better. He’s been coming to visit her more which is one really good thing.
I know you’ll be okay. I know you’ll get everything you ever dreamed of too.
You just might not have had those dreams yet.
Love you,
Gully
One Year Nine Months after New Orleans
Dear Gully,
It’s New Year’s Day. I’m in Paris having spent an amazingly decadent New Year’s with lots of the people I’ve worked with this year and we’ve had fun and laughs, good food and I believe the champagne was good, because I didn’t partake.
I’ve been thinking and I’ve wanted a clear head. I spent yesterday afternoon walking by the Seine for hours, taking in the sites and the people and taking photos because I can’t not do that.
I don’t have any money worries. I have an established reputation and this last year has meant I can pick and choose which jobs I accept. I can indulge myself with passion projects and know they’ll be considered well.
I know what I want.
But I need to ask you a favour.
I don’t want to use a random sperm donor. I want my baby to know their father, to know about their aunt, to have a family and cousins and that safety we’ve talked about so much.
Would you consider being my baby’s father?
It’s a huge ask, I know and a commitment that you’ll have for the rest of your life. I’d be in your life too, but I was hoping that would always be the case anyway because you are my best friend, even though we don’t see each other every day or even every month.
I could write more to try to persuade you that this is a good idea and tell you why I think you should do this, but that wouldn’t be fair on any of us. You have to make your own decision on this.
We’ll still be friends if you say no.
We’ll still be friends if you say maybe and you need more time to think about it.
We’ll still be friends if you say yes.
I could tell you more about Paris and the people I’ve seen in the last few days. I could tell you about Prague and Vienna and Budapest and all the places I’ve been in the last few months but it isn’t about where we travel.
It’s about what we bring home.
Love you, whatever you decide.
Iris
Dear Iris,
I think it’s time you came to Puffin Bay.
