I stare in disbelief at what I’ve just read. I reread it. After pinching myself to check that I wasn’t dreaming, I read the letter for a third time.
Aunt Polly and Hilary – really?
I wasn’t expecting that. They were more than best friends. I knew they were close, but I never thought it was anything more.
The words in her note sink in.
Hilary broke Aunt Polly’s heart by giving her husband a second chance. She’d put her family first.
I’ve been staring into space for ages. Is this why Aunt Polly has been telling me for years that she doesn’t believe in love any more?
This must have hurt Aunt Polly.
My heart is hammering away inside my chest. I am in shock.
I put the letter back in the envelope and stick it back behind the photo.
Knowing that Hilary hurt my aunt makes me feel sad. I sink into the sofa. What happened between them happened a long time ago, and I need to remember that. My aunt has rebuilt her life and forgotten about Hilary. However, I think back to my aunt in the hospital. The way she kept glancing at the woman who looked like Hilary makes me question whether she is over her.
My mind wanders. I wonder if Hilary and her husband Mike got their second chance. Did Hilary send more letters to my aunt? My breath catches in my throat. The memory of the letters in the baking drawer comes back to me.
There’s no sound from upstairs. She must still be asleep. I open the drawer and reach inside for the pile of letters. They all have an Exeter postmark. My heart starts to thud. I recognise Hilary’s swirly writing.
I take the most recent envelope which is dated a month ago. It’s been opened. I pull out the letter inside. I take a deep breath and read.
Dear Polly,
I have rewritten this letter five or six times. You always teased me about my perfectionism.
The truth is, I think about you a lot.
Mike and I split up again years ago. He moved out. The girls were upset, but I think they have realised I got back with him for the wrong reasons.
Polly, I love you, and I don’t think I have ever stopped loving you.
I have a horrid feeling you will read this letter and throw it away.
I heard through a contact on Facebook that you’ve not been well, and it breaks my heart to think about you being so poorly.
I LOVE YOU, POLLY. ALWAYS HAVE. NEVER STOPPED.
Hilary x
As I read the letter for a second time, I recall what Oliver said about Juliet and love lingering and waiting for years.
I put the letters back in the drawer and decide to talk to Oliver later.
Before I leave for the train, Aunt Polly hands me the car keys for Nigella. ‘Why are you giving me these?’ I ask.
‘I’ve been doing some thinking. That car sits outside my house day in day out. I only use it for the hospital, and you drive it all the time. Also, I think it would be quicker and less hassle for you to drive here on the days you come to visit. What I am saying is, Nelly, take Nigella and put her to good use.’
This is a generous offer, but Nigella is problematic at the best of times, and I think she will cause more hassle than the train. ‘It’s okay, you keep her here.’
My aunt shakes her head. ‘Please, Nelly, it would make me happy.’
I silently let out a groan. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Nigella will be excited at the prospect of spending more time with you.’
