It Started With A Note. Victoria Cooke

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      ‘Ahh that’s a shame. We’ve already been to Ypres on this tour, in fact we’re almost done with the war trips for now.’ I’m relieved his attention is focused on the trip, and not the alone part.

      ‘It’s okay. Without wanting to sound ungrateful, I think it’s somewhere I should probably visit by myself.’ He nods knowingly as more people start filing onto the bus.

      Our first stop is the museum at Albert. While Cynthia and Martha natter the whole way around about what they might buy from the gift shop, Roland and Harry are as engrossed in the fascinating exhibits as I am as we follow the journey of a real soldier from a card we were handed at the reception. The gas masks, the weaponry, the life and fears of everyday people are all completely unimaginable.

      The tour ends with a sound and light display, giving me a taste of what life might have been like during the night-time shelling that decimated the trenches on the front line. With each ear-splitting explosive bang, I flinch. It’s hard to imagine how my great-grandfather and millions of other men lived this way, not knowing if the next one would hit him or a fellow comrade. I close my eyes. I’m sheltering as the bombs drop and the guns fire whilst praying for survival. I become aware of my heart racing.

      ‘Are you all right Cath?’ Harry puts his hand on my shoulder and I nod.

      ‘I’ll catch you up,’ I say as they make their way outside.

      I rub my thumb across the card I’d been given at reception. I bet being out there was quite lonely really. Despite the camaraderie and brotherhood within the regiments, these men were expecting to die and death itself is the most solitary event in a person’s life because once your eyes close and you start to fade away, it’s just you versus the unknown. Complete loneliness.

      I imagine the smell of death, the sight of it, and the fear of it would be lonely too, because the feelings are so visceral, how could they be put into words? Something that deep is more a state of being and that’s a loneliness like no other. It’s not just having nobody to chat over breakfast with. It puts my first day in Le Havre into perspective, that’s for sure.

      The exit takes me out into a garden, the equanimity of which contrasts starkly with the underground depiction of hell I’ve just emerged from. In a way, it’s symbolic really because tranquillity and peace were built upon the sacrifices and horror of war shown below. Yin and Yang.

      I stop to sit on a wall and admire a statue in the garden. ‘It’s a cliché but life really is short,’ Martha says, sitting down next to me.

      ‘I know. Deep down, that’s probably one of the reasons I took this trip,’ I say honestly. It hadn’t escaped me that my life had become stuck in a bit of a rut for the last ten years or so and the fact it took Gary of all people to push me to do something different is quite sad really.

      ‘I don’t have much advice to offer the younger folk these days, but all that seize the day stuff is spot on. Life really does pass you by if you’re not careful. Anyway, I’m a bumbling old fool and I need to go pee.’ She uses my shoulder for support as she eases her way back up to her feet and then she’s off again, leaving just her words and the scent of lavender lingering behind.

      We have an hour to explore the town. While the others disappear off to the café, gift shop, or to walk around the town, I just sit for a moment, looking out over the river. I take out the second letter I have from my great-grandfather.

       17th December 1915

       My dearest Elizabeth,

       We’ve reached the camp safely. It’s enormous! We could see it as soon as we stepped off the train as it covers the whole hillside. We’ve been shown kit and read the regulations. On the walk over to the training ground yesterday I saw the sand and sea, though it’s freezing. I’m developing a taste for bully beef stew.

       All my love to you and Rose.

       Will

      I wasn’t able to find out where the training camp was with such little to go off and that saddens me somewhat. Putting the letter away, I notice my phone screen is lit up.

      There’s a message from Gary.

       Read some of those poems. Bit sombre eh? The leccy metre has run out. Do you have any money on your card?

      ‘Grrr.’ I grit my teeth. Can’t he put some money on it for a change?

      I’d emptied the tin in the kitchen so he can’t raid that, but I do contemplate telling him about my secret emergency stash of pound coins under my bed. I think better of it.

       No, sorry. You’ll have to dip into your beer money x

      I smirk a little bit as I hit send. There’s a first time for everything.

      Another message pops in from Kaitlynn. I must have just picked up a signal or something.

       How is it? Are you okay? Is the hotel nice? Did you find your GG’s grave yet? Work is hell – can we move to France? I’d rather eat frogs’ legs than work here xxxxx

       Always the drama queen.

      Martha and Harry are sitting on a bench outside the front of the museum, eating chocolate éclairs. The heat from the sun burns through my T-shirt, which feels odd because I hadn’t expected it to be quite so warm in France.

      ‘Those look good,’ I say when I’m close enough.

      ‘Mmm.’ Martha nods while licking her lips. ‘I can definitely recommend them.’

      ‘Go and get one – the patisserie is right there,’ Harry says, pointing to a shop with a big blue canopy on the corner.

      ‘Hmm, well, if you insist,’ I say playfully.

      I return a short while later with my own in a paper bag. ‘Here, saved you a seat,’ Harry says, patting the bench beside him as I approach. I sit down, unable to speak because I’ve just taken a delicious bite. ‘Now I’m the envy of the town, what with two beautiful ladies by my side.’ He chuckles while Martha just shakes her head.

      ‘You old fool,’ she says, and then smiles at him. I can’t help but notice her eyes sparkle a little as they lock on his, and my tummy knots a bit, taking me by surprise. I don’t suppose I’ve ever witnessed real-life love like this before. I’ve been alone a long time, and it doesn’t bother me at all, but since Kieran left and Gary moved in, I suppose I’ve subconsciously wondered if this is all life has in store for me. Working to make ends meet and coming home to start all over again for someone who doesn’t really appreciate me. I suppose, soon, it will be just me and I’m not sure if that will be better or worse.

      I notice Martha leaning forward so that she can see me around Harry, and I hope I haven’t zoned out again, missing what she had to say. I relax when I notice her mouth is full of the last piece of her éclair.

      ‘You and Olivier seemed to hit it off quite well last night,’ she says after she swallows.

      ‘He seems like a very nice man,’ I reply diplomatically.

      ‘Oh, СКАЧАТЬ