Love Letter

Apologies

March 25th....

Dearest Alison , I am so sorry!!

It's been far too long since I wrote. The month just flew by in a haze of scripts and promo interviews, and before I knew it, here we are! I am so sorry darling, can you forgive me?

Assuming you've not scrumpled this up and thrown it into the fire, and who would blame you if you had, let's press on.

I'm not sure if I should ask, just in case I finish off what little of our fledgling friendship remains, but how did your scan go love? Please dont be afraid to tell me to go to hell, but I really do want to be there for you.

So, you want to know about my week? Hmmm, where to begin. Well, I've got a new script in development. Not that I can really talk about it, but I think you'll be surprised. It's a bit of a diversion from my usual. Big horror writer. Not big horror story, though. As I can share, I will, I promise.

Bobby was a devil this week. Tried to chat up the lady spaniel up the road. Seems we're now both in the dog house! Oh, well. Maybe Bobby will get forgiveness.

He deserves it.

Me? I'm not so sure.

Talking of dog house... train of thought. Have you seen I Saw The Light? Tell me honestly, what did you think? The singing scared the absolute crap out of me, but hey, if you don't try, eh? I only ask because it's a bit of an achillies heel for me. It's still a bit raw that it didn't do better. Anyhow, onwards and upwards.....

I seem to remember you asking my favourite Shakespeare character... well, at the moment I'm sitting, finger sealing my lips. Like a little boy keeping a secret, because.... I'm not telling. It would be like picking between children. Do YOU think I have one????

Listen, Alison, there's something I have to ask. I'm not trying to pry, and I know it should make no odds, but would you send me a picture? You - obviously - know what I look like, you poor woman, but me? I have no mental image, no smiling face to talk to.

Can I guess first, though? Please, dont hit me!!!

You said you remember swapshop. You said you like cake - and I quote, "Maybe a little too much."
So, from these, I deduce you're a 40-year-old weeble. Remember them? Wobble, but dont fall down?

Ok, that was rude, but if I'm right, you laughed, yes?

I don't actually care - in the best possible way, love - what you look like. I just would like to know. So that when we meet, and one day we will, you dont have to be the one wearing the red carnation! 

Ok, time to go, just before I do? What's this......

And sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller, long I stood.
And looked down one, as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth.....

Please forgive me, Ali, for being so tardy with my letter. Next time? I promise , Scout's honour, to reply by return.

Take care,
Tom xxx

Ps you're blonde and about.....5'4" ????

He sat back and held the sheet at arms length. Somehow, it seemed so inadequate. The apology, the attempt at moving from polite chit chat to a more personal level.  He'd always prided himself on his mastery of language. Until now.

Now? Now, he was a tongue-tied teenager. Now, he took hours to think of things he would have rattled off in minutes. In the space of a few letters, Alison had become someone more important than the few letters would have suggested.

As he reread the letter, making sure he'd not made any quite literally schoolboy errors, he stopped and bit his lip. He'd unconsciously shortened her name to Ali. That was rude. Some people hated that. It was also the benefit of a letter.

Taking his pen, he scored through 'Ali' and squeezed 'Alison' in its place.  Nodding, he folded the pages and put them in the envelope. 

He laid the open envelope on the desk and sat back again.  Popping a mint into his mouth from the open packet on his desk, he looked out the window for a minute.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a petite brunette poked her head round. "Helloooooo! How's you?" The head was followed by a body that proceeded to thump itself into the chair opposite him.

"Emma? What are you doing here?" He looked up in shock. "How did you...."

"Darling Thomas, you gave me a key? Said I could drop by whenever I was in town?" She swung her legs over the edge of the chair, leaning forward to try and nosy at the letter. "Whatcha dooooin?"

Tom snatched the letter up and stuffed it into his pocket. "Nothing." He said defensively, suddenly realising he didn't want to share Alison with his sister. Not yet.

"Doesn't look like nothing!" She was suddenly very, VERY curious. Tom blushing and hiding something? He hadn't done that since he wrote that love letter when he was thirteen. She sat bolt upright, a huge grin on her face. "It's a GIRL!"

"ITS NOT!" he bit back. Technically, Alison was a woman, so....

"Oh yes, it is!! Tommy's got a girlfriend. Tommy's got a girlfriend!" Emma crowed and jumped up, "who is she? What's her name? Is she famous? Do I know her?"

Tom stood and grabbed her round the waist from behind, pinning her arms to her side as he had when trying to subdue his annoying sibling all their lives. "Quiet, you horrible child.  Alison is not my girlfriend. We write to each other. She is lonely and afraid, and I cheer her up. I think. I dont even know what she looks like."

Emma quietened enough for her to be released. As Tom took a step back, she smiled. "I'm going to put the kettle on.  You can tell me everything you don't know about her over a cuppa and a hobnob or six." She almost skipped to the door and disappeared to the kitchen.

As she wandered down the hall, all he could hear was a sing song, "Tom and Ali up a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Tom sat back down and shook his head, smiling. Emma was incorrigible. If jumping to conclusions was an Olympic sport, she'd have a gold medal.

Pulling the slightly battered envelope out of his pocket, he smiled. In a spur of the moment idea, he slipped a mint into the envelope and then sealed it.

As he heard Emma come back up the hall with the tea, he put it back in his pocket. After tea, interrogation, and hobnobs, he'd post it. 

No, he told himself, she definitely wasn't his girlfriend............?