marry an older man, a wealthy grocer, and they would all three be moving to Scotland. She ended the letter with the words, ‘you know me, John, Im not so romantic as some people. Not so’s it would mean me losing my mum. Life is hard and I have to be pratical and see to her no matter how it hurts me and does things to me. Arthur has found her a nursing home in a place where the air is good for her lungs and away from the bombs. Hes going to pay for her keep and buy us a cotage near to it. Hes a good man, though you will probably not think it and hate him.’ The letter ended with more protestations, with a short description of the true state of her heart, and with several calls for forgiveness. Then it bluntly asked him to forget her and find another more worthy of his love. ‘It wont be the same with Arthur but he cares for me and I cant do nothing else really. You do see what Im saying John? Please dont hate me for ever.’
Many of the words in the letter were blotched, no doubt by tears. Susan had been weeping when she wrote it.
Chloe blinked away the moisture in her own eyes after reading the letter, though deep down she wondered how Mr Grantham could possibly fall in love with someone whose grammar and spelling were so atrocious. But that was just Chloe. The love of her life would have to be perfect, but that didn’t mean others necessarily needed to have the same standards.
‘Well,’ said an obviouslyunimpressed Jordy, ‘she certainly dumped him all right, didn’t she?’
Alex asked in a solemn voice, ‘Is there an exact date on the letter? It might help with the stamp, you see. The franking’s a bit smudged.’
‘You two have no souls,’ complained Chloe, folding the letter and handing it back to Alex.
‘Oh, come on, Clo,’ cried Jordy. ‘It was half a century ago.’
‘Love is eternal.’
‘Yuk!’ said Alex, stuffing the letter in his jeans pocket. ‘Anyway, why’d she marry this other bloke to pay for her mother’s doctors? National Health’s free.’
‘There was no such thing then,’ Chloe said. ‘No National Health. You had to pay for medical treatment in those days.’
Chloe turned from her brothers and gathered up the photos, putting them in her bag. Then the three sat down to talk of their plans. There was a massive mountain of weapons in front of them, which was going to be difficult to cross. Jordy suggested that one of them – he meant himself – should do ‘a reccy’ first, before all three of them went any further.
‘I’ll go and see how hard it’s going to be. You two stay here in the village and wait for me.’ He scanned the distance. ‘Shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘I don’t like us splitting up,’ stated Chloe emphatically. ‘Anything could happen.’
‘We’re not splitting up. I’m just going to scout ahead. Look, it makes sense for you to stay here, near to food and water. There’s some old hydro-whatsit beds at the back of the village and their supply tank is nearby. You’ll be fine until I get back.’
‘We’ll be fine,’ said Alex, ‘but what about you?’
Jordy let out a hollowlaugh. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about me – I’ll be all right.’
He took Chloe’s water bottle and some food. Then he set out before there could be any more arguments. They watched him go, until he had climbed the mound of footstools. Once, an antique stool slid from under his heel and he almost went flying downwards. Another time he stepped on a satin-covered affair and his foot went right through it, making him scrape his knee. But eventually he reached the top of the hill where he turned and waved, to show them he was all right.
‘We ought to pick up the next set of binoculars we find,’ murmured Alex. ‘They’d be useful.’
The two remaining children spent a desultory morning, mooching about, doing nothing in particular. Evening finally came, the light fading from the skylight windows above. The yellowed boards