Sandra Borchert - Five years - that's all we got

At first I was living with my mother and commuted between London and Oxford. But then I found employment at a local photographer and was able to rent a small flat in Oxford. At that point I did not qualify for any scholarship.

Far away from the destroyed London I could start a new life and flourished right away. I befriended some other girls at the University. We were quite the pride. We studied together, went swimming and dancing.

Dancing has always been my passion. My mother had taught me how to. Before she married my father my mother had been a dancing instructor. Many times I had watched them through the keyhole at night holding each other tightly to the music.

Nights with my friends usually meant we needed new shoes the next day, because we danced through our old ones. Most times we spent the night at my place and talked until the early morning hours. We talked about everything that came to our mind. Yes, even about boys. Of course boys were the hot topic even then. But at that time it was not about sex. It was more about getting married and starting a family. Nevertheless I did not want to get married soon. I wanted to enjoy my youth, work and travel a lot. Even though during my childhood we often moved from camp to camp I had never the chance to visit any place outside of England. I often had the desire to visit foreign places and dreamed of Paris, Rome and even New York. Usually my dreams were rudely interrupted by the alarm bell which mercilessly rang every morning.

This was also the case on that particular sunday. As an exception I had promised my boss to develop some important photos for a newspaper. It was summer and in the morning already so warm that I would have loved to go to work in my underwear. On my way to work I purchased some rolls and jam in case we got hungry.

I was more than surprised when I realized that my boss was not in the shop. Instead of him someone else opened the door for me. A young man, maybe six or seven years older than me. He looked at me with his big blue eyes: “Oh, good morning! Please come in!“ He closed the door behind me. „Please excuse the mess. I could not find the photo paper. Oh and by the way, my name is Phillip. I am the substitute. You must be Lucy. Glad to meet you. Unfortunately, I was not told where all the things were to be found. Maybe you can help me?" He looked at me in embarrassment.

I showed him where everything was and we worked the whole day to develop the photos. Of course we did not sit there in silence. He told me about his studies and his family. And also that one day he wanted to live in Westend London and be a famous Photographer.

It was fun talking to him. He was much more intelligent than most boys my age. He also practically interested in everything. Especially the fine arts. He loved the opera and theater. His favorites play was “Romeo and Juliette” and he was able to recite every single verse. Just listening to him fascinated me. The time passed as fast as it never had before.

It was already dark when we left the photo laboratory. Phillip was a real gentleman and even brought me up to my front door. Supposedly he was concerned that someone would rob me.

I was a little shy because it had never happened before that a man escorted me home. At that time I was not very interested in a relationship anyway. But that day I felt a little different. Phillip said he would be back at the studio the day after. Strangely this time I could not wait for my alarm bell to ring.

On the next day my friends were very surprised that the only topic I wanted to talk about was my Sunday. They claimed that I must have be in love, but that was of course utter nonsense. Such a thing would not happen to me. Still, there was a strange sensation in my tummy.

Radiant and with my books under my arm I was on my way to work. But there I was crestfallen. No Phillip. I couldn't hide my disappointment.

Somewhat discontent I started with my work. It was not difficult for my employer to notice: “Oh Lucy, I ought to send you warm regards from Phillip. Unfortunately he could not come today. He has an important job interview at the court as a photographer in London. Come on, smile! He has not forgotten about you.” He smiled at me.

Smiling, right. As if my mood had something to do with some guy… Well unfortunately it had. Of course I felt much better after that I had heard that Phillip had not forgotten about me. It made me proud and happy that he did not think of me as still young and foolish. With this message in mind my work became easy and fun again.

Weeks and month went by. Phillip and I were a good team. He was always friendly even if I made a mistake. He never resented me.

We spend our lunch breaks together and he told me about the latest plays he watched or interesting architecture. He even helped me with my homework. Sometimes we sat on a blanket in the park and he listened as I learned vocabularies. Then he took my book and tested me. This way we learned for my final exam. When the day came I passed my exam with A+. I could never have done this without Phillip.

I bought him a new issue of “Romeo and Juliette” and ran to the studio for the last time. Out of breath I opened the door, but to my surprise he was not there. I looked around but there was no trace of Phillip. What had happened?

„Ah Lucy! It's such a pity you are leaving us today. Look, I have made you a photo series from all of us. So you will not forget us,“ my boss said. And there he was, smiling at me from a photo – Phillip. „That's for you my sweetheart. Phil left it for you. I wish you the very best for your future, curly-head. If you ever in need, you can always come back to us. You were the best assistant we ever had.“

I did not fully understand what my boss was telling me, I could only stare on the letter. A letter? Why did he wrote me a letter? This could not mean anything good.

I remember that day very well. It was just before christmas and it was very cold. It seemed to me that it has never been this cold before. There I was, lost, with the present for Phillip in my hand. In shock I had taken it with me. And then there was his letter. But this had to wait for a bit, first of all I had to get my train to London. My mother was waiting for me.

IV

Unpunctual as ever the train left the station. I was still confused. When I finally managed to get a seat, I pulled the letter out of my pocket. It was written on beautiful handmade paper and it had his initials as watermark. The letter was as bonny and interesting as he was. Where has he been? Fearful, yet curious I opened the letter and unfolded it.

“ My dearest Lucy,

I am very sorry that I cannot be with you today.

I got a job as a photographer and for the time being I am send abroad. Please don’t be sad. I had really hoped that

I could see you one last time, before you go into

the wide world.

I would be very pleased if you could write me.

Or you could visit our studio.

I would really love to have a picture of you

with your brown curls and your green eyes, your

beautiful bright smile and your great figure.

Please pardon that expression. I

would be most happy if we could meet again someday.

But till then I hope we can stay in contact.

I wish you and your mother a merry Christmas and

I hope to hear from you soon.

Please take care of yourself.