Melanie Hudson - The Last Letter from Juliet

I said nothing. There was no point arguing with Ma.

‘But listen to me, Juliet, and listen hard,’ she added. ‘When you do blossom into a woman, remember that there are two types of man in this world – the non-predatory and the predatory. With your gypsy looks and wild-hearted spirit I know that you will attract the latter, but you must promise me, my love, that when you marry, you will marry the former. Oh, toy with predatory men if you must, make love to them, tease them for your own entertainment, but never – never – marry a charming man, and remember …’ she tipped my face upwards from the chin at this point ‘… are you listening to me, Juliet? If you ever fall properly and desperately in love, remember that the first throws of love are nothing more than obsession, they are not love, not really. And never let a man know how deeply you love him, because once he has the upper hand, he will break your heart in a single moment and not even pause as he steps over your broken body to move onto the next.’

Then, when I was fourteen, came the crash. Bereft, and dependent on Pa’s solicitor who was intent on carrying out mother’s wishes, I was sent to school in Paris and that’s where I met Lottie Lanyon, who took me under her wing and helped me through the darkest days of my life, never leaving me alone during the holidays, always taking me home to Cornwall, to Lanyon, and sharing her family with me, which is how I met Lottie’s brother Charles, the most non-predatory young man I had ever met. After a short courtship, I agreed to marry him.

Edward listened while I told an abridged version of my story. At no time during the course of the whole conversation did I admit to my engagement or to my mother’s warning about fast men. Was this a deliberate omission on my behalf – absolutely.

‘On my fourteenth birthday – which is also Christmas Day, by the way – Pa took me into the little club house we had at our landing strip in Oxford and he gave me a good luck charm, to keep with me, always.’

Still sitting on the harbour wall, I took my lucky charm out of my pocket and handed it to Edward. It was a compass, cased in gold.

‘It’s the most special thing I own – will ever own,’ I said, smiling at the thought of Pa.

‘It’s lovely,’ he said. ‘It’s a compass you say?’

‘Yes.’

‘But it looks like a pocket watch.’

He pressed a catch on the side to open the lid, revealing the compass.

‘Yes, it does, rather. But look … if you flick this tiny little lever, like this, and then turn the catch, the back of the compass casing opens rather than the front … see? And then you find that it’s not just a compass at all, but something else entirely.’

Edward looked at it, confused. A needle was centred on the face, but rather than pointing to North or South, the only words written on this side were, Oui and Non .

‘It’s an heirloom from my mother’s side of the family,’ I explained. ‘They were travellers. This side of the compass acts as a kind of fortune teller’s trinket.’

‘How does it work?’

‘Well, let’s say you have a pressing question you desperately need an answer for, you open the compass, ask the question, then press the catch to spin the needle and see where it lands – yes, or no. When Pa gave it to me, he said, “Here is your real inheritance, Juliet. But remember, if you ever need an answer to an important question, know that in your heart, you already know all the answers, and most often, if you are in doubt about something and are looking for an answer, then whatever it is that you are considering doing – don’t. Pause, wait, consider. There is much more time around than anyone supposes.”’

‘Have you ever asked it a question?’

I shook my head. ‘Never.’

Edward closed the compass and handed it back.

‘It’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘He must have loved you very much.’

I felt tears sting my eyes. Dear, darling Pa.

‘He did.’

‘You never thought of giving it up, after the accident – flying, I mean?’

I thought about my answer.

‘Have you ever thought of giving up breathing?’

He shook his head with a smile.

‘There you go then. It’s who I am. When I’m in the sky,’ I looked up with a sigh, ‘up there, I’m in heaven. I don’t blame aeroplanes for my parent’s death and have no intention of stopping flying because of it. It was a moment’s misjudgement on Pa’s behalf, and as devastating as it has been, I know he would want me to keep going, whatever the consequences.’

We sat in silence for a while, our shoulders touching, before turning our thoughts to Germany and the heart-breaking possibility of war. I talked of my grand plan – a plan I had not revealed to anyone, least of all to Charles – that being my determination to fly for the RAF, perhaps even join as a fighter pilot, the first woman ever. I just needed to work out a way to persuade them to have me. Edward did not mock. He accepted my dream as an equal, saying that if I dreamt hard enough, anything could happen. And I liked that. I liked that very much indeed.

‘Anyway, your turn,’ I said, returning the compass to a pocket. ‘You’re obviously not local, so why rent a cottage here? Why has E. Nancarrow come to Angels Cove?’ I took a quick slurp of whiskey. It was Edward’s turn to pause before answering. I filled the gap by answering my own question. ‘No, wait! I bet you’re an artist. It’ll be the light. Are you in with the Newlyn set?’

Edward shook his head.

‘I’m not in with any set. I just thought I’d come and stay for a while, take in the sea air. Enjoy the view.’

‘How very leisurely of you. But what do you do for a living – other than walking your dog on the cliffs and getting in the way of women trying to land their planes – what are you?’

A wry smile drifted across his face.

He rubbed his chin in thought. ‘I told you. I’m a coddiwompler.’

I laughed. ‘That again.’

‘Yes, that again.’ He took a sip of my whiskey. ‘Does that answer your question?’

I kicked my legs against the harbour wall.

‘Bearing in mind I have no idea what a coddiwompler is, I would say that you have in no way answered my question. So …?’

‘So?’

‘So, go on then, what is one?’

Edward sniffed and shook his head.

‘Oh, well, this is quite awkward, because I’m not really allowed to say.’

He looked away, pretending to be interested in a couple of men who were sitting on a boat, supposedly mending their nets but really just chatting at the far end or the harbour wall.

‘Not allowed to say? But you were going to tell me earlier …’

‘We coddiwomplers are members of a top secret club – I was going to tell you before because I thought you must be one, too’ – he turned to me – ‘because it hit me last night that you seem to be exactly the sort of person who would love to live her life as we do … but now, I’m not so sure. You might be a bit …’

‘A bit?’

‘Sensible.’

‘Nonsense. You’ve seen my aircraft – Daredevil is quite literally my middle name. Tell me!’

He shook his head. ‘No. We’ll just have to play I spy, instead. I’ll start.’ He glanced around the harbour. ‘I spy something beginning with B.’

‘Boat?’

His eyes lit up.

‘Yes! Say, you’re real good at this! I’ll give it another shot … I spy something beginning with S …’

‘The sea.’

‘No, that would be T S. Try again …’

The time passed far too quickly and without even noticing it, the sun began to set beyond the islands. I jumped off the harbour wall in a wild panic. Edward had a definite look of satisfaction on his face when I chided him for keeping me talking for so long.