LITMIR.BIZ

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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, he is.’ Her face illuminates. ‘He has been so good to us on this trip. I’m going to miss him.’ She allows her soft features to drop.

      ‘Hey, do I need to have words with that young man?’ Harry interrupts in a mock-stern tone.

      ‘Oh, be quiet, you old fool,’ she replies, brushing him off, before turning her attention back to me. ‘I saw you chatting on the coach earlier.’

      ‘Yes,’ I reply, unsure as to why this is becoming a ‘thing’.

      ‘He hasn’t really done that with anyone else. Usually, he hangs around by the door to answer questions and when everyone is on board, he gets on and sits at the front.’

      ‘Oh Martha, come on, she’s the only woman on the coach who doesn’t need a Zimmer frame, incontinence pads and Super Poligrip! Of course they have something in common.’

      ‘Speak for yourself! I need none of those things.’ Martha hits Harry’s arm playfully, causing him to chuckle.

      ‘She doesn’t realise she’s an octogenarian,’ he leans over to whisper to me.

      ‘My hearing is fine too,’ she says.

      ‘Harry is right,’ I say, before the senior citizen banter escalates to World War Three proportions. ‘Olivier and I are just similar in age and there’s nothing to suggest he’s single anyway.’ I curse myself for getting drawn into the debacle.

      ‘Well, he must be, the hours he works … I guess I’m just an old romantic. When I see two wonderful people alone I just want them to be happy together.’

      ‘It’s not really how real life goes,’ I say softly, hoping not to offend her.

      ‘You’re here a while. There’s still time.’ Her eyes twinkle again, and I start to feel uncomfortable. Not least because she’s way off the mark and Olivier would probably be horrified if he knew.

      ‘Martha,’ Harry says, placing a gentle hand on her knee, ‘did you come here to matchmake, or did you come here to sightsee

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