Page 20 of So This is Christmas

He brought the tea over as Sophie took the envelope from her bag and that was when it dawned on her. No other noise in the apartment. Two plates, not three. Two mugs of tea.

She looked up at him and sure enough his eyes filled with sadness.

‘Greta?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Yes, I’m afraid my Greta passed away.’

Her breath caught as she laid the envelope on the table. ‘I’m so sorry, Walter.’

‘Me too.’ And he looked down at his own address on the envelope in front of him. He turned it over to see the customary festive stamp on the seal. ‘You brought the Christmas letter?’

Sophie had done this before, held it together delivering horrible news, and she could do it again. ‘I wanted to deliver it in person.’

And she didn’t have to add anything more.

Walter closed his eyes briefly. ‘Bea’s gone too.’

‘She passed away very peacefully at the start of the month. We’d only just finished this letter, ready to send, but I forgot to post it. Then when she died she left me a letter, a request that I come.’

He liked that. ‘I’m impressed. Looks like she got her way.’

Sophie nodded. ‘It worked out well because I really wanted to come here and give Greta the letter, tell her the devastating news about Bea in person to ease the pain as much as I could.’

His sadness gave way to a look of pleasure. ‘Bea was right about you. You have a heart of gold.’

She hooked her fingers through the handle of her mug. ‘I can’t believe Greta and Bea are both gone.’

‘Me neither. I still say goodbye every time I leave the apartment. It’s silly, I know…’

‘No, it’s not silly. If it’s a comfort, then you do what you need to do. When did Greta pass?’

‘About six months ago.’

She frowned. ‘Wait… What about all the letters to Bea?’

‘It was me. I did the last few.’

‘Bea never realised. And neither did I.’

‘I couldn’t bear to tell her that her best friend was gone.’ His voice thickened with emotion. ‘So I kept it going.’

She smiled. ‘Then you also have a heart of gold. Wait, so you didn’t have internet problems?’ He shook his head. ‘And your webcam wasn’t broken?’

‘I had to come up with reasons we couldn’t do video calls.’

Her heart went out to him. He’d tried to make this as easy for Bea as possible.

They drank their tea and talked about the two dear friends. Walter told the story of how he’d met Greta, getting married, spending time in England before they came back this way.

‘Those letters were going for years,’ said Walter.

‘I know, it was incredibly special.’

‘Indeed, I’m not sure many people would’ve kept it up quite so long, but they did.’

‘Bea was always thrilled when another letter came in the post,’ Sophie told him. ‘Actually, so was I. I came to look forward to them too.’

‘Greta and I felt like we were getting to know you over the years.’

‘I felt like I was getting to know you too. How did you manage to sound so much like Greta in the letters?’

‘I was married to my Greta for over fifty years. You learn a lot about a person in that time. And I always saw the letters because it was me who printed them – Greta liked me to have a read-through and make sure she hadn’t made any mistakes.’

‘Bea always said she missed being able to see well enough to write rather than dictate and have me do them on the laptop, but she also told me that if she did try to pen one then Greta might think she was getting correspondence from a pre-schooler because her writing was so bad.’

‘Greta never minded how they came, as long as they came. It’s a shame more people don’t write letters. Text messages and emails, they’ll all be lost, but pen to paper is something else. I still have the letters Greta wrote to me when we were working miles away from each other for a time.’

‘Those must be a treasure.’

‘They are. And a comfort. Reading through Greta’s letters to me after she passed was when I decided to keep writing to Bea. I’d just got another of Bea’s letters through the door and hadn’t opened it, but I went and read it there and then and made my mind up.’

‘Bea kept all the letters and Christmas letters from Greta,’ said Sophie.

‘I’d read them as many times as Bea wanted, which was often.

I think they transported her back to her younger days and once Greta returned here, they brought Vienna closer to her.

She was able to remember some of her favourite times when they were young girls. ’

‘Greta always hoped that would be the case.’

‘Bea loved how settled you both were back here, and she loved the photos of this apartment, she said it was beautiful.’

‘Thank you. Greta and I fell in love with it the moment we saw it. She wished she could’ve had Bea to stay but she knew that wouldn’t happen, unfortunately.’

‘Bea loved England and her life there, but she told me that Vienna would always be home home for her.’

‘Greta was the same. We’re glad that Bea found Anthony and was so happy. And then she told us she’d found another home at the Tapestry Lodge, although I suspect you had a lot to do with that.’

‘I’m glad I could make her days brighter.’

‘What happened to all the letters when Bea…’

‘I took her things to my house. They’re safe. And I won’t throw them away. I could send them to you, if you like.’

‘No dear, you keep them.’ The oven timer pinged and Walter’s face lit up. ‘Will you stay for some fruit cake?’

‘Walter, I would love to.’

Sophie took charge of taking the cake from the oven. ‘Did you make this?’

‘No, Jennie made it.’ Ah, Jennie. She was the woman who was like a daughter to Walter and Greta, a sister to Nick. ‘We ate half already and I reheated this half.’

‘Well, it smells wonderful.’

‘Nick loves it too, although there’s not much he wouldn’t eat. You’ll like Nick, he’s wonderfully kind. Takes after his mother that way.’

‘And after you, I’m sure.’ She was about to ask who he’d been expecting if he’d reheated half of the cake – and quite a sizeable half – when Walter began to chuckle.

His laughter was, as they say, infectious and Sophie began to giggle a bit as she cut the cake and Walter lifted a slice onto each plate. ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.

‘Imagine if you hadn’t come, imagine if you’d decided to do the same as me and written as if you were Bea.’

‘I never would’ve been able to pull it off,’ said Sophie.

‘I think you might have done. We could’ve been sending those letters for years!’

And they were laughing and chattering so much neither of them heard the front door go.