Nicole was nervous as she pulled the tray out of the oven twenty minutes later, but the soufflé had turned out okay. Nicole happily dug into one and decided that, other than perhaps being a little bit heavier than they should be, they weren’t too bad at all. Jane would have loved them, her favourite dessert. Sadness wrapped itself around Nicole’s heart. She missed her friend all the time.

She finished off a second one, and with her tummy full and no desire to do any renovations, she pulled out Ivy’s next letter, the date catching her eye.

16th August, 1945

My Dearest Tom,

The war is over.

The Americans have exacted retribution on the Japanese and they have surrendered. The papers are full of victorious stories and it is as if the entire nation has had a few pints and is dancing in the street. The joy is palpable.

Unfortunately it comes too late for so many, and painfully so for those of us who lost love ones so close to the end. News of Samuel’s death reached us three days ago. Mrs Bridges has shut her door and answers to no one. To lose the colonel was hard enough on her, though she stayed strong. To lose her son in the same war! I cannot imagine the poor woman’s grief. That only leaves young William Tucker to come back to us. Only one from eleven.

The very soul of our community bleeds even while it rejoices.

Father Anthony is planning a special service for when William returns. A thanks for his safe homecoming and a memorial for you and the others. I do not know how I will get through it, even with Lucy by my side.

I must confess, a feeling of ‘what now’ has wafted over me since the marvellous news of the surrender reached us. Even those without loved ones serving have been in a state of limbo, holding their breath till it was safe to exhale once more. And now they will expel their air of uncertainty and continue their lives, their daily routine no longer marred by tragic news or ration cuts. For them, things will become normal again, over time, perhaps, and perhaps a different kind of normal, but it will happen.

I, however, fear I will not know normal again. You were my normal. Before you, I was a spoiled, lost little girl suffocating under Mother’s tyranny. Then you came along and set me free, showed me what life could be. What it should be. I never breathed before you entered my life. How shall I breathe now you are gone?

The war has been a kind of distraction until now, I suppose, from your disappearance, from our lost little boy, from your death. Something to think about each day other than my own sorrow. Now it is over and all that is left is grief.