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Back The Night of the Flood
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Contents
  6. 1954
  7. PART 1
  8. 1.
  9. 2.
  10. 3.
  11. 4.
  12. 5.
  13. 6.
  14. 7.
  15. 8.
  16. 9.
  17. PART 2
  18. 1.
  19. 2.
  20. 3.
  21. 4.
  22. 5.
  23. 6.
  24. 7.
  25. 8.
  26. 9.
  27. 10.
  28. PART 3
  29. 1.
  30. 2.
  31. 3.
  32. 4.
  33. 5.
  34. 6.
  35. 7.
  36. PART 4
  37. 1.
  38. 2.
  39. 3.
  40. 4.
  41. 5.
  42. 6.
  43. 7.
  44. 8.
  45. 9.
  46. 10.
  47. 11.
  48. 1954
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. About the author
  51. An Invitation from the Publisher

Must dash now, I’m famished and it’s Mrs T’s day off so I’ll have to forage in the pantry and force Father to eat something.

Peter

P.S. Mrs T insisted I include some woollen items, hence the vast package.

*

18th May 1953

St Mary’s of Woolnock

Herts.

Dear Peter,

Thank you, thank you, thank you for writing. I do believe it is the longest letter you have ever written! Any news is oxygen.

I, of course, have no news. I expand like swelling fruit. You would find it quite a shock if you could see me. I look like a fat old matron with a voluminous cardigan (it is always cold and draughty, even worse than home) and my hair is shapeless as no one’s cut it for weeks. All I do is knit and take walks around the grounds. No painting, not yet. Just sketches. And sometimes I take photographs, but I have to hide Mother’s camera as we’re not allowed them. Another of the many rules.

I’m glad you went to the ceremony. It sounds as if it was interesting.

Yes to Greece! Now I am completely unmarriageable, that’s one consolation at least.

Please say hello to Father and give Mrs Timms a kiss to say thank you for the things she sent.

All love, V

P.S. Please put some flowers on Mother’s grave for me.

*

18th May 1953

Dear Arthur,

I have written many times and destroyed the letters because I can’t find the right words. I was too angry for a long time. I have heard that you are now with Muriel and hope you will be happy. I mean it sincerely; she is a good person. I have been punished for what I did, I think. I wonder if you know where I am? It feels like a purgatory. I can’t tell Peter how dire it is because he needs me to be strong.

I was going to write that I forgive you but I don’t know if that’s true but I want to because

I remain your friend,

Verity

Multiple versions, unsent.

1954

A year after the flood

It is spring again.

In the May after the birth of her baby, Verity takes the train to London from Norwich. The line from Wells has still not been fixed. Peter waves her off, a tall, lonely figure out of place in the bustling station in his country boots and jacket.

‘Look after yourself,’ he says. She thinks she’ll cry but it doesn’t come.

‘Does he know about the—?’ She cannot say the baby. Jack’s baby.

He shakes his head. She knows he rarely sees Arthur any more. Since his mother died, Arthur runs the shop with Muriel.

‘It was the best thing to do,’ he says, as if she had asked.