I’m sorry, babe, I feel like an oaf for not thinking about what it would mean for you to come to America on your own. I was just thinking about how much I want you in my arms. It isn’t easy to leave your home behind, especially with Jack missing and your family needing you. I understand you being a little upset, and I am too, to think of you having to say goodbye to them to be with me. And if we can do it another way, sweetheart, we will. If you want me to stay in the army longer I might get another Sydney shore leave, and you just might be able to meet me at the docks again at Woolloomooloo. Maybe we could go back to that little hotel again too—I’ll stop here before I get too carried away…

Tell me what it is you want, baby, what you’re thinking. I hate trying to have a conversation this way and waiting for your reply, not knowing whether I’m making things better or making you sad. I just want us to cuddle up together and tell each other everything we’re thinking, not to have to write it all down and then wait for a week or two before we know whether or not we’ve been understood.

Know this, Sarah: I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be together. That’s all for now.

Love,

R

Dear R,

No, now I’ve thought it through and I’m sure this is the right way. I’ll get on one of the ships and we’ll meet up over there. Of course it will be hard to tell Mum and Dad, especially Mum, but it’s been hard living with them again these past weeks too, and I’m reminded of all of the reasons why I moved out in the first place. And while that hotel in Woolloomooloo gives me all kinds of delicious memories, we can make more memories wherever we end up, as long as we’re together. I know the lady said it would be a while but I’m starting to hope they call me up soon.

I’ve been over to the club I told you about on Castlereagh Street and met some nice girls, and talking to them has eased my nerves a little about the journey to come.

Yours with love,

S

It’s so strange to read their private words out loud, the words that Grandma wrote all those years ago. She doesn’t even blush, but sometimes the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. I can see how the letters let them get to know each other better. How they gave them a place to talk about things that were difficult to say face to face.

Maybe I should write a letter to Ash.