V for Violet by Alison Rattle

Author:Alison Rattle [Alison Rattle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2016-04-07T07:00:00+00:00

Love Story

I’m at the library before Miss Read has even had time to unlock the door. I’ve got Joseph’s letters and a notebook and pen stuffed inside my jacket pocket. ‘You’re keen this morning, Violet,’ she says as she ushers me inside.

‘The early bird catches the worm,’ I reply. And I smile to myself as a picture comes into my head of Joseph, transformed into a six-foot long worm, being pecked in half by a sparrow the size of a double-decker bus.

I go straight to the reference section and search the shelves until I find a copy of an English/French dictionary, then I settle myself at a table in the farthest corner of the library and begin my top-secret task.

I open my notebook and pick up one of the envelopes stamped Par Avion. I take out the letter and spread it out in front of me. The first bit’s easy; Cher Joseph = Dear Joseph.

I work my way along the first line. The words look all exotic and jumbled and complicated and they are all decorated with little squiggles and dashes.

Anniversaire. Amour. La première fois. Rencontré.

I flick through the dictionary trying to find the same words and their meanings, but it’s all so confusing. But then I find that amour means love and I know straight away that I was right about one thing – Joseph was in love with a French girl.

I work my way through the rest of the letter, jotting down notes as I go. I can’t translate it all exactly, but I think I’ve got some of the meaning. The French girl writes about remembering the first time they met and how they knew they were meant to be together. And she writes about the time they fell asleep under a tree in each other’s arms.

It takes me for ever to work just that much out. I yawn and stretch my legs out under the table. I read through what I’ve got so far. It’s a love letter, that’s clear enough. A bloody love letter.

I try to work out the next bit, and I think it’s all about nights in a barn with the rain pouring down outside.

I hope they’re not all going to be like this. It’s like reading the worst kind of poetry. But then there’s a sentence that makes me stop. It’s about promises and rings and about never taking the rings off.

I put my pen down and I think of the ring on Joseph’s finger. She loves Joseph, whoever this A is. She loves him very much. But none of her fancy words help to solve the mystery of why he came home. I open the second letter and my heart sinks as I stare at the tangle of words. But I take a deep breath and turn back to the dictionary. After a while I have a new list in my notebook and I stare and stare at the words and try to hear the French girl’s voice in my head.

Dear Joseph, I hear her say.

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