Writer's Notebook

The shock of seeing Violette on the TV the night before was unsettling. Here I was with a dinner date that very evening and hoping beyond hope that I would get to see more of Morgana, yet here was this visible presence from the past, peeping over my shoulder and reminding me that she had once occupied centre stage in my life. Had I stayed in the pub yesterday evening I might have heard enough to make me realise that this relationship was truly over. As it was, I did an about turn the moment I saw her face and went for a long walk down by the canal. So it wasn't until the next day that the fascinating announcement of Violette's unlikely marriage reached me. And looking back I'm glad I didn't hear any earlier. Circumstances must not be allowed to decide this question for me; I had to find my own answer.

Strangely enough, I was not in any kind of turmoil. Indeed, I quickly realised that I hadn't thought of Violette in months. True her sudden reappearance was unsettling, but not unduly worrying. I relived some of the times we had shared together. We'd had a lot of fun but there had also been more than our fair share of problems. In fact, even before she disappeared, it was rapidly becoming clear that we weren't made for each other. We just weren't on the same wavelength. And so, out there on the towpath I was finally able to lay to rest the ghost of Violette past and reaching the old boathouse I turned back towards Gensdouce more convinced than ever that my happiness lay in someone else's hands.

We met for dinner for dinner that evening and left the restaurant some three hours later scarcely believing what had taken place. In spite of the excellent dinner which undoubtedly weighed us down somewhat, we both felt as if we were walking on air. As she was teaching early the next morning at the conservatoire, Morgana had arranged to spend the night at a girlfriend's, so after walking her home, I set off for the railway station, still mesmerized at my amazing inability to see what was going on around me. Morgana had been in love with me for months and I'd not noticed a thing. How could I have been so blind? The whole thing was crazy. Yet, looking back it was all so obvious. And ass as I was, I'd almost ruined everything with my insensitivity. Even that very evening I'd failed to see what was coming. I'd planned on asking her out again sometime that week, and hoped that if she said yes, then we might soon start seeing each other regularly. But Morgana was having none of it. She had loved and hoped; she had seen her hopes dashed forever until my arrival and apology the previous morning had revived them once again. She had hesitated because she didn't want to see them wrecked again. And in the course of that day her idea had become a firm resolve. The moment I asked if I couldn't see her again later that week, she looked me straight in the eyes and in her own touching way exclaimed, "Simon, why don't we get married?"

In order to give us time to inform our families we decided to wait a few days before making the announcement to our unsuspicious little world. So, the next morning saw me back at my office at the espace loisirs but not before the following letter had been written and was on its way to the emerald green island that had, for so long, been my home.