A/N: This is very different to anything I've written before because it's in first person and it's in diary format and it's a side story. I've never written a side story before. If you haven't read my current main fic, A Time to Try, this may not make a lot of sense but I hope all the same you enjoy this.
23rd May 1960
Dear Diary,
Today we had a gentleman at the school teaching the girls all about healing magic. His name was Nicholas Nightingale. He's tall, handsome... He has beautiful blue eyes that shimmer like sapphires. A perfect specimen, too good for me. Though when I look at him my heart skips, my legs go weak and it's as though I can't find the words to say to him.
It was raining again today. The soft pitter-patter of raindrops against the misty, cold glass didn't disturb our conversation as we shared a coffee in the staff room.
He loves Frank Sinatra, old blue eyes himself. As if I'd ever meet a man who would love him as much as I do. To hear his soft, beautiful voice singing odes to lost love beneath a dark sky with starlit freckles, that's what I told him my dream was. He smiled at me with his beautiful wide smile, whispering in his gentle voice that his dream was to dance with a woman beneath the full moon, completely entranced by her beauty as he span with her. One-two-three, One-two-three. Turning and turning into the dark air, encapsulated by love and hope. I could see myself in his arms, spinning in the forest beneath a dark canvas sky, speckled with stars with a brilliant full moon above us, listening to songs that tell of love one could only dream of.
Nicholas wears a golden watch, his grandfather's. He told me one day he was to give it to his son, though he doesn't have a son quite yet. He's unmarried, completely single! If only he were interested in me. I pray that he would be. Perhaps one day, diary.
1st June 1960
Dear Diary,
I walked into my office this afternoon to find a pot of red roses on my desk; uncut, still alive, flourishing in the soft brown soil within the pristine white pot. They were beautiful blooms, full of life and radiating the essence of love. They couldn't have been for me, I told myself. But when I looked at the card tied to one of the longer stems there were only two words, Love, Nick.
17th June 1960
Dear Diary,
I dreamt of him last night. His sapphire eyes looking into mine as he held me close. When I woke up and found he wasn't next to me I wept. Oh how I wish to see him again, to see that gorgeous smile, to stroke that perfect, square jawline. Will I ever see you again, Nick?
18th June 1960
Dear Diary,
My prayers were answered today. There had been a knock at my office door during lunch break and he was there. Oh how I wanted to go to him and hold him as he had held me in my dream, but I knew I was asking for too much.
He asked if I liked the flowers. I nodded, unable to speak under the gaze of those piercing blue eyes.
He told me about his belief, that presenting someone with cut flowers was condemning your relationship to the same fate as those poor blooms. Then he sat down before me and asked if he could take me to dinner.
My heart skipped as he held my hand, trembling against his silky touch, and he kissed it lightly. His lip prickled a little bit, he hadn't shaved that morning. To me he still looked perfect.
When he left, he pulled his brown overcoat around his shoulders tightly. The cold castle didn't agree with him, he said. When he was but a boy he had suffered terribly with an illness that left him vulnerable to the cold.
Anyway I have an outfit to pick out, diary! Wish me luck.
30th January 1961
Dear Diary,
We had our first argument today. We were at his flat when it happened. It was about nothing in particular, just what we were going to have for dinner. He wanted a stew, I wanted spaghetti. He's ever such a fussy eater. I asked him if he would compromise this once. He gave in eventually. Nick had never had spaghetti before. He actually really enjoyed it!
After we washed up the plates he carried me to his bedroom and we made love. When he held me in bed that night he told me that he never wanted to let me go. He stroked my cheek gently, kissing the tip of my nose as he whispered to me those three magic words, more powerful than the strongest spell. He kissed me and in the moment when our lips touched I knew that we would grow old together.
12th August 1961
Dear Diary,
Today Nick and I went house hunting. There is a charming cottage in the village and we both knew that it was the home for us. It has a big front garden for our children to play in when we have them and a spot for both of us to do our gardening. We stood in the doorway, looking out onto the street, my head on his shoulder. He kissed my hair and told me those magic words again, his words. I looked up to him and he smiled, the smile that kept me warm on a cold winter's night.
We signed the papers and the cottage is now ours. We are to move in at the beginning of the month – the first day of the school term. It looks to me like Nick's going to be doing it on his own, sorry Nick!
1st September 1963
Dear Diary,
Today is the day I became headmistress. Nick held my hand throughout the assembly, telling me I'd be okay. In all honesty I was sweating throughout, but don't tell anyone. The girls would never let me live it down.
It is officially my school, my school! My life couldn't get any better right now. I have an amazing job, a gorgeous boyfriend. I couldn't ask for more.
24th December 1963
Dear Diary,
It was snowing today, it's definitely going to be a white Christmas. Nick held me close in bed, whispering to me that I was his hot water bottle - and who said romance was dead? When he laughed it off he told me he would give me one present before Christmas morning, just one, but I would have to wait until later that day to receive it. I tried to force it out of him but he wasn't having it so I gave in eventually and got dressed, ready to prepare the Christmas party for the girls.
That night, as the snow fell gently on the cold, hard ground, Nick led me out into the forest beyond the school, his jacket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his glove-clad hands warming my bare pale icicles. Despite the fact that it was snowing, the sky was clear, speckled with brilliant white stars, or perhaps they were snowflakes. A vivid moon shone down on us, lighting our path as he led me to a clearing.
He waved a hand and music began to play. It was old blue eyes, singing our song... He opened his arms to me and we danced, just as we had dreamed it. We span, turning and turning into the dark space, in a world where nothing existed beyond us two, wrapped in this moment forever. One-two-three, one-two-three.
We continued to turn, his eyes fixed on mine, filled with that perfect love I had wished for the day I had set eyes on him. I leant against his chest, smelling his spicy scent, his fresh minty breath. His heart was racing as the music slowed down and finally stopped playing.
He let go of me and for a moment my heart sank. Then he knelt down, his trousers becoming wet as his right knee pressed against the pale blanket below. From within his coat pocket he drew out a small red box. Before he even opened it I knelt down, not caring about my own clothes, and kissed those soft lips, whispering his words. The ring was simple, set with a small diamond; his grandmother's ring.
He gave me the one present I had prayed for since Agatha had ran away – he gave me a family.
11th October 1965
Dear Diary,
Today we got married. The drums and harps played as I made my way down the carpet of petals leading towards Him. He wore a set of ornate dress robes; brilliant crimson embroidered with gold thread. When I approached the altar I felt my heart racing, I could barely breathe but when I looked into his sapphires I knew I was doing the right thing. The priestess, a small woman with curly brown hair, had tied our hands as is the tradition for us witches, and covered them with her own.
I spoke of the purest love as I gazed at him, a love I had never expected to feel. I had never been the pretty one, or the tall one or the skinny one. I had always been me. I told him that when I'm with him I feel like the tall, pretty, skinny one.
He kissed my lips, speaking of a fantasy come true as he looked upon me, stroking my cheek with his free hand. He said that he had never believed in love before he met me and with me anything was possible. We became man and wife and our lips pressed together, his arms wrapped tightly around me, as though he never wanted to let me go.
After the ceremony was over he cast away his robes and we sang our song throughout the night, soft kisses and caresses, teasing me with his words as we worshipped each other.
19th March 1969
Dear Diary,
I had been pregnant. Had... I knew something hadn't been right when I had woken up. There had been blood. Everywhere.
Nick took me to the doctor who confirmed that I'd miscarried again. This was the third one. I sobbed into Nick's chest as we lay on the bed together, praying for a blessing. We were never destined to have children, never destined to have that family we had both dreamed of.
I had laid in bed for days after the news, refusing to come down for school duties. Nick had laid beside me, stroking my hair and telling me I was going to be okay. I didn't respond to him but he held me, whispering his words and telling me that whatever happened I was a fighter.
I don't feel whole anymore. The doctor told us that we may never be able to have a baby of our own. All I have ever wanted was a family of my own, a family with my husband. Still I feel numb, unwomanly. What kind of a woman can't bear her husband a child?
8th September 1971
Dear Diary,
Nick and I have been together for over ten years and we have never been on holiday together. Well that changed today! We went away for the weekend to... Milton Keynes.
Okay the hotel was nice and a change of scenery was nice but I wouldn't say Milton Keynes was my first choice when it came to going away on a romantic holiday.
Either way it was nice to spend some time together with him. We have hardly spent any time together since... well, when we lost the babies I suppose. And there has been nothing in the way of romance beyond cuddling. It's all me. I've been avoiding it, coming to bed late so he's already asleep or if he's awake saying I don't feel very well. I'm just scared of falling pregnant and having another miscarriage. I don't want to go through that heartache again.
I love Nick with all my heart but if he does ever want a child he can have a child with someone else. I've told him this but he won't listen. He said that he would never be able to lay with a woman he didn't love and he was happy to wait for me to be ready again.
Why have I been blessed with this perfect man?
27th February 1973
Dear Diary,
Davina, our new member of staff, decided it would be fun to go on a nature walk so everyone followed her into the woods including myself and my husband.
We ended up going round and round in circles near the beck. She had no clue where she was going and eventually Nick and I decided to leave the group and do our own thing. We are both far too old to be climbing up trees but we found a tall oak that would support both of us (I hate to admit it but I've gained quite a lot of weight in the last thirteen years.)
Nick and I watched Davina lead the students, Millicent the potions mistress and Ursula the jewellery design teacher around the woods like a marching band, laughing as we saw the expressions on our girls' faces. They did look rather depressed about getting mud all over their boots.
He put his arm around me as we watched the scene below and I looked up to him. Our lips met and I felt the urge to hold him like I'd held him before the tragedy our relationship had faced, before we had let the romance fizzle out.
When we returned to the castle we sat on the bed and I noticed a thin grey hair twinkling away on his head. He's getting old! He teased me saying that I'm getting even older, for he found my first grey hair years ago. I laughed and he kissed me again, laying me down on the bed as he had done so many times before and I gave in, forgetting all my concerns for pain and suffering and living for love.
After we made love he held me close against his chest, whispering sweet nothings, telling me his words.
4th November 1974
Dear Diary,
Today was bitter cold. The rain was pouring down and the wind made it turn into cannon blasts against the cobblestones outside. When I got to my office at the end of the day there was a pot of planted red roses and a note. From Nick, the note said on the outside. With a smile I unfolded it and it said, Meet me in the bedroom at the cottage. I have a surprise.
So after doing my paperwork I walked down to the cottage in the village and opened the door. All the way through the living room there were brilliant white rose petals, leading into the kitchen and up the stairs. I followed them, trying to listen and see if I could hear him. He was completely silent. I knocked on the closed bedroom door and heard his velvety voice, the voice that made my knees feel as though they were going to give way beneath me. I turned the handle and he was sat there in his pyjamas with a tiny black ball of fluff curled up on his knee. He has bought a kitten.
She is the most beautiful kitten I think I've ever seen with eyes as bright as the moon and fur as black as night, so we named her Luna.
He said that we will treat her like our child if we can't have one of our own, only without the cute little pieces of clothing. I can't argue with that. She is truly beautiful.
13th March 1975
Dear Diary,
It's over. It's all over. My life... The man I live for is...
My heart can't handle this pain.
He's... gone.
We were sitting on the sofa at the cottage, talking about the school. Luna caught my eye as she sat in the window, clicking her tongue at the neighbours. I turned to him and he smiled at me, taking my hand in his own and kissing it softly, like he did on the day we first met. Then with a little "Oh," the light left his eyes and his hand went limp.
How could you do this to me, Nick? How could you leave me? We were meant to grow old together, to knit sweaters and have a lot of cats and listen to Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller.
20th March 1975
Dear Nicholas,
It was your funeral today. So many people came to pay their respects. You were a loved man.
They played our song as you left, as your coffin lowered into the ground; a proper funeral, just like you asked.
You shouldn't be in that cold ground, you should be with me in the land of the living. They say only the good die young and I think that's true.
I miss your warmth on a night, I don't think that will ever change.
The day I lost you I thought I knew sadness but today was even worse. I think it was the closure.
Remember this; I will always love you my Darling, forever and always.
14th February 1976
Dear Nicholas,
I had to move out of the cottage. There are just too many memories there, memories of us. Every time I look around I see you and although I love you with all of my heart I can't keep living like this.
So I'm living in the castle now, in a different room. I'm not trying to escape you, it's just... When I look at that bed I see you lying there, sleeping with Luna on your chest. But you aren't there, and that's the problem. I can't go to you and kiss you. You can't hold me in your arms anymore, you aren't here and I'm lost without you.
23rd May 1977
Dear Nicholas,
Today is the anniversary of the day we met. Seventeen years I'd have known you if you were still here.
We were holding interviews at the castle today for a new jewellery design teacher, Ursula wants to retire.
There were a couple of applicants, one woman you would have found hilarious – a woman called Patricia. She's blonde, a Geordie and as tough as old boots. She has a wicked sense of humour and a brilliant taste in music. I told her about you and she said that I was a lucky lady to have known you. How does that sound? A total stranger thinking you're amazing, despite your picky taste in food.
So I gave Patricia the job. She's artistic, she brought her portfolio full of amazing designs and photographs of things she's made and she makes her own clothes (though her dress sense leaves something to be desired).
17th June 1980
Dear Nicholas,
Millicent retired today, well handed in her retirement notice – she'll work until the end of the school year so it's time to find a replacement. Everybody is getting so old. I forget that I worked beneath her and Ursula before I became headmistress, before my mother retired. You forget that people age and move on as the world keeps turning; year after year, day after day, life goes on and people move on to pastures new, or retire in the case of Cackle's.
It's time to source a replacement. I've put an advert in the national papers, let's see what happens.
30th June 1980
Dear Nicholas,
I had a letter today from a young lady wanting to rent our cottage! I went to visit it and it's a complete mess outside; your peonies have been eaten up by brambles and wild grass.
I'm sorry.
I asked Patricia and Davina to help me with decorating. Let's see how that goes. Those two are like the terrible twosome, inseparable! It's wonderful to see Davina with a friend.
23rd July 1980
Dear Nicholas,
Well the young girl moved into our cottage today. I haven't met her yet, I just hope the decorating is okay for her. Patricia said it's inspired by a page in one of her style magazines, so here's hoping she's into that kind of thing.
I had a dream about you last night. I wonder if it was you, or just a figment of my imagination. I hope it's the former. We were sat on a boat, looking out over a city and you held my hands, telling me those magic words again.
Even five years on, I still miss you like it was yesterday. I've managed to move back into our old room at the castle and Luna lies on your pillow. I think she misses you. You really were her person.
You were my person too.
29th July 1980
Dear Nicholas,
You remember Gloria Cosie, my friend who runs the café? Well she went over to see the girl who has moved into our cottage and swears she's a witch! So today I went with Davina on her walk through the village with the girls and I saw her gardening, doing a bit of magic, so to speak, on your old buddleja.
She's a very pretty young lady with dark hair, pale skin and doe-like eyes. She also seems very intelligent. I wonder if she'll take the hint from Gloria and apply for the job at the school. I hope she does, she seems very down to Earth, just perfect. You would have liked her.
Her name is Constance.
4th August 1980
Dear Nicholas,
Well young Constance got the job, much to the dismay of Millicent. Even though she's now retired I actually don't think she wanted to hand over the torch to such a young witch. I have high hopes for our newest recruit. She may even become deputy one day, who knows?
We went for coffee at Gloria's café, talking about our shared interests. She isn't crazy about music but she reads a lot of books, especially children's books. She said that there is always a message of hope for young readers which is why she reads them. Her favourite is Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Do you remember that book? We were going to call our daughter Alice weren't we?
27th August 1980
Dear Nicholas,
I went for a walk down to the cemetery today to visit you. I come to see you every Sunday but today I wanted to see you again.
I whispered your words as I touched the wet soil beneath my fingertips and for a moment I felt like you were stood behind me. I long to hear those words come from your lips once more, those three magic words that made me feel whole. I could have sworn I heard your voice whispering on the wind as I knelt by your grave. Perhaps it was wishful thinking.
An old friend told me that you give potted plants to someone if you want the relationship to last, so I brought you some red roses, just like you always used to give to me. When I got back to the school I took the roses I had in my office and planted them just outside my office window so when they grow I will be reminded of you, forever and always, my Darling.
To you I give those magic words once more; I love you.