Wow, it's been a loooong time since I last updated. Sorry :-( I've been distracted by long-term illness, losing my job and lately (and more happily) grad school applications. Thanks to everyone who left comments in the extended hiatus - they spurred me to continue!

If anyone is still reading, here is a short chapter to keep things moving. I hope it won't be as long before I update again.

Elsie stirred her tea methodically, using the moment of silence to marshall her thoughts, searching for a way to continue the conversation.

After the awkward embrace outside, the sense of embarrassment had led her into exchanging polite, and rather pointless, small talk as she and James had found a table and placed their order. At first she was glad of the distraction offered by the necessary formalities in order to rebuild the slightly frayed edges of her composure. Now, she simply wanted to find the courage to steer the conversation towards something more meaningful than "how was your journey?"

"I hadn't realised how strange this would be" James suddenly said with a wry smile, picking at a non-existent speck on his sleeve. "There are so many things I've wanted to ask you for so many years and now here you are and I can't work out what to say".

She smiled, somehow comforted by their shared discomfort.

"Thank you" she blurted, keen to keep the conversation moving.

"For what?" James had his father's puzzled frown.

"For writing to me. For wanting to meet me. I hoped, of course, but I don't think I ever really dared to believe …" Elsie trailed off, chewing on her lip nervously.

"I've always wanted to. Ever since my parents ..", he looked up sharply, ".. my adopted parents, I mean"

"It's OK" she quickly cut in, "they're your parents in all the ways that matter. How could I possibly begrudge them that".

James smiled sheepishly in return, "well, ever since they told me about you, I've wanted to meet you. I was always too scared though". He fiddled with the teaspoon, eyes fixed on the shifting reflections. "i thought you might have moved on with your life … forgotten me".

"Oh Jamie … never. There hasn't been a day when I haven't thought of you". She reached out to take his hand, feeling the small callouses and traces of old cuts as she wrapped her fingers around his.

"When I held you just after you were born, I remember you could wrap your entire fist around my finger. And now look at you" she ran her thumb across the knuckles of his much larger hand.

The silence fell again as they stared at each other across the table.

"No one has called me Jamie before.." he mused

"Oh, I'm sorry.."

He waved away her apology "no, it's fine, I like it. It reminds me of when mum used to call me Jimmy - it felt special, you know?"

"She doesn't call you Jimmy any more?"

James' eyes dropped and his next quiet words were addressed to the table top.

"She's gone"

Elsie felt her heart lurch. "Gone?"

He nodded sadly "About ten years ago. Tuberculosis. I don't think my father ever really got over it."

He rubbed at his eyes quickly with the back of his free hand and Elsie grasped the other more tightly between both of hers.

"He died this summer … I couldn't even make it to his funeral"

"I'm so sorry Jamie", she blinked away her own tears, remembering that sweet couple who had been so kind to her.

"I'm in the Army you see, so I've only just been able to get leave for long enough to come back from France … "

Elsie didn't hear the rest of his words over the rushing of blood in her ears.

TWIST! Those who know their history will be able to guess why James couldn't get leave in Summer 1916.

How will Elsie cope with knowing that James will be going back to war? What about Carson?