This chapter is slightly different from any preceding one. It is comprised solely of letters between the characters but we, of course, only see those that Edward and Bella see. Also bear in mind that most people do not say exactly what they are thinking in a letter so this chapter may be less deep than some others. You have to read between the lines ;)

AN 16/7/09: I've decided to change the way this chapter was formatted, so now the sender's name is at the top rather than the fonts being different. Hopefully that will help to clear up any confusion.

Letters From The Other Side


Nurse Swan
Corbie
5th May 1918

Dear Edward,

I miss you. I hope you are keeping well and looking after yourself. You'll think I'm silly but I worry you will forget to take care of yourself in watching over everyone else. Don't prove me right, please.

All is well at home, as far as I know; Alice has been sending me regular updates and my father also writes occasionally. I get the impression that your family are taking very good care of him and I am extremely grateful. I must write to thank them, and I shall, as soon as I am done with your letter.

Here in Corbie, we have been under siege from a new wave of injured soldiers from a recent push. It breaks my heart to see them in pain, especially as when I look at every young face I see yours, Edward. The thought that one day it could be you who needs to be treated fills me with dread and I wish, ironically, that I could take care of you. It has always been the other way around with us and that thought, as almost every one of you, makes me smile.

My nurse's training is almost complete and I am sure I shall pass, although the Sisters frequently despair of me. I am a habitual offender when it comes to spilling and breaking things and, as Sister Martin constantly reminds me, we cannot afford to waste anything. She has me scrubbing the floors in punishment quite twice a week but, goodness knows, I try and cannot help my clumsiness. Some of the other new nurses laugh at me and secretly thank their lucky stars that they don't have my misfortune, but for the most part we get along well.

Only yesterday, Sister Walker set me to changing all the beds along one row of the ward and I put the sheets down on an end table for a moment while I stripped the old linens. When I came back, a tray had been set on top of them and a bottle of iodine was dripping onto the clean sheets. I only turned my back for one minute! I tried to explain to Sister Martin who, just my luck, happened to be passing at that moment, that I really had no idea how they came to have iodine on them, but she was having none of it. So, somehow, I have ended up having to empty all the bedpans for the next week for staining some perfectly good sheets. I suppose it is fair; I should have been more attentive and not left the sheets for a moment, but if anyone else had done what I did then they would have got away with it. These things do seem to happen to me.

I hope I don't bore you with these foolish tales of mine but I imagine that, by telling you, you are almost here with me. Of course, you would not want to be doing the jobs of an orderly in a field hospital, but it comforts me to think of you. You are not so very far away now but it still seems as if an ocean separates us. It is ridiculous that a distance of less than ten miles can seem like a world apart, but with neither of us being free to leave our posts there is little we can do. I suppose you will soon be given leave again, but it does not seem like it can be soon enough. I am a lovesick fool indeed!

I miss you, that is all, and can't wait to see you again. That is not a crime, surely? I love you, but you already know that.

Your Bella

Miss Alice Masen
Forks
3rd May 1918

Dear Bella,

How is life as a nurse? I can well imagine you dressed in your smart uniform, attending to the dashing young men who suffer your ministrations in silence. Promise me you won't trip and spill acid or something over some poor soldier? That does sound like the kind of thing you might do.

All is well here – your father is in fine health and regularly treks miles with mine to find the best fishing spots. I visit him often and he always seems happy to see me, which is gratifying! He has a ready smile for me and usually some story or other about trout, or whatever is his latest catch. You don't need to worry about him at all, Bella, he truly seems in good spirits. He misses you, of course, but is well looked after and happy enough. Mrs Shirley takes good care of him and he has told me a time or two that he enjoys her cooking very much, although he prefers yours, naturally.

My parents and I are keeping well, too, although I miss Jasper dreadfully. We all speak often of Edward and yourself, off on your French adventure without me. I do hope you will tell me all about how it is to be in a foreign country and how it is to be a nurse. If I am not old enough to do it myself then I can at least hear about it from my best friend. I would expect that much of you. Perhaps, in a little over eight months, I can join you in France! We could work together to save all the soldiers' lives! I can see it now!

Please write back to me soon because I miss you terribly. Who am I to spend my days with now that both you and Jasper have left me? I received a letter from him yesterday and he said that his training is going well and that he will soon be going to the front with his new regiment. I worry about him so much, Bella. What if anything should happen to him? I don't know how I could cope, I really don't. And what of Edward? He has been at war for months and months and I never seem to get used to it. Have you had any occasion to see him yet? If you do, you will be sure to write and tell me how he is? I want to hear every detail about the pair of you so please don't disappoint me!

I'm waiting impatiently for your reply.

Your friend,

Alice

Private Masen
Amiens
10th May 1918

Dear Bella,

You cannot imagine what a pleasure it is for me to receive your letters. I could listen to any tale of yours for hours on end and never get bored. Your energy, your very being touches me through the words and they make me feel closer to you. Please promise me you'll never stop writing to me.

I am sorry about the iodine incident although I confess I laughed for a long time when first I read your letter. How is it that these things happen only to you? You have a charm to you, apparently, that seems to attract such luck. It is indubitable that I have been affected by this same charm; only you would fall in love with a man who must spend the next however many months or years fighting in a foreign country. I am grateful, however, for this strange affliction of yours; where would I be without you?

There is little to report on my side as nothing much happens around here. Occasionally there is a bout of shelling and, even more infrequently, a German attack. We have not had one of those for many months and the frontline almost seems to be growing drowsy. All we do, for at least a significant part of the day, is sleep, play cards and wait. There is a lot of waiting; I have grown to be an expert in the field. Sometimes it is interminably boring but it also gives me occasion to reflect. I think I have done more pondering in my months at war than I could ever do during the rest of my life!

The other day I was thinking about the time that we raided Mrs Pritchett's orchard for apples; do you remember? We were only eleven years old and thought it would be clever to find ourselves a stash of snacks. Mrs Pritchett was always so bitter towards us children so we decided that she owed us a few of her apples. The recollection brings a smile to my face; we schemed and planned all morning before executing our raid just before lunch. We were so proud of our little venture!

We climbed over her fence at the back of the orchard – do you recall how your skirt got caught on a splinter and you had to rip it to get free? We snuck towards her apple trees but neither of us had thought to bring a basket or anything so we could only take a handful anyway. You wouldn't let me pick any from the trees so we collected the ones on the ground and you carried them in your apron. I climbed back over first and then you threw them over the fence to me. I seem to remember that we made a pretty quick getaway as Mrs Pritchett chose that moment to come out of her house, furious and brandishing a large wooden spoon! We were in so much trouble for our efforts when she told our parents! Secretly, though, I was still proud of our adventure and told Michael when we got to school the next morning. He was so envious!

It's strange to think that he's dead now; in later years I ceased to harbour much friendly feeling towards him but I never wished him any harm. Alright, you know that's not quite true, but I never wanted him to get really hurt. A swift kick might have done him all the good in the world.

It is memories like this that get me through the monotony; memories and imagining what you are doing at this moment. This afternoon, right now, I think that you are caring for a patient. A young soldier with a leg wound, perhaps, who just needs a friendly smile and a warm bed. That was me only a few months ago and I know that you will take care of him as well as anybody could. I am convinced you will make a wonderful nurse, really I am.

I love you too, of course, and miss you everyday. Ten miles is not really so far and I hear whispers that soon my regiment might be billeted away from the front. If that is true then I will find a way to come and see you – it cannot be so very hard.

Yours,

Edward

Nurse Swan
Corbie
17th May 1918

Dear Alice,

Life as a nurse is treating me well enough, thank you. The work is hard and the hours are long, but the job is certainly rewarding when there is some poor man whom I can help. It does eat away at me to see them in pain but I would not dream of shirking my work and coming home just yet. I need to see this war out and, besides, being here means I am closer to Edward. For that, I would take any hours and work.

The Sisters here are very strict so I must constantly mind that I don't break any of their many rules. I am quite hopeless when it comes to spillages but you know how clumsy I am. Thank you, by the way, for your hilarious quip about my pouring acid over some soldier. I would have you know that would never happen. They never let me near anything dangerous.

Thank you so much for taking care of my father in the way that you do. Your company means the world to him, I know, and your cheerful presence is, I'm sure, as invaluable to him as it is to me. I miss you too, you know, and I wish that my best friend could be here with me. Perhaps some day we shall work side by side but it cannot be just yet. You are still only seventeen, you know. Just a child! Besides, it's a good thing you are there for your mother; I know how concerned she is about Edward keeping safe and she is prone to fretting. Please give her my love and ask her not to worry more than is absolutely necessary.

I am sorry that Jasper had to leave and I hope that it is not too hard for you while he is gone. He will be alright, you know, I'm sure of it. You say you 'know' these things but I have a trick or two up my sleeve. While I'm sure you will worry incessantly, there is no need to sicken yourself with anxiety. I have watched the nurses here save many a life and I am convinced that Jasper will benefit significantly from their care if ever he needs it. Please, Alice, try not to be afraid. I wish I could be there to comfort you, to reassure you, but it is so much harder with the Atlantic between us! You have to have faith that everything will be fine. It's the only way.

I have sadly not yet had a chance to see Edward as he is still at the frontline. When he is given leave or billeted then we might have an opportunity to meet. If that should occur then I assure you that I would relay every particular as to his welfare. As it is, he has written that he is well and that is all the information I have. Faith, remember, Alice?

Remember me to my father and pray that this war will end soon so that we can all come home.

Yours,

Bella

Mrs Elizabeth Masen
Forks
6th May 1918

My dear Edward,

How are you? I hope that you are keeping warm and well fed and that life as a soldier is not treating you too hard. Your father and I think of you often and we wonder what you are up to. Sometimes I think it must be very exciting to be in France, being a soldier and fighting the Germans to protect us all. Other times I think that I should not like it all as I should get so homesick. We are very proud of you, though, my brave boy.

Do you need any more socks? Alice and I knit and sew diligently everyday to make clothes for our soldiers overseas and I would be pleased to send them to you if you require more. We do the little we can to help. Your father is very busy with his work and fishing but sends his fond regards.

Charlie Swan has been spending much more time at our house since dear Bella went off to France and we often talk of how we miss her. I am quite overjoyed that you and Bella are sweethearts as we love the pair of you dearly. I think that a spring wedding would be lovely and I'm sure that the war cannot go on that much longer. When they are finished fighting then you shall both come home and be married in the church in town. I will invite the whole neighbourhood and it will be a glorious affair. I do wish the war would end soon!

I have a lunch with some other ladies from town so I must go now, my dear. Please do write to me as I so want to hear about how you are doing. Do that for your mother, won't you?

Write soon, my precious boy, and I'm certain I shall see you before long. Surely the war is almost over?

Your loving Mother

Nurse Swan
Corbie
15th May 1918

Dear Edward,

I seem to miss you especially today. Perhaps it is the fact that it is approximately three months ago that I last saw you and that the weight of this realisation presses down me. Perhaps it is simply that I love you more each day. Either way, I want to see your face more than ever this evening.

Today has been a quiet day as far as I'm concerned. We only lost two men, a rare occurrence around here, and few have come in. There seems to be a lull around the front at this time and fewer soldiers are fighting and getting hurt. I try not to worry unnecessarily but it almost seems to me that the Generals are engaged in preparation. For what, I cannot be sure, but I know that it cannot be good news for the soldiers who must do their bidding.

I see too many young boys, barely my own age, who do not know what they fight for. It breaks my heart to hear them cry out, begging not to be sent back to the trenches, screaming for their mothers. Some die and those who do not are patched up and sent back, despite their pleas. We cannot help them in that respect and Sister Walker assures me that it is out of our hands. It is not up to me who fights and who does not, but if it were I can assure you that the Generals would find their armies greatly reduced.

I could not believe it when I read your last letter where you talked of the time we took the apples from Mrs Pritchett's garden. Of course I remember! The scars I got from the lashing that night are not ones I shall forget easily! My father was so angry, I recall, that he threatened that you and I should not play together anymore, at which I cried so hard that my mother begged him to reconsider. The prospect of not seeing you so much was more terrible to me than any hiding. You've always been my world, and it was you who kept me together when she died. I can't believe that's more than five years ago now.

I had forgotten about catching my skirt as we scaled the fence. Of course, I remember how I got so impatient that I simply tore it free and kept climbing. My mother was incensed that I'd been so careless and stood over me while I mended it to her satisfaction. It was worth the trouble, though, for the look on Mrs Pritchett's face when she saw us bolt! At the time I was terrified but there is nothing like hindsight to bring new humour to a situation. She was a horrible, cranky woman, but I am sorry now if we upset her. That was never really my intention.

I could not believe it on reading your letter but, of course, you and Michael were once good friends. He was always very affable towards me, although a little clingy, perhaps, so I never understood why your estimation of him changed so rapidly. It was when we were fourteen or fifteen, was it not, that you two stopped being friends? Why was that? It is another little mystery that I have never solved.

I am truly sorry that he was killed and, I can tell you, it was a very great shock to hear of it. That was the first time I realised the true danger of the war and I almost wish I never had. It would be easier to function had I gone on believing that the war was nothing more than a great adventure, but Michael's death showed me the error in my thinking. Nothing has ever scared me so much as the idea that I might lose you. I couldn't survive that; really, I couldn't.

I hope that the rumour about your regiment being billeted soon is true. If I could see you then I could almost pretend that we are at home again. When the war is over, perhaps we could walk in the meadow by the brook again and sit under the shade of the trees as we did on so many summer days, eat an apple perhaps, although one procured by legal means. It seems like a simple ambition, but even that appears out of reach right now.

Now there remains nothing further to say than that I love you, as always. That does not change, even when all else around me does.

Love,

Bella

Charlie Swan
Forks
10th May 1918

Dear Bella,

I wanted you to have a note from your old man so that you know that all is well here. I am busy enough but not too much so as to make you worry, and I spend my weekends fishing happily with Ed Masen. I'm fine, Bells, honestly.

I hope that you are alright all the way over in France and, while I understand that you are not a child anymore, I cannot help but worry about you a bit. I'm not sickening myself, though, so don't get anxious. I can look after myself and, besides, Mrs Shirley is even stricter than you. She makes sure I eat and rest well and you'd have your work cut out to be as stubborn as her!

I miss you, Bells. It's not the same round here without you. The house is much quieter and feels like there's something lacking in the still rooms. Mrs Shirley makes it cheerful for me and I am quite comfortable, but she will never be you.

That's all now, except to say that I love you, Bells. Remember your old man when you're off discovering new things.

From your affectionate Father

Private Masen
Amiens
28th May 1918

Mother,

Thank you for your letter and food parcel – it is much appreciated by all of us here in Amiens. I can assure you that I am perfectly well and that you needn't worry about me more than you deem absolutely necessary. I'm sure that will be more than enough.

If I were you I would most certainly not wish to be fighting in France. Our lives here are not enviable and you would be a fool to want to emulate them. Don't be anxious, though – there has been very little action here for some time so mostly our lives consist of playing card games and writing letters. You would not enjoy the monotony, I know – you like to be busy, don't you?

Thank you for the offer of socks but I am better supplied than any other soldier could ever hope to be. Send them instead to the Red Cross who will happily receive and distribute any donations. Your efforts will not go unappreciated, I promise you.

I am pleased to hear that Mr Swan does not spend his evenings alone and I'm sure Bella will be glad to discover the same. But please, Mother, do not speak to Bella of marriage or spring weddings. I know you are eager but we are not engaged and even if we were, this is no time to be planning a grand wedding. Please stop speculating about such things; I assure you that if I ever decide to get married, you will be the first to know.

I hope that you, Father and Alice are all keeping well and try not to worry about me too much. I'll be fine, you know – I've always been resilient.

Love,

Edward

Private Whitlock
Compiègne
23rd May 1918

Dear Bella,

I am writing to you so that you know that I am alright. I'm not sure what accounts you might have heard of my wellbeing from Alice, but I can assure you that I am quite as well as I can be under the circumstances. She is rather prone to worry and exaggeration, I fear, and I do not want you to get the wrong impression about my position at present.

My regiment is billeted in a town a few miles away from the frontline while we undergo the final stages of our training, and even from this distance we can see and hear the shells falling on our own and enemy lines. The sporadic chimes of distant explosions keep me awake sometimes, like a macabre pulse counting down the minutes until I face the guns myself.

I have never been a fortunate man as such, Bella, and I confess that I have few hopes of being lucky in this war. I shall fight with constancy and courage, if I can summon it up, but that is all I have to offer. Please, don't breathe a word of this to Alice for I think it would undo her, but I suspect that I might not make it through this war. If I should become just one on a long list of casualties, please promise me that you will take care of Alice. Don't let her come to any harm; keep her well and happy and safe for me, won't you? If I cannot do it myself then you are the next best person – together with Edward, of course.

Alice told me about the two of you but I had already seen enough to guess for myself. I hope you don't mind that I know your secret – although I suppose it is not so secret anymore – and I wish you every happiness. I hope that you two have a long and happy life together, as I know that you deserve it better than anyone. The two of you will come through this war, I can just feel it.

So long, Bella. I'll let you know if there's any news from either the front or at home but in the mean time, look after yourself. You nurses are doing a great job with our men and we need you now more than ever. I know you won't let us down.

Jasper

Private Masen
Amiens
29th May 1918

Dearest Bella,

I'm not at all surprised that you miss me so much. I am incredibly lovable! I miss you, too, and I need no reason to do so. Loving you is reason enough.

My part of the frontline has been quiet too, now, for some time and it makes me slightly uneasy, I confess. It is distinctly possible that another important offensive is being planned, but there is nothing I can do to confirm or deny that. We, the mere foot soldiers, are not privy to the plans of the puppet masters.

I'm glad you remember our escapade with Mrs Pritchett's apples. That was one of my proudest boasts for many years! Eclipsed only, perhaps, by the time we snuck out of the classroom window when Mrs Baker was teaching Geography. I've never laughed so hard in my entire life as I did that afternoon.

It's true, Michael Newton and I were once friends and I'm surprised you had forgotten. It was not so long ago. I never thought I'd tell you this, but the reason we fell out was that we had a fatal difference of opinion. You're right; we were fifteen years old when it happened and both growing up rather quickly. I began to notice the way he was looking at you differently (please don't think badly of me for telling you this) and I was unhappy with the direction his thoughts were taking. I knew him well enough to know that he was harbouring feelings for you and I was, childishly, angry about that.

One afternoon, after school, I confronted him and he admitted that he admired you, and told me that he wanted to ask you to be his sweetheart. I can't remember exactly what my reply was, but I'm sure it was not particularly cordial. He took that to be a challenge and, assuming that I was also competing for your affections, lashed out at me. When the groundskeeper pulled us apart ten minutes later, we were both sporting black eyes and bruised egos. I was too ashamed to tell you that I had got into a fight over you when I had no claim over you myself, but I fancied I was protecting you.

I'm sorry if you find this offensive in any way but you asked for the truth. At the time I did not recognise what I was feeling when it came to you – although I knew, of course, that you were pretty and that I wanted to spend all my time with you. I was foolish then; you are nothing short of beautiful and if I could, I would never leave your side. I can't believe I wasted two years through my own stupidity.

Bella, part of your last letter terrified me and I need to be sure that you didn't mean it. You said that you could not survive without me, but I need you to take that back. I need to know that, should anything happen to me, you would be alright, that you would be strong. I need to know that you would not wallow and throw away your life – you have so much in front of you, Bella. You have so many things to do and so many people to meet and I could not take any of that away from you. You must promise me this. Please, Bella, I need you promise me that you'll survive, no matter what. Do this one thing for me, please?

I know that I made you a promise and I still have every intention of keeping it. I promised that I would come back to you and I will, you can count on me. I won't let you down.

I love you, my Bella.

Edward

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I do my utmost to get back to everyone who makes the effort to let me know what they think. I really appreciate every review!

Yet another thank you to Cullenista for her help on this chapter :) She never lets me down.

I would love it if you would drop me a quick line for my troubles with this chapter - what do you think of the format? I mean, it's not a regular thing, but do you think it worked?

Go on, you know what to do :)