Hello lovelies! I've finally been able to post this next chapter and I hope you enjoy!
November 11, 1924
"Florian, come look!" Antoine called from the bottom of the stairs, "The parade is starting!"
It had been nearly five years since Florian and Antoine returned to their village on the outskirts of Dinant. In that time, they worked to repair the old abandoned houses in the center of town. They now occupied the smallest of them: a quaint cottage with little more than a parlor, kitchen, bedroom, and attic. Florian had claimed the attic outright, though Antoine would happily have given up the larger room downstairs. But Florian adored the view from the upper window and could think of nothing better than to sit at the edge of his bed and watch the boats drift down the River Meuse.
It was from this window that Florian glanced out onto the small street below.
A group of children passed by, tossing flowers in the air and dancing in circles as a horse pulled along a cart decorated with red, black, and yellow ribbons. Inside sat three trumpeters, blaring out a tune he barely recognized from his childhood. He saw Antoine dart out amongst the children and take the smallest in his arms, twirling the dear lad in the air.
Florian laughed, but it was a sad sort of laugh. He loved his dear little village but, ever since his return, he felt as though something was missing from his life.
He scoffed to himself. He knew exactly what was missing.
"The Forgotten Four Years", as Antoine had so poetically dubbed them, were completely gone, forever.
Try as he might, Florian could not remember a single moment from his time in London.
But he wanted to. Desperately.
Florian sighed and looked back down at the letter in his hand. It was a letter he received over ten years ago. He had discovered it amongst his belongings after he was discharged from hospital and now he carried it with him wherever he went.
10 August 1914
Dear Sir,
We are delighted to inform you that lodgings have been acquired for you. A generous offer was recently made to us by a Miss. Josephine Mardle, who will be happy to welcome you to her home at 88 Burdon Road, W1, London, England. We have sent word to her about your situation and she expects you at any time. However we do suggest you write to her in advance so she may better prepare for your arrival.
We at the Belgian Relief Charity wish you a pleasant journey across the Channel and pray the unpleasantness which brings you here will not last much longer.
It ended there.
Josephine Mardle...Josephine Mardle...he read the name over and over again.
He remembered writing to her the moment he could, explaining his travel plans and expected day of arrival. He'd been anxious to meet her, the woman who would give him a home. He could remember parts of his voyage across the channel, but after that he could only remember the house with the smiling woman.
The smiling woman and Josephine Mardle were one and the same, of that much he was certain.
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since the day he awoke in the hospital.
He couldn't explain it, but every fiber of his being yearned for her. She was in his dreams, smiling that bright smile, her kind blue eyes eating away at his soul.
He shuddered.
It was silly to think of her like that.
Even from his brief memory he could tell she was much older than him. And besides...
"Florian!" Antoine's voice shouted as his footsteps pounded up the narrow staircase.
"One moment, please," he muttered, scrambling to hide the letter in the English dictionary he held.
"The parade has passed you by, my friend," Antoine announced when he entered the cramped attic, instinctually ducking to avoid the wooden ceiling planks which jutted down dangerously close to unsuspecting foreheads.
"I saw most of it from here," Florian assured him.
Antoine shook his head, "I hate seeing you in these moods. You need to get out! Meet people! Meet ladies..." he teased.
Florian shrugged, "I don't think I'm ready for that quite yet."
"Come on! It's been years..." Antoine moaned, "You're not getting any younger!"
"I'm only 34, Antoine," Florian reminded his friend, "I have plenty of life ahead of me."
Antoine sighed, "I know, I know..." he patted Florian's shoulder, "But you can't do anything with that life if you don't move on."
"I have moved on. Trust me," he stated, casually tossing the dictionary onto his bed as though to make a point and, as though to defy him, the letter slipped out onto the floor.
Glancing between Florian and the paper, Antoine raised an eyebrow, "Oh, really?" he quickly picked it off the ground and began to read the letter aloud in a horrid English accent, "Dee-ah s-ah, wee ah dee-lah-ted too in-fahm yoo th-aht wee -"
"Stop it! Stop!" Florian begged, trying to grab the letter back.
"Hmm blah blah blah," Antoine laughed as he fought off Florian, "Ah ree-sent ah-fah w-ahs made too ahs bah-ey -"
"I said stop!" Florian shouted when he finally caught hold of the letter and snatched it from his friend's hands.
Antoine stood in silence, staring at Florian as he tenderly smoothed over the crumpled paper.
"I am sorry..." he said quietly, "I had no idea it meant that much to you."
Florian sat on his bed and looked down at the letter.
"Look," Antoine muttered, taking a seat beside him, "You've been fighting this for years. Staying cooped up in this little village isn't helping, so maybe we need to make a change. New scenery and new faces might help you."
He pulled a miniature world map out of his breast pocket. Like Florian, he had his mementos.
The map was barely larger than a pocket handkerchief and the creases had rubbed holes along the equator and Atlantic Ocean. But the continents were clearly defined, as were all the major cities. To a much younger Antoine, dreaming of a world beyond the banks of the River Meuse, it was a treasure map.
"Pick any place in the world," he said, spreading the paper across their knees like a child looking over a picture book, " Anywhere you want. It may take some time to get the money but I can make it happen."
"Really?" Florian asked.
"Absolutely," Antoine insisted with a smile, "You may not remember saving my life, but I do. I can finally return the favor," he held out the map, "Now, where do you want to go?"
Florian's eyes watered as a grin crept to his face. He didn't even have to look at the map to know exactly where he needed to go.
"London."
There you have it folks.
Please write reviews!
I'm so busy with exams and papers, but if enough of you like the story, I'll try and post new chapters soon.