My Dearest Alaya,
I just left you at the station in York. It was wonderful to spend time with you, you are my favorite person in the world. It was such a temptation to just not get on the train to Edinburgh to return to our home in London.
As soon as I get into Edinburgh station I will send a telegram to say I head to Brussels in two days.
I felt guilty not telling when were together, but I didn't want to talk about me leaving when we just arrived. I wanted to focus on us being together, in the moment. Please do not be mad or upset. I concentrated on listening to your voice, kissing you, being near and it brought me such happiness. I didn't want to think about anything else.
I will be heading to Brussels, I wish I could give you more details.
Please know I have played scenario after scenario in my mind and each end up me no longer being a physician. It is unacceptable result. I
will never work in Great Britain again as a doctor. A black mark will be left next to my name. Bribery? Absolutely. What do you suggest I do? Not
be a doctor? Join the family business and be a typist?
Would you ask Mother Jenny to become a photographer and nothing else?
Would you ask Mother Vastra to stay home to become an artist and nothing else?
I would not ask you to start a business to make custard pies.
I have more skills than a typist. You could not tame my skills as a surgeon.
From now I will write updates and send only when I have safe delivery.
The bodies line up outside the hospitals waiting family claim. Let me be direct ...
If something should happen to me keep to your plans. Keep your mothers safe. Also include updates to the safe deposit box let my mother know I was brave and strong.
Most importantly allow yourself, my dearest Alaya to heal, and be open to love again. You shall find love again. I do not want to pursue this conversation any longer, it makes my heart break. We know the possible outcomes of war and we are not immune.
Your Fiona