Army Base in Queensland

15 Sept 1940

Dear Alice,

You're even prettier than I remember, Almost Doctor Harvey. Thank you for the picture, the boys have left me alone (for now), but they did tease me quite a bit about writing to you even after the picture. I've enclosed a photo of my own, since you asked so nicely for one, I hope you don't get too much teasing. Unfortunately (for the boys) our letters back and forth aren't the kind of enjoyment they wanted to hear about, whereas I enjoy each letter I get from you. It's a new routine I'm starting to like; I wonder if their disinterest in discussions of fiction and family will change in the coming weeks.

The house in Ballarat isn't too much to shake a stick at, but it was home for most of my life. It's wonderfully built, Mum and Dad lived downstairs, Vera and I lived upstairs, with another guest room downstairs across from the master bedroom. Mum practically lived in the kitchen and backyard garden. (I still love the smell of freshly baked bread, biscuits, and freshly turned earth.) She taught both me and Vera to cook and garden, Vera excelled more with the cooking, whereas I was the only one to keep up with gardening past fifteen years old. The house creaks a lot nowadays, and the paint needs redoing inside and out, but it's wonderfully tucked away from the street so growing up it felt like a secret world. Mum lives there by herself now, and mostly on the first floor (I think she's turned the guest room into a study or sewing room, I didn't look too closely the last time I was there.)

What about you? You don't have to tell me about your childhood home if you don't want to, but what about where you're staying now?

I don't know when, but there are murmurs that we might leave within the month; when I know we're leaving, I'll let you know, but for now, the atmosphere has changed on base - heightened in a way it hadn't been before. They're still debating on whether we'll go to Africa or the Middle East, but it's very highly likely one of those two places - both Britain and France have colonies there, with Italy and Germany overtaking the French ones, it should be a fight to get them back.

You can tell Mac that I'd love to meet her properly whenever I'm in Melbourne next, if I've gained her favor then I'm all the more closer to gaining yours. I'd also love to meet this landlady of yours, that is if she allows young men to cross the threshold of her boarding house. As for sisters and nieces, they do keep me on my toes and it's come in handy with impertinent men under my command - though none of them are as crafty as Vera and Rose.

I've been getting further into our book, I've gotten through the long walk part and I think I'm finally understanding why people like Austen's novels. It's absolutely riveting, I want to know more, but I'm also wary since you said her family gets worse. Much like Anne, I dread her return to Bath at some point in the book. One line did stick out to me during the long walk portion (it helped that a younger you had underlined it at some point), and it reminded me of you.

"I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I have made up my mind, I have made it."

I admire Louisa's confidence and surety in herself, but something tells me she'll have a hard lesson in learning to be flexible. You, however, have already learned a lesson like that, I think. You don't have to tell me, but Anne reminds me of you with every page; you've survived something and come out a little worse for wear on the other side, but more sure of who you are as a person in the end. I admire you for it, but whatever happened to you can't have been fair, and I want to right it.

Of course, I think you might just frown at me for thinking of it - in fact, I'd say you're frowning right now as you read this. Instead of trying to right whatever wrongs you've been through, I will instead let you know that you can talk to me. After all, talking with someone not related by blood can help in the long run, as someone far smarter than me once said.

Your Friend,

Matthew

[enclosed with the letter is a brown sepia photo of Matthew in the same uniform he'd worn on their first meeting, staring directly into the camera with a stoic expression. On the back, Matthew has written: Matthew Lawson, 1940 To "face to face" conversations and satisfying curiosities - M.]


AN: head on over to AO3 to see the photo! - Dee