"And it was lonely, to yearn, all alone." - Lois Lowry, Son
10 November 1940
It felt strange to come home to no new letters after so many months of getting them without fail. With no letters to read and respond to, Alice was at a bit of a loss.
Oh, sure, she had school and work and her books, but she also liked a routine; Matthew's letters had become one and having an abrupt change to that routine was jarring. So, she reread his old ones, and tried to figure out where he was in the few weeks leading up to the end of term and the holidays.
A steaming cup of tea entered her line of vision and Alice looked up from her notes and textbooks to see the one and only Mrs. Dot Collins smiling softly.
"I thought you might like a cuppa since it looks like you're not letting up on studying any time soon."
"Thank you, Mrs. Collins. Exams are next week, but then I'm free until next year."
"That's good. Would you like some help? Or would you like to be left alone?"
"Alone, please, but thank you for the tea."
"Of course, just bring the empty cup back to the kitchen if you remember to drink this one before it goes cold," the older woman teased lightly - smiling at Alice's faint blush. "You'll do great on the exams, Miss Alice, you're so smart."
"I… thank you, Mrs. Collins."
Alice picked up the cup and saucer once Mrs. Collins left, and leaned back in her chair - she should take a break and the lure of a well-prepared cuppa was too much for her to resist even as the days grew longer and hotter. She'd come to know Mrs. Collins quite well over her tenancy at 221B The Esplanade, and the two of them shared some things in common even at their difference in age and life choices. Mrs. Collins had helped her open up more, and to relax once she'd come to live at Wardlow, and she was a quieter companion than Miss Fisher.
Savoring the tea, Alice reviewed her notes and felt a little more confident in her knowledge and intelligence; she'd still continue studying right up until the night before exams started, but overall she was quite satisfied with how much she'd learned over the course of the term. And Mac was proud of her achievements so far, so that kept Alice striving even higher. She finished off her tea right as she reached the last of her notes, and it was then that her stomach reminded her she should eat something, so Alice got up from the dining room table and wandered back into the much more plain kitchen.
"Mrs. Collins?"
The woman in question sat at the light wooden table reading a postcard with a fond smile, but she looked up at Alice's call.
"Do you need something?"
"I came to bring the teacup back, and I was wondering if there was something I could pull together for lunch?"
"Of course, Miss Alice, I was just about to make some ham, cheese, and mustard pickle sandwiches for the Superintendent and Miss Fisher; how about I make a few for you as well? I know you've come to enjoy them over the years."
"Are you sure? I don't want to make you do more work."
"Nonsense," Mrs. Collins flapped a hand, "we've got plenty to go around. How about you refill your tea and sit at the table while I whip up a few?"
Alice did as she was told and inhaled the scent of the freshly steaming cup of tea before her eye caught sight of the postcard Mrs. Collins had been reading. The postmark wasn't one she recognized, but she did know the neat hand of one Detective Inspector Hugh Collins.
"They've reached Bombay, or near it I think. At least they had by the time he sent that," Mrs. Collins spoke up from the counter, smiling as Alice felt her cheeks warm. "Hugh says all the men are doing alright, though he does mention yours is reading and writing quite a bit."
Her cheeks grew hotter hearing Matthew referred to as hers, but she smiled nonetheless.
"I'm glad to hear it, it's… been awhile since one of his letters."
"You'll hear from him soon, I'm sure," Mrs. Collins patted her shoulder as she placed a plate of the sandwiches in front of Alice. "Not to sound like Dr. Macmillan or Miss Fisher, but I've noticed how much you've been writing to him, and… I think it's good for you."
"He's been a good pen pal," Alice admitted as Mrs. Collins continued to putter around the kitchen - preparing a basket to take to City South. "And a surprising friend to find."
"Good, friendships like that are something we all need."
"I… I am worried though."
"What for?" the woman paused.
Alice sighed and played a little with the sandwiches in front of her, "I'm afraid of really getting attached… and then losing him. I know it's a possibility and… I don't know, it scares me."
"Oh, Alice," Mrs. Collins came over and gently curled her hands around Alice's, "that is the risk we take when we open up our hearts to others. I took it when I decided to stay on with Miss Fisher, when I was going out with Hugh, and when I became friends with each and every person that's passed through these doors. To have friends, which is the basis of every relationship - romantic or not, means we have to risk getting hurt. Matthew's letters have brought out a side of you I've not seen before; you laugh more, you interact more with Clara and Edith, and you remember to take time away from your studies… he's so very good for you and I suspect you're the same for him… but yes, there is a risk - a very big risk - that you might lose him."
"So… I should let this continue? Even if I might not ever see him again?"
"Especially because you might not see him again. If it still worries you, just think of it as giving Matthew a piece of home and normalcy until… I don't know, until you feel better - more settled - about your feelings towards him."
Again, Alice felt her cheeks warm, but she could see the logic in Mrs. Collin's words; Matthew had become dear to her in such a short time (had it really only been seven months since they'd met?) and she wanted to see where their letters went.
"Everything with the heart is a risk," Mrs. Collins smiled, "and the beauty of life is deciding whether or not to take it."
Alice squeezed Mrs. Collins' hands with a smile, "Thank you, Mrs. Collins."
"You're very welcome."
26 December 1940
Alice slowly and quietly closed the back door behind her - utterly spent after a long shift at the diner - and all she wanted to do was somehow make it upstairs and sleep for a day (or more). Turning away from the door, she stopped short at the sight of a letter waiting on the kitchen table next to a plate of biscuits.
"That came for you," Mr. Butler smiled as he exited the pantry - getting ready to start breakfast for the household. "Want me to draw you up a hot foot bath and glass of milk to enjoy as you read it, Miss Alice?"
"Is it from… from him?"
"It's his handwriting," he nodded, "and felt like he had a lot to say - there's quite a bit of heft to it."
Alice sucked both of her lips in between her teeth and chewed on them in thought; the letter both called to her and kept her away… Was he alright? Was he hurt? Where did they put him?
"Bath and milk?" Mr. Butler asked quietly.
Silently, she nodded and settled into one of the chairs to remove her work shoes and socks (her stockings were reserved for special occasions these day since they were hard to come by already); as she pulled the envelope towards her, Mr. Butler put the kettle on to heat up before he poured her a small glass of milk.
"Thank you, Mr. B."
"I'll be back in with the bath shortly, Miss."
Smiling as the butler left, Alice turned Matthew's letter (Mr. Butler was right, this was the thickest letter she'd ever gotten from him) over in her hands and noted the postmark from Egypt as she did; pulling the many sheets from it, she pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smile at the sight of his familiar handwriting - ignoring the way her stomach flipped a little at the slanted way he'd written her name.
It had been postmarked as one letter, but as she read, Alice saw that it was a series of smaller letters, dated from October to December, written to her on his voyage from Australia to Egypt - full of the boredom at sea, the stop in Deolali (near Bombay), and his reactions and thoughts about Persuasion as he devoured the last half of the book (and then re-read the whole thing because he loved it that much). He wrote to say that all of them had arrived in Egypt well - with some minor seasickness amongst some of the men - and were being sent up to Palestine for training, but he wanted to get the letter sent off before then.
'I hope you've enjoyed my novel of a letter, and that you survived your exams with little trouble (though both you and I know you passed with flying colors), and that the holidays bring you joy. Enclosed is the address you can send your letters to now that we're abroad, they'll pass them all on as they get them, regardless of where we're stationed. At least now you don't have to worry about waiting so long in the future for letters. Your Friend As Always, Matthew.'
Mr. Butler had come and gone - pouring the hot water into a basin for her to slip her aching feet into - but Alice hardly recognized his presence as she devoured every word Matthew penned to her.
Smiling as she read it all over again, Alice's heart was full and light at the same time; she wanted to go start on a response right away, but the exhaustion from work won out. Alice polished off the shortbread biscuits and milk as the water in the basin cooled and she gently dried her feet on the small towel thoughtfully left for her; carefully pouring the contents of the basin down the drain, she left it and the other dishes by the sink and padded her way upstairs past the rest of the sleeping household. She put Matthew's letter on her nightstand - ready to be read again when she woke later - and stripped out of her uniform before flopping onto her bed and wiggling her way under the covers to sleep the day away.
Matthew's photo on her nightstand watched over her as her eyes grew heavy, and Alice fell asleep to the memory of his voice and dimpled grin on the pier - dreaming of the day he might come home.
Soft knocking woke her some time later; as she rubbed her eyes and sat up, Dot Collins entered with a tray of food.
"You missed dinner, but I know you probably want to get back to sleep so I kept it light with some roasted chicken, veggies, and a small piece of Mr. Butler's chocolate cake since I know you're partial to it."
"Thank you, Mrs. Collins," she yawned as Mrs. Collins put the tray on her lap. "How were the rest of your holidays?"
"Good, I took the children to see Hugh's family - Mum insisted we see them on Christmas Eve and go to mass, so we had plenty of time with the Collinses. My Jack doesn't particularly like his Nana Collins, but thankfully he knew not to say anything. The girls did like getting all the attention, however."
Alice laughed quietly as she dug into her meal, "I'm sure they did. They're what… seven now?"
"Beth is eight, and Abby is six, almost seven."
"Good ages."
"Rough ages," Mrs. Collins sighed, even as Alice hid a smile behind her glass. "But thankfully school is still happening and I can get a little peace in the day."
"As Phryne's companion, I doubt you get very much."
"Oh, you," Mrs. Collins shook her head with a fond smile. "You've gotten a lot more cheeky compared to when you first moved in."
"Blame your employer."
Mrs. Collins laughed and urged Alice to finish up her dinner; out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mrs. Collins lean forward to get a better look at Matthew's latest letter.
"I see you got your own Christmas gift."
Her cheeks warmed a little, but she nodded, "They've reached Egypt and are going up to Palestine for more training… I'm just glad to hear from him. I'll work on my reply to him tomorrow and figure out how to package his books to him."
"You write the letter, leave the packaging to me and Mr. Butler," Mrs. Collins smiled and gently patted her cheek. "Now, finish up your cake and get some rest."
Alice did as she was told - warmth filling her when Mrs. Collins tucked her in and pressed a soft kiss to her head; that was a new experience for Alice, but Dot Collins would mother the toughest, roughest person she came across, so Alice wasn't all that surprised. It felt nice, and she liked the extra bit of… comfort it gave as she drifted back off to sleep.
