June 14
I spent the evening trying to smooth the crystal vase on the coffee table, my hands trembling just a little. The flat my Nana, Nellie Anderson, lives in always smells of fresh scones and a faint waft of lavender that seems to linger in the air forever. Even at seventyseven, she carries a strict elegance, still putting the final touches on the house before a guest arrives.
Please, Nana, dont interrogate him with that sharp stare of yours, I pleaded, halflaughing. David is shy, and you could burn him through with just a glance.
Nellie gave a small smile, adjusting the lace shawl draped over her shoulders. If David is worthy of you, my eyes wont frighten him. And if he isnt then even more so. Relax, my dear. Ive lived long enough to stop scaring young men.
The doorbell rang. I rushed to answer it, and on the doorstep stood David Clarke, holding a handsome bouquet and wearing a slightly guilty smile. He was tall and athletic, his gaze open, his manners calm.
Come in, meet my Nana, Nellie, I announced, holding my breath.
David stepped into the sitting room, extended the flowers and bowed politely. A pleasure, Mrs Anderson. Emily has spoken of you so often.
Nellie, standing in the centre of the room, seemed to freeze. She didnt reply to the greeting. Her usually keen, assessing eyes softened, looking past David as if into some distant past. A faint smile lingered on her lips, then changed to a look of genuine astonishment.
Grandma? I called, a little panicked.
Nellie shivered, then, as if in a dream, reached slowly for the bouquet.
Excuse me, dear youve surprised me. Thank you for the flowers. Very kind.
David sensed my awkwardness and exchanged a quick glance with me. I simply shrugged. The evening began oddly. Nana sat with her tea, unusually silent, not asking her trademark probing questions. She watched David intently: how he held his cup, the way he laughed, the way he tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. My mind racedwhat if she doesnt like him?
But David, true to his nature, kept his composure. He talked about his work, cracked a joke about how Emily and he first met at a dog show. The atmosphere gradually loosened.
Back in your day, Mrs Anderson, did gentlemen ever walk to you on foot? he teased, picking up a biscuit.
Nellie brightened instantly. Why not? We did. In fact, once she trailed off, then fixed David with that piercing stare again. Forgive my bluntness, David, but did any of your relatives ever serve as pilots? Perhaps from the flying school at RAF Cranwell?
David raised an eyebrow. No, actually. My family are engineers and doctors. Why do you ask?
Nellie lowered her eyes, hiding a smile. Just a feeling. You have an extraordinary looklike a young man from my past. His name was Alex. He was a cadet when I was studying nursing. Same build, same eyes and a dimple on his cheek when he smiled.
I watched them both, amazed. I had always thought David was photogenic, but to remind me of anyone
What happened to Alex? David asked gently.
Life tore us apart, Nellie sighed. He was posted to the Far East, and I stayed here. At first we wrote letters, then the letters stopped. First loves rarely last long, but they stay with you forever.
She rose, returned with a small, yellowed photograph. In it a slender young woman in a beautiful dress stood beside a man in an air force uniform. He had his arm around her shoulders, both laughing carefree.
David and I leaned over the picture. Grandma, he really does look like David! I exclaimed. Spot on!
David studied the photo, his expression turning respectful. Theres a strong resemblance, he said. It seems I have the honour of looking like a very respectable man.
Nellies eyes softened further, now filled with a warm, almost motherly tenderness. You know what, Emily? I like your David very much. He has honest eyes, just like Alexs.
The night slipped past midnight. Instead of interrogating David, Nana asked him about his life as a wise conversationalist, sharing memories of her youth. When they finally left, she embraced David and whispered in his ear, Take care of her. Be happy together.
Outside, I pressed close to David. I was so nervous. She practically adopted you as her own.
David smiled thoughtfully. It feels responsible, doesnt it? I feel I must live up to the trust not only of you but also of the man in that photograph. Its a strange feeling.
I like it, I said. Now we have our own family legendhow Nanas first love returned to us through you.
We walked hand in hand through the quiet streets, the glow of the street lamps casting long shadows. From the fifthfloor flat, a silhouette of an elderly woman watched us, her smile lingering as she sent a quiet blessing toward the future.
Nellie stayed by the window until our figures disappeared into the night. The flat fell into a gentle hush, broken only by the soft ticking of an old mantel clock. She returned to the table where the photograph lay, lifted it, and ran a fingertip over its surface.
Alex what a meeting, she murmured. Not facetoface, but a gentle echo.
She sank into her armchair, and memories of longago summers flooded her mind: apple trees in blossom at the boarding school, his bright eyes as he handed her a modest bouquet of lilies of the valley. Their farewell at the station, his strong embrace, the scent of his uniform, promises to write every day. Letters arrived thick and elegant at first, then grew sparse, then stopped altogether. She waited a year, then married another, had a daughter, lived a long, contented life. Yet that firstlove scar never fully healed.
Now, after all these years his smile, his build, that dimple. Its as if a ghost returned to check on me, she thought, a wistful smile forming.
She was never sentimental; life had taught her pragmatism. Yet this unexpected encounter stirred something deep, not selfpity but astonishment at fates quirks.
The next morning my mother, LauraNellies daughtercalled. How was it yesterday? Did Nana grill David with a questionandanswer session? she teased.
Mom, you wont believe it! She practically blessed him at the door! Turns out David looks exactly like her first love, the pilot Alex. She even showed us the photo. Hes a spitting image! I laughed.
There was a brief silence on the other end. Alex? A pilot? Lauras voice tightened. From that old leatherbound album?
Yes, I replied. She knows about him?
A bit, she said dryly. Fine, congratulations. Say hello to David for me.
I hung up, a little bewildered by my mothers restrained tone.
Meanwhile, Nellie, driven by a sudden impulse, opened the back drawer of her old chest. Inside lay not only the leather album but also a small bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbonletters she hadnt read in years. She hesitated, then untied the ribbon and pulled out the most recent one, dated the year she married Lauras father. It was from Alexs comrade, a fellow pilot, informing her that Alex had perished in a test flight. The news had arrived long after her life had taken a different path. Grief, resentment, guiltall those feelings she had long buried resurfaced.
She traced the yellowed paper with her fingertips. So we meet again, Alex, she whispered. Your smile, your laugh now they sit beside my granddaughter. Perhaps this is your continuation?
A knock sounded at the door. Nellie startled, hid the letters and album, and went to answer. On the threshold stood Laura, looking concerned.
Mom, Ive just spoken to Emily. She told me everything.
Come in, Lara, Nellie said, letting her daughter in. What did she say? About David?
Yes, Laura said, sitting at the kitchen table. I understand its touching, your memories, but dont you think youre idealising? You told me Alex left you, stopped writing.
Nellie met her daughters gaze. She could always sense the undercurrent of jealousy Laura felt towards that first, unfulfilled love. Laura, the daughter of a pragmatic marriage, lacked the dramatic passions of her mother.
He didnt leave, Lara, Nellie replied softly but firmly. Alex died. I only received that letter from his friend after I was already married to your father.
Lauras eyes widened. He died? Why never tell me?
Why would I? To spare you the thought that your mother might have chosen another life? No. I lived the life I had, and I have no regrets. The truth stayed with me until yesterday, when it meant nothing to me any more.
Laura sat, absorbing the revelation. Her hurt softened, replaced by a strange mix of pity and respect.
Sorry, Mum. I didnt know
Its all right, dear. David is a good lad. I see through people. He mirrors the brightest person I ever knew. I want Emily to have a better story than mine. Understand?
Laura nodded, and for the first time in years she embraced her mother genuinely, tightly.
That evening Emily and David returned for dinner. Nellie watched them bustling in the kitchen, laughing, whispering, preparing the roast. She caught Davids dimple again, smiled quietly.
Look, Alex, she thought, addressing the youthful pilot within her memories. Our lives have tangled once more, on these odd roads. And perhaps, its all for the best.
Emily slipped her arm around Nellies shoulders. What are you thinking about, Nana?
Happiness, Nellie replied. Sometimes it arrives from a direction you never expect. Treasure it, she nodded toward David. Cherish every moment.
Emily pressed her cheek against Nellies silvered hair. I will, Nana. I promise.
David, meanwhile, pulled a fresh apple crumble from the oven, its golden top glimmering under the kitchen light, his smile identical to the one captured in the faded photograph.
