Sunday 27 November 2011 - The Letter

Where should I start? Some would say the start, others would advocate the end. Unfortunately with the story I want to tell the significance of events at the start is far more striking if one knows how it all ended. On the other hand, the end can only be made sense of if you know what led to this particular culmination. So, compromise, a start in the middle.

We sat there in silence, her and I. We'd been travelling too long to bother with small talk anymore. For that matter pretty much all big talk was exhausted too, like us; well certainly like me. She was so different, nothing seemed to tire her, at least not for long. As I sat thinking this the melody from far back came to my ears as she started to softly hum. I let it wash through me and carry me back to what seemed like an age ago, knee deep in snow in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square; I always loved the place. Ever since I first visited with my Uncle when I must have been about four. The odd feeling of calm despite being right in the middle of London was one I found indescribable. On this occasion though there was no time to take it all in and enjoy; perhaps at another time, in another life, the two of us could have been here under very different circumstances. The thought did briefly cross my mind, I will always wonder if by any chance it also crossed hers.

That melody that brought me back to this day was first heard whilst we waited below one of the large stone lions. It was the third week of December and the snow was falling thick and fast. She shivered in that cute little way I'd come to know and love but refused to accept the offer of my coat. We had been waiting since the early hours of the morning, it had been cold then and it had only been getting colder. The snow was knee-deep and rising, everyone else had had headed inside long ago; the tourists had vanished, the merchants dispersed, even the pidgeons had left to find some shelter. The cold was memorable but so was that haunting melody that carried through the cold, crisp winter air and stuck with us for the rest of our fateful voyage.

By this point you're probably wondering who she is, this girl I have become besotted with. You're probably wondering why, after five weeks of travelling together we're standing knee-deep in snow in Central London. And now you're probably also wondering why we have been travelling together for five weeks. I suppose I should start at the start.