My darling,
Please don’t despair, I can’t bear the idea that you are giving up on them. Someone is bound to know something and will help. It’s all the chaos of war, everything is so slow. Do have faith, they will be so happy you are in London. It sounds as messy and loud as I imagine Paris to be and you caught up in it all. You really mustn’t doubt the decision. It is safer this way.
Can I share our news with you? Paul has returned. He walked straight into the shop as if it were four years ago and nothing much had changed. It was so strange I can’t tell you. The whole camp was released because the Germans were going east. I think he’s still in shock. He looks impossibly old, I almost didn’t recognize him and he has a full beard and his eyes seem darker now than before. We are all so pleased to have him back with us. I know he doesn’t want to talk too much about things but the village will heal him. Maman is so happy she could burst, she hums snatches of songs in the shop, our customers don’t know how to take it. It is wonderful.
Please let me know if I can do anything to help you. The rumours are that it will be over soon, the British are on their way, the Americans too, it really can’t be long now. I will pray for that day and keep writing to you in the meantime.
There are things I want to share with you, so desperately, but I want to see you in person, to be able to see the look in your eyes and feel your arms around me when you learn them. Please don’t blame me for concealing them.
Don’t give up hope,
Isabelle