August 2, 1918
Jan 7, 1918
My heart is hollow with longing to see your beautiful face once again, that is my only wish for this new year. It’s been so long, I’m afraid that you will have forgotten me. I don’t even know if you’re getting my letters. I’m assuming not, as I don’t believe you to be the kind of person who’d leave me wanting.
It’s this damn war. They don’t want word of desperate plight to get out. I understand why. Morale is at an all time low. There are only two things I want: to hold you in my arms again, and to eat a real meal, like our cook at Bray Manor makes.
I hope that you are well, my love. Though, for your safety, I do wish you’d gone back to Boston, or at least have stayed in England, but I admire you tenacity to help in the war efforts. Telephone operators are more important now than ever.
Until we meet again, my dearest.
Feb 18, 1918
Great news! I will be in Paris next month. I don’t have a lot of time, so I have to keep this letter short. I have no way of knowing if you are still there. My hope is great that I’ll see you soon!
With much love,
April 30, 1918
Alas, the stars did not align for us. How dreadfully unfair that the one time I’m in Paris, you are away in England!
As it was, I’d injured my arm, so perhaps I’m meant to see you again when I’m in full form. I wish you were getting my letters. I’m pretty sure you’re not. I’d write more if I knew, but except for being hungry, tired and worried, there’s not much to report.
Ginger read the letters from Daniel with a pang of fury. All this time Daniel had been writing to her and she wasn’t getting the letters. Clearly, he hadn’t been getting hers either.
The captain was so focused on control the emotions and actions of his agents, he’d forgotten they were human. Or, more likely, he hadn’t forgotten, he just didn’t care.
So why had he allowed for them to get through to her now?
Ginger opened the last and final letter.
It seems I’ve finally been given a bit of leave. Though my arm has healed, the cough I’ve suffered with for months has not. I’m sorry I never mentioned the ailment before, but I didn’t want you to worry.
The doctor here has convinced the captain over my crew, a determined fellow called Smithwick, that I won’t be much good to the army for much longer if I don’t get some rest.
Which means I’ll be in Paris again 3rd of August . Can I hope that I’ll find you there this time?
Ginger’s heart pinched, her mind grasping at the days date. August 2nd. Daniel would be in Paris tomorrow!
No time to write him back to let him know, assuming he’d get the letter anyway.
Tucking the precious letters into her satchel, Ginger headed out into the streets of Paris in search of Captain Smithwick. She had a bone to pick with him! And she needed information about Daniel, and how she could arrange to see him when he arrived.