The Parasol

Champion Hill, London

Summer 1922

My dearest Helen,

            I happened upon someone today. Jack and I met a school chum of his at the tennis courts. He brought his sister-in-law along so we could play mixed doubles. Miss Burke. When Geoffrey introduced us, she looked at me, into my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I worried I might die right there. I broke her gaze. I had to. I looked at the court and the park beyond. When I looked back at the girl, her eyes remained on mine.  

I couldn’t think, couldn’t hit, and played horridly. So horridly that Jack asked me on the way home if I was feeling alright. What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t tell him the truth. I could scarcely tell it to myself…

Helen, I think I can feel my heart beating again. I feared I never would, but now I find myself scared just the same. I want to see her again. Is that all right?

….

My dearest Helen,

Jack asked me tonight what I thought about Miss Burke, the woman I met at the tennis courts. I felt myself blush and before I could answer, he said, ‘I think Geoff hopes I fancy her.’ She’s very pretty, I said quickly. Jack said he wasn’t sure. She was perhaps too modern for him. ‘Like one of your friends, Anna,’ he said. Not that my friends and I were unattractive, he went on, we had simply far too grand of notions about a woman’s place. ‘I wager you, she’ll be unmarried at six and twenty, just like you,’ he said. I chose not to mention that he was as yet unmarried at five and twenty. Debating with Jack is like debating with the garden gate. It may swing to-and-fro but it never changes its position.

I counted to ten and welled up my courage (Remember how you taught me to do that?) Did he think Miss Burke might want to play tennis with me some day? She seemed a good player. Grandmother sleeps afternoons. I could escape to the park for a short while almost any day. Jack said he would ask Geoff (!)

…..

My Dearest,

I have great news! I hope you will think so, too.

Miss Burke and I are to play on next Wednesday! Jack and Geoffrey arranged it. Geoff said that his sister-in-law needs some kind of amusement – all she does is read books. Jack said it with disdain, as I am sure Geoffrey did, but I find it intriguing and beguiling. I wonder what kinds of books she reads.

Now as I sit here writing this, I can’t stop thinking of her. We, she and I, are going to play in (let me count) five days. It’s as if I’m a child and Wednesday is Christmas. I wonder how I shall survive until then.

…..

My Helen,

I shall never pass a better afternoon! I know that I shan’t. It would be impossible. I left the house late, then in my excitement over the day I forgot my tennis racquet, of all things, and had to go back to get it. I hated being so late and prayed that she wouldn’t leave, thinking I was not coming. I breathed a sigh when I saw her waiting for me. She turned and when she saw me she smiled the most brilliant smile. ‘I am sorry to be so late,’ I apologized. I think she said, ‘It was worth the wait.’ There are a thousand other things she might have said, probably said, like, “Nothing worse than a wait.’ Then she laughed and said that I had to give her the first three points as a punishment.

            We played for more than an hour before stopping. I won both sets. 6-3 and 6-1. Would she want to play again next week? I asked. She said she was worried because she lost that I wouldn’t want to play with her again. Don’t be silly, I said. I couldn’t tell her that I’d play with her again even if she hadn’t gotten one single point. Instead, I said, ‘So next Wednesday? Same time?’ I held my breath as I waited for her answer. She nodded and said she would see me then.

            Oh, Helen, it has been ages since I felt such giddiness.

….

My Dearest Helen,

            I don’t know why I remembered this just now. As Miss Burke and I played yesterday I saw two women walking in the park. I may not have taken notice except that one carried a red parasol. They walked closely together, lost in conversation. The parasol cast a rosy glow over them. I was envious, deeply envious. Of their ease. Of their conversation. When we changed sides, Miss Burke gestured to the women who we could see sitting near the bandstand and asked if I knew them. I did not. She said she thought one was the sister of a boy she used to know – he’d died in the War – but she wasn’t sure. I thought of you, of course. I always longed to bring you here, after the War was done. How wonderful it would have been to have our arms linked and simply stroll! Remember how you talked of us going to that place you called San Diego? Where it was always warm and the sun shone magnificently? So different from the dreariness in France?

            I closed my eyes just now to envision it. Helen, I am ashamed to say that it wasn’t your face that I saw, but Miss Burke’s. I wonder what it would be like to spend an afternoon walking and talking with her. No tennis court, no net dividing us. I doubt I shall ever find out.

…..

Dearest Helen,

            The days go so slow… My life is a regimented drudgery. I used to enjoy it. Caring for Grandmother, being able to use at least some of my nursing skills. Now, I think only of tennis and Miss Burke…

….

Dear Helen,

            We exchanged given names today, Miss Burke and I.  After we finished our match (I won 6-2 and 6-2), I said, ‘Nice match, Miss Burke.’ She said, ‘You’ve beaten me twice. Calling me Miss Burke seems far too formal. Might you call me by my given name? I’m Adah.’ ‘Adah,’ I said. I had never heard a more beautiful name. ‘And you are?’ she asked with raised eyebrows. I felt so stupid. How had I not given her my name? ‘Anna,’ I said. ‘I’m Anna.’ She smiled. Adah smiled. She looked into my eyes. Recognition seemed to ripple through her. She smiled again. “Anna Lynn? You’re Anna Lynn?’ she asked. ‘I watched you play when I was a girl. Before the War. You were spectacular!’ She spoke like an excited child. For the briefest instant images blazed through my mind – the boys, their blood, their cries, you, my sweet, sweet Helen, your blood, your cries. ‘That was a long time ago.’ I could say nothing else. After a pause she asked, ‘Next week?’ I nodded. We gathered our racquets and started to walk our separate directions. ‘Miss Lynn. I mean Anna?’ I heard her voice, Adah’s voice, say behind me. I turned. ‘You’re still spectacular,’ she said before turning and quickly walking off.

            I was oddly thankful that Grandmother needed me as soon as I arrived home. Her demands and an unexpected dinner with Jack didn’t leave me time to dwell on my curiously morose mood. I feel so torn, guilty. You. Adah. Helen, her name is Adah. Ah-Dah. Ahh… Like a sigh. I breathe her name over and over as I long to breathe her in. Little chance of that. She is not as I am, as you were. Couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be.

…..

Sweet Helen,

            My name on her lips. “Anna”. Like I had never heard it before. Like I’d been born anew, renamed. “Good hit, Anna.” It was so common, so simple and yet… All I heard was “Anna”. I must have stopped, suddenly in my own private heaven, for she said it again. Anna. But as a question this time. I struggled through my reverie to serve again. Still struck by the sound of her voice wrapped around the two syllables of my name, I let her reply bounce past me. I didn’t draw my racket back; I didn’t swing. I couldn’t so stuck I was on the wonder of it all. I thought to say, “Good hit, Adah.” But I feared my voice, my tone, would give away all that burned within me. I imagined her breath on my ear, my name barely a whisper. I shivered just now as I did this afternoon.

            I must stop. I mus’nt I, Helen? Mus’nt, I?

…..

Helen, beautiful Helen,

I hope you will forgive me. I said I never would, never would again. You were my one and only, my heart, my soul, my forever. But… (You have to know how I hate that “but”….). I am so sorry. I never intended any of this. This… Adah… I wish I could describe her but I fear that the words I should choose would be woefully inadequate. She is… Breathtaking, captivating.  I think you would like her. Helen, I think you would.

…..

Dear Helen,

I saw them again today. The women in the park. No red parasol, but I recognized them anyway. They strolled slowly, slower than last time, elbows and arms touching occasionally. They would quickly part, but I sensed a hesitation. They wanted more, each of them. And maybe they had more. Privately, I mean. And I didn’t think of you, of us. I looked across the net at Adah and all I could think was ‘more’.

We only speak of tennis, the weather, and the usual pleasantries. After these weeks, I still don’t know what kinds of books she reads.

I know what you would say – Have courage. Tell her, like you told me. ‘I fancy you, Anna. You would do well to fancy me.’ Remember that, Helen? You were so brash and yet so sweet. It was useless of me to try to resist you.

…..       

Dear Helen,

            I got some horrible new today! I shall not see Adah again for a while. Her family is going on holiday to Brighton and she must go with them. She said it almost apologetically.  I said that I have gotten used to our Wednesdays together and that I will miss her. She smiled and we parted with barely a good bye. I have to wonder if I said too much.

I am trying to convince myself that this holiday is for the best. The weather will be turning colder soon anyway and we will have to stop playing until next spring. I wish we had another way to see each other, but I have still been too cowardly to ask. If only you were here to push me forward and tell me what to say. Of course if you were here…

….

Dear Helen,

                  The woman was alone today, without the one who holds the parasol. As I was without Adah. I wondered about her, the woman. Was she as lonely as I? As unhappy as I? And I should have been happy. I beat Jack today. My game has improved. Jack says he let me win. He’ll never admit that a woman beat him fairly and squarely. Even his sister. Perhaps especially his sister. I celebrated, but not as sincerely as I might have for there was only one with whom I wanted to celebrate. Jack brooded the whole way home. I was secretly happy for his silence and his mood. He never guessed I was similarly morose, just for a very different reason.

                  I don’t know when I shall see her again, my Adah. I say that though she isn’t mine nor ever will be. Regardless, I like the thought of it. She as mine and I as hers. It and it alone brings a smile to my face.

….

Helen,

                  The post brought a letter today. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but the return address said Brighton. My heart leapt to my throat and I found I couldn’t breathe. I made an excuse to retire to my room. I sat and looked at the envelope a long while. I held it to my nose, hoping to catch the scent of her. I ran my hand over the writing, trying to feel her hand. My heart beat wildly as I pulled the letter out. I will copy it here exactly.

                  Dear Anna,

                        Is it alright that I have said that? Dear? For you are dear to me. I watched some people play tennis today and thought of you. I wondered if you ever thought of me. I know I have been gone awhile and I’m sure I have faded from your thoughts. They asked me to play, but I couldn’t. There is only one person that I want to play with. And that is you. I am due to return home next week and I was wondering, hoping really, that we might be able to play.

                                    As ever,

                                    Adah

                  Dear? I have to say that my heart did quite literally stop. I read and re-read her words until I had memorized them. I am newly brave. I swear I am. When I see her next week, I am going to ask. Will she see me apart from tennis? Without a net dividing us? Helen, I will imagine you by my side and I will not be afraid.

….

Helen,

                  Jack told me tonight that when Miss Burke (as he must call her) gets back from holiday, he intends to ask her for a date. He’s decided that she’s pretty enough and he can tolerate her modern-ness. I fumed silently. Pretty enough? She’s beautiful, I wanted to scream at him. How could he not see that?

                  I don’t know what I will do if she…if they…

….

Helen,

                  Tomorrow! I will see Adah tomorrow! I have vowed to be brave and now in the quiet candlelit darkness I’m sure I can be. I’m sure I will be. Yes, I will be.

…..

Helen,

                  I was late again getting to the tennis court this afternoon. I remembered my racquet but forgot the balls. As I approached, I saw Adah waiting for me. She smiled shyly when she saw me. I apologized for being late and told her I owed her an entire game this time. She laughed but would not meet my gaze. I wasn’t sure what to think. Her letter had been affectionate in a way, but her manner certainly was not. We took to our sides and both of us played badly. After the first set, Adah walked toward the net and handed me the balls. Her fingers brushed mine. Our eyes met. ‘Adah…’ I started to say (I was going to be brave, remember?) But at the same time she said, ‘Anna…’ ‘You first,’ I said gallantly.  She hesitated. She seemed nervous. ‘Anna, your brother has asked me… Well, he wants to…” I felt a hollowness growing within me, like when they told me about you. I said I knew. ‘What did you say?’ I asked and held my breath. ‘I told him… Anna, I told him that there was someone else.’ Someone else? I felt at once deaf and blind, like I’d fallen into a deep, dark cavern. Had she met someone on holiday? Or had there been someone before? I hardly knew her. ‘Someone else?’ I asked. I waited for her answer. How it hurt! She looked away then looked directly into my eyes. When she finally spoke her voice was barely a whisper. ‘You, Anna. You.’

            Can you hardly believe it, Helen? We are meeting at the park the day after tomorrow. Without our tennis racquets. I almost wish I had a red parasol.

…..

Dearest Helen,

            I will always love you and always remember you, but I must stop writing to you as if you were still here awaiting my letters. I put the picture of you, of us, in my drawer today. Remember that picture? You leaning back on an ambulance arms and legs crossed (Always so confident!) and smiling that crooked smile of yours that could so set to my heart to longing. And me, standing next to you with my hand on your arm, looking at you so adoringly I’m still shocked no one ever knew about us.

            She’s brave like you and, like you, I know she will make me brave.

…..

My Dearest Adah,

            Walking with you in the park this afternoon was heaven. Your arm linked with mine. Your hand on my arm. Could you feel my heart beating? Is it too much to say, that I was happy, truly happy? And I never thought I would feel this way again.