The next two missives are blasts from her romantic past. The first is Daniel saying that he is thinking of her 慽n this strange new world of ours? The next is from another ex-boyfriend, Peter Snow.
Hi Ruth. Interesting times, eh? Px.
Ruth met Peter when they were excavating the Bronze Age henge. It had been a magical summer, long days digging and long evenings by the camp fire watching the birds wheeling across the Norfolk sky. Peter wasn抰 an archaeologist; he was a historian who turned up one day and offered his help on the site. He had been enthusiastic, so enthusiastic that he almost drowned in quicksand trying to reach the buried timbers. Erik had saved him, crawling over the treacherous ground with his hand held out. That night, Ruth realised not only that Peter had nearly died but also that she loved him. Life was suddenly very precious. Erik抯 wife Magda seemed to read her mind and suggested that Ruth and Peter go and collect samphire together. There, by the water抯 edge, they had, simply and sweetly, walked into each other抯 arms. Peter had encouraged her to apply for the job at UNN and to buy the cottage. They were together for nearly five years and Ruth was so used to Peter that she didn抰 at first notice that she抎 fallen out of love with him. She ended the relationship, to her mother抯 horror, and, apart from a strange, abortive reunion twelve years ago, Ruth hasn抰 seen Peter since. She knows he抯 now married with a child. There抯 no mention of either in his email. Ruth抯 finger hovers over the reply arrow.
Hi Peter. Hope things are OK with you. This is a strange, scary time, isn抰 it? I抦 still working at UNN, though struggling to teach my students online at the moment as well as home-schooling my daughter, Kate. Peter ?this might seem odd but do you remember anything about the people who had the cottage before me? I抳e been doing a bit of research. Ruth.
Ruth wonders whether Peter will respond but, when she opens her laptop later that evening, after Kate is in bed, there抯 another email from him.
Hi Ruth. Great to hear from you. Funnily enough, I抳e been thinking a lot about the cottage. We had some fun times there, didn抰 we? I remember when we first bought the cats. Flint used to climb the curtains but Sparky was scared of everything. I don抰 remember anything about the previous owners. You always made it very clear that the purchase of the house was nobody抯 business but yours. The only thing I remember is that it used to be called 慣he Cabin? We used to joke about that. The Evil Dead and all those horror story tropes.
How old is Kate now? Daniel is eighteen and hoping to go to university in September. As long as this wretched virus is over by then. I don抰 know if you know that Victoria and I are divorced. I抦 living on my own and teaching at Nottingham University. It抯 a very interesting town, historically. You must visit one day. When all this is over etc etc.
Take care
Px
Ruth looks at this missive for some time. It brings back Peter in all his lovable, annoying glory. He had loved the cats and they had shared their kittenhood together. The mention of Sparky still makes Ruth sad, even after all these years. The comment about the purchase of the house being nobody抯 business but hers seems rather pointed though. There had been some talk of them buying the house together, but Ruth had, even then, been determined that it would belong to her alone. She must have known, at some level, that she and Peter were not destined to be partners for life. But she had forgotten about 慣he Cabin? There had even been a sign with a lopsided drawing of a house. It had seemed funny back then when 慼orror story tropes?were an amusing, academic joke.
She can抰 believe that Daniel, who was a little boy when she last saw Peter, is about to go to university. She seems to be haunted by Daniels. There抯 her childhood boyfriend, Daniel Breakspeare, and she had a good friend at university called Dan Golding. Why has Peter, like the other Daniel, chosen to contact her now? It抯 the pandemic, she thinks, and the prospect of weeks （months?） with only a laptop and memories for company. She should stop this correspondence now. She knows that she will never visit Peter in Nottingham, no matter how interesting the town is 慼istorically?
She抯 about to press 憇hut down? when another email appears on the screen. The sender is identified only by an anonymous Gmail address and the message is brief.