Romance | Series | Contemporary
Love Letters — Straight from the Heart [6]
Danni is keen enough to wait for Matt, writer of the letters, one more time
The whole series can be found in my lists, but in the previous episode Danni became curious about Saffron and waited to meet the lovers in the cafe
Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
Danni had begun to look up poetry for herself, now she didn’t have Matt’s love letters to Saffron to read. She missed the beautiful verses he had shared. They’d helped her look at the world differently, inspired by others’ carefully chosen words. She sought out verse about places and things, rather than feelings. Danni reasoned that reading love poems might fan the flames of the crush she’d been developing on the idea of Matt. That’s what it was, call a spade a spade.
It’d been months since Danni had date, gone out with a boy. Her heart had been like a garden of freshly tilled soil, and the seeds of romance which Matt had been aiming at Saffron, fell into the loam and took root. She’d been privy to a one-sided conversation, without a clue what Saffron wrote back to him, how they behaved or what they talked about when they met.
Danni saw, from Matt’s letters, that he was developing feelings for the girl who’d lived in this flat last year. The student who had lain in this bed and watched the lights from passing cars make moving stripes on this ceiling, just as she was doing now.
The girl who had left in the Easter term and hadn’t come back to collect her possessions.
Her friend Maisy had scolded Danni, said that she was in love with the idea of love. She’d hold her hands up to that. Matt had seemed like the cookie cutter boyfriend, thoughtful and kind, considerate and ready to discuss feelings. How many young men would have the patience to write letters, just because their girl had an irrational fear of mobile phones?
She should try to sleep. Tomorrow was Thursday, and if Matt came to the Prickly Pear, she’d rather not meet him looking tired and puffy. A week had passed since she’d sat waiting for him and Saffron to show. Although Danni had tried to keep a lid on her expectations, she was full of hope.
But … if he didn’t come into the cafe, Danni had bargained she would find out Smiley Guy’s name and try to strike up an in depth conversation with him.
Surely a real boy was the best antidote to pining over an overblown fantasy.
Next day, Danni hurried to get to the cafe by three. It was silly and vain, but she’d tried on and discarded several outfits before settling on what she now wore. Not wishing to appear as if she was trying too hard, she’d picked jeans and trainers. Over the top of that, she’d opted for a very baggy jumper with a dainty lace collared blouse just visible at the crew neck.
The Prickly Pear’s windows were steamy on the inside, and the warm fragrance of ground coffee met her when she opened the door. Smiley guy was at the counter. He gestured hello and held up his thumb as she moved to her usual table, to plug in her laptop, as she always did.
She had just finished draping her coat over the back of her chair, when he brought over a latte. Last Thursday she’d suffered a decaf coffee so she wouldn’t be jittery with nerves, today she’d promised to be more herself, so having her favourite drink was ideal.
She beamed and thanked the barista when he set her mug down.
“No problem, anything else?” He was as solicitous as ever.
“Maybe later,” Danni would be here all afternoon, she’d better pace herself.
Pulling up her latest assignment, she began the dull, but necessary process of listing sources she’d consulted to compile her essay. She opened several tabs to copy and paste the information, keeping her eye on the door all the while. It was hard not to feel frustrated at the people coming in who couldn’t possibly be Matt or Saffron.
“Can I get you a refill?” Smiley guy stepped close to Danni’s table.
The clock on her laptop showed it was half past four.
“Another latte would be great, and a ginger snap please.”
Time to drown her sorrows with a sugar high. The customers in the cafe had dwindled to Danni and an older man reading a paper. It seemed unlikely that her mystery letter writer would show now.
Smiley guy brought Danni’s order over, she screwed up her courage and spoke.
“I’ve been meaning to ask your name.”
His face was friendly, with freckles on his nose and a smile which crinkled his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to ask you the same thing.”
She felt a flutter, “I’m Danni.”
He smiled wider then, holding up a finger in a ‘wait’ gesture, he went around the counter to retrieve something from under the till.
“If you’re Danni, this is for you,” and with a flourish, he handed her a blue envelope.
Her name was scrawled in spiky handwriting she recognised. As her heart beat a tattoo in her chest she took it, immediately opening it to read the letter within.
Dear Danni
Thank you for returning my letters for Saffron, to me. That was a kind action.
I would like to talk, but I cannot do so until after the cafe closes.
If it’s not an imposition, please wait until after 5 pm and I’ll be there. I’ll understand if this doesn’t suit, or you decide not to stay. I am very grateful to you.
Regards Matt
Danni felt like a snowglobe, her thoughts swirling like flakes of snow. She had nothing substantial to grab onto, except that Matt wanted to meet her. She saw that the barista was watching her, and she smiled her thanks at him. After all, he’d just been the messenger for the best news!
She drank her coffee in a daze, snapping the cookie in pieces to chew, almost without tasting it.
As she packed away her laptop and checked her phone for messages, Danni was jumpy, like a cat on a hot tin roof. Smiley guy cleared her crockery to load the dishwasher, then he methodically stored all the cookies and muffins until tomorrow.
“I hope you don’t mind me hanging around,” she said, “only I’m meeting someone. The person who left that letter, actually.”
“I don’t mind Danni, it’s nice to have company while I lock up.”
“Have you worked here long?” she asked him.
“Since last year.” He replied. “I moved here to be near my girlfriend, but that didn’t work out. Now I’m studying at the university, it’s great for that.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out — with your girl I mean,” Danni felt she ought to say something comforting.
“Ah well, we were probably too different.”
The barista shrugged, but his eyes looked a little misty. Danni felt a pang of guilt for bringing up a past sadness.
“I have to lock up now,” he jingled a big bunch of keys at Danni.
“I’ll wait outside.”
She stepped into the cold autumn air, and looked up at the sky, an expanse of indigo velvet pricked with stars. Matt had been right, it could make you feel insignificant and small. She dug her hands in her pockets and scanned about. Hopefully he’d be hurrying towards the cafe now.
The door to the Prickly Pear banged shut and Smiley guy locked it in three places, before turning to Danni.
“Well, my day is over. And you’re waiting for …?”
“Matt,” she said. And suddenly remembered. “You never told me your name, and we see each other most days.”
“I’m Matt,” his smile was infectious, she could feel herself grinning as she tried to understand his answer. “From the letters.”
Then Danni just gaped at him. She was breathless, she couldn’t seem to catch up with what he’d said.
“I’m sorry, you’re Matt?”
He nodded.
“So why did you give me a letter rather than tell me earlier?”
“I wanted time to talk to you properly, which I can’t do until I finish work.”
She supposed that made sense.
“Shall we go somewhere, to talk?” Matt asked.
“Like a pub?” Danni almost stammered.
“Great idea,” Matt agreed. “Let’s go to the Green Man, it shouldn’t be too noisy at this time.”
So Danni found herself at a table in a bar, waiting for Matt to bring drinks over. She fingered the letter in her pocket and tried to get her questions in order. She had a lot of things she needed Smiley Guy a.k.a. Matt, to explain.
He set down half a pint of lager and a lemonade, with a worried frown.
“I hope you don’t feel as if I tricked you?” he asked.
“Not really, I understand why you wanted to wait until after five today, but why didn’t you say anything to me last week?”
“Last week I didn’t know who you were. I sensed you were waiting for someone, but how could I know it was me Danni? I hadn’t got your letter by then.”
She’d been right all along, the post was too slow.
“In one of your letters, you told Saffi you had exciting news, what was it?”
“I’d decided to move here. I thought if I was closer, we could see each other more often and our relationship would stand a better chance.” Matt cast his eyes down, looking sad.
“Was that too much? Is that why you broke up?”
“Broke up? No, that’s not what happened.”
“I don’t want to pry,” Danni reassured him. “I didn’t read any letters after that one, so if it’s painful to talk about, you don’t have to.”
“It is painful, but not in the way you think. Shortly after I moved here, Saffi’s mother got really sick. Saffi went home to nurse her for a few months, but unfortunately her mother’s condition deteriorated and she died. Saffi never came back to finish her studies.”
Well that explained the unfinished year, and Saffron not coming back to clear the flat.
“That’s so sad,” Danni tried not to imagine how she’d feel if something happened to her mum. It was too awful to contemplate.
“So I waited a while, and kept writing to her, but then her letters started to be returned to me marked ‘not known at this address’.
“Saffron moved away?”
“I guess so,” he rubbed his hand distractedly. “She was one of those new age travellers, and perhaps she moved on with the group to escape painful memories. I can only guess.”
“A new age traveller; that’s why she didn’t trust mobile phones?”
“Yeah,” Matt gave a wry smile. “That was a tough one for a technical guy like me.” He waggled the latest phone at Danni, then set it face down on the battered pub table.
“But you stayed living here, and took up business studies?”
“Yeah. After I moved out, my parents decided to downsize, so there isn’t a bedroom for me at their house any more. But I like this city, and getting a degree gives me opportunities for more interesting jobs.”
Danni nodded and sipped her drink. It was a lot to take in, and all far more practical than the romantic drama she’d allowed her imagination to construct.
“When I watched you in the cafe last Thursday, I could tell you were waiting for someone.” Matt continued. “My heart sank to think you had a date, so I apologise for being pleased he stood you up.”
“You stood me up,” Danni made her most indignant face.
“My parents are forwarding my post, so I didn’t get your note until this week. Forgive me?”
His eyebrows disappeared under his floppy fringe, and his gold-green eyes sparkled. How could she not?
“Danni, have I answered all your questions? Because there’s so much I want to learn about you.”
She felt happy anticipation ripple through her at his words. The way Matt was looking at her, as if anything she said was of the utmost importance, was the biggest ego trip she’d ever experienced. Her heart knocking against her ribs, made her quite giddy with exhilaration. But had he explained all the things that had piqued her curiosity?
“Just one more question,” Danni smiled sweetly. “ I didn’t know your name, so I thought of you as Smiley uy,” she said, blushing a little. “What did you call me in your head?”
Matt looked surprised at her question.
“I hope you won’t laugh, but I called you Daisy, because you’re like a burst of summer. Plus you made me think of a poem I like.”
Danni was flattered, Daisy was a nice nickname.
“What poem, do you know it by heart?” she asked.
“I keep it in my phone,” Matt said, and tapped the device a few times before handing it over.
The daisy follows soft the sun, And when his golden walk is done, Sits shyly at his feet. He, waking, finds the flower near. “Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?” “Because, sir, love is sweet!”
“I like it!” Danni pronounced, when she’d read the poem through twice. “Now what do you want to know about me?”
That concludes Love Letters — Straight from the Heart. The final poem : The Daisy Follows Soft the Sun is by Emily Dickinson. All the poems I shared in this series, apart from this and the Lighthouse extract, I found in a collection my mother copied into a book for her mother. So this short fiction is a ‘love letter’ of sorts from me to Pamela and Lillian.
If you like what you read, use my link to join Medium or subscribe to follow me by e-mail.
