30 Day Image Prompt Competition - August

Day 22 Prompt 2 - The Kiss

“Goodness, who’s that?”

Olivia looked over to the dining table where her daughter, Jo, was seated, an open photograph album in front of her. Curious, she went to stand by her shoulder and looked down at the picture she was pointing out. “That’s my grandmother. You knew her as Granny Ivy.”

“Granny Ivy? Wow, she looks totally different there. I’d never have guessed that was the same woman.” She stared back down at the photograph, studying the image of the carefree young woman kissing a young soldier goodbye as he leant out of the carriage window.

“Yes, she was a more fun loving young woman during the war, according to your Great Aunt Rose.” Deciding that the housework could wait a little longer, Olivia sat down at the table next to her daughter and pulled the album closer to her. “She loved to go out on the town, partying in the church hall with the soldiers stationed nearby.”

Jo looked up at her mother, hearing the slight tone of disapproval in her voice. Her mother wasn’t a prude but there were limits to how much wild behaviour she would tolerate. She wondered what the stories about ivy were like.

“Did she have a bit of a reputation?” she asked.

“A little bit of one. It could have been much worse but she seemed to settle down after a while.” Olivia looked closer at the photograph, seeing the gusto upon which she embraced her soldier, her lips clinging to his as her hands gripped at his arms. Her foot was raised slightly off the ground, her eyes closed as she lost herself in his kiss. You could almost see the love that existed between them.

“Is that Grandpa Joe?”

Roused from her musings, Olivia looked closer at the image of the soldier. He appeared to be an American which confirmed instantly that the man Ivy was kissing was not the soldier she married at the end of the war.

“No, Grandpa Joe was in the RAF. This man appears to be an American.” She wondered who he was. The album was one that had been retrieved along with a shoebox of papers from the nursing home where Ivy had recently passed away. Jo had called around to help her sort through Ivy’s papers before going to the home to clear out the rest of her belongings from her room.

“Wondering if there is anything else on the back?” Jo carefully eased the photograph out of its pocket and turned it over. “It’s got writing on it. ‘Sam and I saying goodbye. January 1945.’ Wonder who Sam was?”

Olivia frowned at the dates, something tugging at her memories. “Your grandmother’s middle name was Samantha. She was born in September 1945. Ivy said that she was born early but she never seemed to suffer any problems from it.”

“When did she and Grandpa Joe marry?” Sam reached across for the shoebox and pulled the lid off.

“February 1945. They lived on the same street in the village. Rose said that they’d known each other for years.”

“That’s just a month after this picture was taken. You don’t think…?” Her voice trailed off as she started to rummage around in the box. “Look, there’s a bundle here.” She pulled out a small package wrapped in a man’s handkerchief and tied with a blue ribbon. “Wonder what it contains.”

Olivia watched as he daughter untied the ribbon and carefully unfolded the handkerchief. Her mind was full of questions relating not only to who the mystery soldier was but also questions of her own mother’s paternity. Her grandmother had never mentioned Sam nor said very much about her daughter’s early birth, nor had any of her close relatives who had been around at that time. It appeared that one photograph was revealing secrets that had lain dormant for nearly seventy years.

“There isn’t very much here,” Jo said as she spread the handkerchief’s contents out across the polished surface of the dining table. “There’s another photograph of her soldier. He was very handsome, looks familiar somehow.”

Olivia looked at the picture of a young man in an evening suit. It looked a professional photograph and she remembered her grandmother telling her about a small studio in the village where you could have a posh photograph taken. She looked at the man in the picture, his close cropped hair, clean shaven features, eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Just like her mother’s did when she smiled. It looked as though this man may have been her grandfather not the man she had always believed.

“There are some letters here. Do you think we should read them?” Jo looked at her mother, feeling hesitant about diving into the personal life of her great grandmother. There were things being revealed that had never been discussed with Ivy’s family and it felt wrong to be doing it when the old lady was not around to explain things herself.

“Open them,” she instructed, wanting to know what secrets her grandmother had hidden all these years.

Jo pulled the first one open. “It’s from America,” she said, looking at the return address on the envelope. “‘My dearest Ivy. I arrived back at the base late last night and I’m missing you already. I never thought it possible to miss someone as much as I miss you. I’ve got a meeting with the General tomorrow. I’m going to ask him how much longer I need to stay in the unit. I want to come home to you, Ivy. Tell Joe thanks for the parcel of snacks he made up. They tasted so much better than the slop they served on the plane over. I hope his leg’s feeling better. Tell him to stay off it a little. Ivy, I know I shouldn’t ask this of you, with an ocean between us, but, will you marry me and be my wife? I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. All my love, Sam.’”

Jo released a shaky breath and looked to her mother. “That is so sweet,” she breathed. “They must have been so in love.”

“It sounds like they were, although, I wonder if your Joe knew how she felt about this Sam. It sounds like he was around at the same time.” Olivia looked down at the letter feeling confusion weighing at her.

“Yes, didn’t Grandpa Joe have a bad leg? I remember him limping sometimes when we were out walking.”

“Yes, he’d broken it when his plane had crashed on landing. It was a nasty break and they thought he might lose the leg at one stage. He didn’t like to talk about it but it sounds as though Sam knew about it.”

“There’s another letter here. It looks like it was written by Ivy. Wonder why she didn’t post it.” Jo opened the envelope and retrieved the slender sheet of paper, covered in her great grandmother’s flowing script. “‘My dearest Sam. I was so relieved to receive your letter this morning. I have been worrying so much about you since you left here, and missing you like a part of myself has been taken. Joe sends his regards and says he’s glad you liked his parcel. He’ll have another one ready for you for when you return, he says. I must say, your proposal took me by surprise when I read it in your letter. You never gave any indication of your intentions when you left, other than that you would return when all of this fighting was over. Before I give you my answer, dearest Sam, there is something I feel you should know. For the past few mornings I have been ill when I have awoken. I thought I was dying but my sister asked when was the last time I had my … you know… cycle. I realised I was late, very late and that I must be pregnant with our baby. Doctor Adams confirmed it yesterday when I went to see her. I love you very much, Sam, but I do not want you to feel that you must return here to take responsibility for this baby. I am not some weak minded feeble female and I know that you have family and responsibilities there in America. Think long and hard, my love, about this proposal and what it would mean, gaining not only an English wife but also a new baby. If you still wish to marry me, then my answer is a whole hearted yes. It would be an honour to be your wife. All of my love, Ivy.’” She placed the letter back on the table and frowned at it, as tears welled up in her eyes at the overwhelming emotion filling that single page.

“I wonder why she didn’t send it,” Olivia said, picking up the envelope and studying it. “It has a stamp on ready for posting and has Sam’s address at his base in America on it. What stopped her?”

“I don’t kno – oh, wait. There’s another letter here. Looks official.” Jo held up a small brown envelope with Ivy’s name and address typed upon it. “‘Dear Miss Evans. I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Mark, we met at the Christmas party. I’m a friend of Sam’s. Gosh, Ivy, if I may call you Ivy? I don’t know how to write this letter. It’s not one I ever thought I would have to write to someone, certainly not someone so close to a friend of mine as you were to Sam. Here goes. Yesterday, Sam’s troop were returning to the base after having been on a training exercise. The bus must have encountered a patch of ice and it spun out of control, tumbling down the hillside. Sam and three other soldiers were killed instantly when they were thrown out of the window. I’m really sorry to tell you this, Ivy, because I know you loved him deeply and he felt just as strong for you. I wish I could be there for you. If there is anything you need, please let me know and I’ll sort it out for you. Yours Mark Kendal.’”

“Oh, how tragic. He died not knowing he was going to be a father. Grandpa Joe must have married her to provide the baby with a name.” Olivia felt tears welling at the corners of her eyes for their powerful loss. “It must have been so hard for him, to marry Ivy and raise your grandmother knowing that she was not his child.”

“He never said anything, not that I can remember.” Jo looked at the final documents on the handkerchief. “There’s a birth certificate here. It list’s Sam as being the father of Jessica Samantha Williams Hulton. There’s a note attached as well. Do you want to read it?”
Olivia took the proffered note and opened the fragile paper. It was written by her grandfather and dated the day after her mother had been born. “ ‘Even though Jessica may not be a child of my blood, I hereby acknowledge her as my child and grant upon her all rights and privileges as may be enjoyed by a child of my blood. This is what her father would have wanted and I shall endeavour to carry out his wishes for as long as I shall live. Joe Hulton, husband of Ivy Hulton.”

“That is so sad. No wonder Grandma Ivy was so restrained after the war. She’d lost the lover of her life.” Jo gathered up the letters and pictures, feeling like a voyeur having viewed something so intimate and special. “I wonder if Sam had any other family in the US. It would be nice to trace them.”

“You think? What about your grandmother? We don’t know what she knows?”

“We’ll ask her,” Jo replied, a determined glint in her face that was so reminiscent of the Hulton females.

Olivia sighed. It was going to be a long evening.