The Language Of Love

The discovery of a box of letters after her mom’s death makes Beatrice start questioning her marriage

- Glynis Scrivens

Beatrice was surprised to find a box of love letters among her mother’s personal possessions. And she was even more surprised to discover they’d been written by her father.

This was a side of him she hadn’t seen during his lifetime. Or perhaps she’d been too young to notice? Too caught up in her own life and the struggles of growing up.

She and her husband had driven over to her parents’ house to begin the enormous task of sifting through the papers, music, books, furniture and bric-a-brac produced by living in the same house for 40 years. Anything that looked as though it might come in handy one day had been kept.

Beatrice had felt overwhelmed by emotion, and retreated to her mother’s room to sit quietly with a cup of tea before starting her task. Paul followed, holding their baby son who was sucking his fist and whimpering.

“I never knew my father was such a romantic man at heart,” she said. “He always seemed so practical. Gentle, of course, but . . .” She sipped her tea. “Did I just not see him as he really was?” she asked, when her husband didn’t answer. “There were five of us children for my parents to look after. That wouldn’t have left much time for romance, would it? Do you think having children changed him?”

“It certainly changed things between you and me,” Paul said. “We’ve had to become very practical since Andrew was born, just to survive.”