Yours Loving

• Eleni Shrestha, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

Note 1

My Dear, Loving Bert,

I couldn’t wait up for you any longer so I’m off to bed. I’ve left your dinner on the stove – it’s your favourite, shepherds pie.

You’re working too hard dear. I hardly ever see you.

Your loving Betty xx


Note 2

Bert, My Dear,

You’re not eating enough to keep a sparrow alive. You’re dinner looked almost untouched.

I worry about you working so hard at your age.

Your loving Betty xx


Note 3

Dearest Bertie,

I’ve just popped out to the shop to pick up something nice for your dinner.

Hopefully I’ll be back before you get home.

All my love Betty xx


Note 4

Bert Dear,

You were so quiet this morning, I hardly heard you.

It was so nice of you to think of making a pot of tea for me before you left. Silly me, I slept late and by the time I sat down to drink it, it was quite cold.

I bumped into Mrs. Parker today. The poor old dear seems to be losing her marbles. She seemed intent on getting me out of the house to join various groups that she’s in.

You know how I dislike being out when you come home.

I do miss you Bertie, the days are so long with you out all day.

Your loving Betty xx


Note 5

Bertie,

Our Cheryl rang this afternoon and said she’s worried about me. I don’t see why but she insisted on coming for tea tomorrow evening.

Hope you’ll be home in time.

Your loving wife, Betty xx


Betty set out three places at the dining table, placing each knife and fork down with such care not to make a sound.

The latch of the door clicked open.

Betty’s face wrinkled into an old smile. “Bertie dear, is that you?”
There was a soft reply. “No mum, it’s me, remember? Cheryl.”

The wrinkled old smile upon the ladies countenance turned into a perplexed look of disbelief. “What are you doing here? Bert’s going to be here in a minute and we’re just going to sit down to tea.”

Cheryl looked down , the tears welling in her eyes. “Mum I’m worried about you.” She glanced at the three plates set out. “I thought you might need some support,” she sighed. “Dad, Bertie… he’s passed on. It’s been two years. He is no longer with us.”

The old woman’s eyes glazed over. “Bertie is always with me, dear.”