The Second World War: PART 4 - Sophie Moss - London (1946) #2
By J. A. Stapleton
- 328 reads
I’ve begun this diary to chronicle my life after the War.
Now that it is over I feel like I know nothing. This I did not expect to happen. My dream hasn’t, and most likely will not, come true. Roger hasn’t returned like so many others. He promised me he would.
I’ve waited for him, for nigh on seven years, and I feel like I can’t wait much longer. I have no clue as to what he’s doing, who he’s with or even, perish the thought, that he’s even alive. His family knows nothing. He hasn’t written to anyone since his arrival in Germany, a camp near Sagan. Nobody knows anything. His sister Hazel, who happens to be three years my junior, has married. I am thirty-five now and don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for something that may never happen.
In one of Roger’s earlier letters, he told me he planned to propose on the day he left for France. It nearly killed me when I read it.
My Mother’s decided to stick her oar in and has prepared a suitor. I am to dine with him this coming Saturday. I love Roger, that I always will, but I feel like my life, the direction it’s taking, our very relationship, whatever you’d call it now, has come to a stop. He hasn’t written me in over a year. Hopefully, he’s just running late, wherever he is.
As for now, I’ve decided to meet this gentleman for afternoon tea at the Savoy, my favourite as a little girl. I will cross my T’s and dot my I’s in Mr. Brown’s presence, ask for a lift home and bid him farewell. Should he be kind and gentlemanly I may want to see him again. He’s devilishly handsome though!
Wish me luck!
Roger will always be a part of me.
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