Page 25 of Birds of a Feather

I sat up as quickly as I could for first thing in the morning and opened the email from Gerry Burnsby with the subject line: Hello.

Dearest Elise,

I am so sorry it has taken me several days to reply. I rarely use my university email, and in the excitement of receiving your message, I somehow uninstalled the program from my computer and then managed to lock my account. It’s taken three days and two patient IT fellows to get me back online.

I tore my gaze away from the screen to stop myself from reading any more. As tempting as it was to continue, it wasn’t mine to read.

It was 6.15am – too early to ring Gran. Instead, I decided to forgo my run and head to her house on the way to work.

I quickly showered, dressed and ate breakfast. As I was walking out the door, I sent Gran a text.

I’m coming over. Gerry replied.

A few moments later my phone chimed.

Hurry. Let’s see what that new car of yours can do.

When I arrived, Gran was waiting for me on her porch. She was wrapped in her turquoise green robe and had her hiking boots on, which I suspected were the quickest thing for her to put on. She had a coffee in each hand and held one out to me as I made my way up her path.

‘Come on, come on,’ she said, ushering me inside. ‘I’m getting older by the minute. What did she say?’

‘I don’t know,’ I replied as we made our way towards the kitchen. ‘I haven’t read it.’

‘What!’ she squawked incredulously.

‘You should be the first to read it,’ I said, sitting down, taking out my laptop and firing it up. Gran paced around the kitchen muttering about how she’d waited sixty years, and now she’d have to wait even longer while the computer loaded.

‘Okay. Here it is.’ I turned the computer around to face her. She sat down, pulled her glasses out of her dressing gown pocket, took a deep breath and angled her body towards the screen. The laptop screen made small blue reflections in her specs.

I studied her face for clues about the contents of the email or how it made her feel. But, as her eyes tracked from left to right, she was expressionless.

After several moments, she removed her glasses and wiped them on her dressing gown. Her eyes were wet with tears, and the skin on her chin dimpled and quivered slightly.

‘Well, there you have it,’ she said, returning her glasses to her nose with a sniff.

‘Have what? What did she say?’

She turned the computer back to me, stood up and walked to retrieve a tissue from a box on the shelf by the kitchen door. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose loudly.

I braced myself as I began reading.

Dearest Elise,

I am so sorry it has taken me several days to reply. I rarely use my university email, and in the excitement of receiving your message, I somehow uninstalled the program from my computer and then managed to lock my account. It’s taken three days and two patient IT fellows to get me back online. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I was to hear from you. I have thought of you many times since we last saw each other all those years ago.

How wonderful that you were part of the Millennium Seed Bank Project – it was such a wonderful initiative and has been such a great example of the global scientific community working together.

I have loved my work over the years, although I wouldn’t read too much into my tenure at the university. I think they only invited me to be an adjunct professor because I kept hanging around and they needed to find a way to insure me while I was on campus. But I still love working with the young people; they are so vibrant and full of energy and enthusiasm. They remind me of us a hundred years ago.

I never married, but have enjoyed love in my life and have travelled extensively. I have also had the joy of being an aunt and great-aunt to my sister’s children and grandchildren. It has been one of the great pleasures of my life to love without expectation or responsibility.

I would enjoy the opportunity to keep in touch, Elise. Given my limited aptitude for technology, perhaps we could speak on the phone. My great-nephew Nick has set me up with a smartphone so I can make as many calls as I want, to whomever I want. Imagine if this technology had existed all those years ago. How different things might have been.

If you send me your phone number, I will give you a call. London is eight hours behind you, so perhaps I could call when it’s evening here and morning there. Or the other way around.

I am delighted to have heard from you and hope to speak to you soon.

With love,

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