Pen Pals

Heidi’s hands trembled as she pressed send. She watched to make sure the text actually sent, then threw the phone down beside her and rested her head back on the gaudily patterned seat. Why did they always use such ugly patterns for train seats? Who would choose this pattern when there must be millions of other more attractive patterns to choose from? Perhaps it was to hide the stains. She suddenly felt very dirty. She wished she could take a shower.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Would Great-Aunt Ethel have approved of what she was doing?

The phone call from the solicitor had surprised her. In truth, she’d barely known Ethel. She remembered her from the big family reunions of her childhood, but her great-aunt had faded into obscurity as Heidi had moved through life – the turbulent teenage years, the early years of marriage and the arrival of children. And then, of course, the divorce.

Heidi felt the now-familiar guilt needling away at her. She hadn’t given Ethel more than a passing thought in all those years, and yet the old lady had determined, for some inexplicable reason, to leave her $20,000. Heidi hadn’t even gone to the funeral.

Funny, then, how it should be Ethel who had granted Heidi her dearest wish.

When had she first known that she loved Dean? Sometimes it seemed like she had always loved him. But that wasn’t true. She hadn’t always known him. Meeting him – if you could call it that – had been a matter of chance. She had been a lonely child, and when the lady who had moved in down the street had suggested Heidi become her grandson’s pen pal, she had jumped at the chance. Dean was twelve, the same age as Heidi, and he lived in England. It had seemed so exotic!

They had lost touch a few times over the years. Heidi had gotten over her shyness and made friends. In time, she’d discovered boys. Dean, meanwhile, was proving to be very popular with the opposite sex. Or so his grandmother said. Either way, they’d each had less time for writing letters.

The internet had been in its infancy in Australia when Heidi was accepted at one of the top universities in Queensland. Dean’s grandmother stood in the driveway with her parents to wave her off, but not before slipping a piece of paper into her hand with Dean’s email address on it. ‘Just in case you get lonely,’ she’d said.

And Heidi had gotten lonely. She’d left all of her friends behind in Bundaberg and had yet to make any new friends, her childhood shyness having returned with a vengeance. She knew Dean had been accepted at Oxford and found herself wondering if he, too, was lonely. One night, less than a fortnight into her university career, she’d taken the piece of paper with Dean’s email address from her bag and typed out an email. She’d cried tears of joy when, a few hours later, an email from Dean had popped up in her inbox.

Then Heidi had met the man who would become her husband and later, her ex-husband. Dean, much like Great-Aunt Ethel, had been relegated to the past. His grandmother sometimes popped in when Heidi was visiting her parents. It was through her that she had learnt about Dean's marriage.

Heidi opened her eyes and met the bored gaze of the man sitting opposite her. She flashed him a quick smile before reaching into her bag and pulling out a small black notebook. She opened the notebook to the last page and removed the slip of paper tucked into the pocket on the back cover. Not caring what her fellow passengers might think, she pressed it to her chest.

The divorce had been the turning point in her relationship with Dean. That was when his grandmother had slipped her another piece of paper – the same piece of paper she had taken from her notebook just seconds ago. On this piece of paper she had written Dean’s phone number. Dean, she had said, might know how Heidi felt, having gone through a divorce a couple of years earlier.

Six months ago Heidi had heard Dean’s voice for the first time in her life. His voice had sounded like home.

Now she carefully tucked the piece of paper back into the pocket and turned to the first page. There she had recorded her thoughts following that first conversation with Dean.

She smiled to see the same three words written over and over, until the whole page had been covered. ‘I love Dean.’

She had thought it would all come to nothing, but then she had learned of Great-Aunt Ethel’s bequest and it had suddenly seemed possible.

It hadn’t taken long to sort out her flights and accommodation and almost before she had known what she was doing, she was on a long-haul flight to England. She hadn’t told Dean, not until she had gotten on the train that was to take her to Oxford. He had moved there permanently after graduating university and taken up a teaching job.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her mind. Her phone was sitting on the seat beside her. Heidi glanced at the watch her kids teased her about – ‘Why do you need a watch when you have a phone?’ – and saw that almost 45 minutes had passed since she’d sent the text. The train would be pulling into the station at Oxford in 15 minutes and he still hadn’t replied. He didn’t want to see her. She closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

‘You might want to get that, love.’

Heidi opened her eyes. The man sitting across from her pointed at her phone. ‘Looks like someone wants to speak to you.’

‘I, uh, thank you.’ The words tumbled from Heidi’s mouth. Dean’s name was flashing on the phone’s screen. Idiot! She must have left it on silent.

She picked up her phone, her heart thumping, blood whooshing in her ears, and ran her finger across the screen.

‘Heidi! I’m so sorry. I was in class, but I’m on my way to the station now.’

Heidi laughed. ‘No, I’m sorry. I should have given you more warning.’

‘Not at all. I…I’m just so glad that you’re here.’ Dean paused. She imagined him running his hands through his hair, chewing his bottom lip. ‘Heidi? I don’t know if now is the right time, but I love you.’

'And I love you, Dean.' Oh, yes, it was definitely the right time.