Chapter 47
47
CHLOE’S LAST LETTER
I write this last letter and enclose it in my manuscript. This manuscript is my most important work to date. It is more than a memoir; it is a love story that I hope will last through the ages.
It is the story of my life, my marriage and subsequent disappearance. It’s about a man who terrorised me and took my voice away. And then my beloved found me. Lily-Louise appeared when I had given up all hope. I escaped to her family hotel and assumed another name so he could not find me. I left a note for him, alluding to the fact I was taking my own life and hoped he would believe it.
I was always happy to hide in suite nineteen if it guaranteed my safety and allowed me to stay by Lily-Louise’s side. Our love was all that mattered. It is all that matters now, although I lost Lily-Louise some time ago.
The heartbreak after her death was almost too much to bear, but bear it I did. What else could I do? Her family grieved like I did, and we supported each other as best we could. I spent hours in suite nineteen, honouring her by telling our story, the one in the enclosed pages. At first, I only wanted to write about Lily-Louise; however, that would not be the full picture and, as a writer, I owed the reader the truth. I suppose I did not want to give my husband any further thought, any more of my time. He had tried his best to break me and almost succeeded. And, yet, I persisted writing novels for him to claim as his own. Anything to survive. Anything to keep him at bay.
Once I’d made my escape, I could not write fiction again. I felt as though, even if I published under a nom de plume, he would find me. He would read a novel by a debut author and sense my voice, my style and know I was alive and come looking for me.
I have done my best to stay after losing Lily-Louise so many years ago, but now I am much aged and my time here is finished. I have a concoction to drink and soon I will meet her again, wherever souls go after here. Her dearest brother Jean has assured me that, if anything were to happen to me, he will keep our memories safe. I trust him; he’s a good man.
And so I bid my adieus with one final request. Please keep my soul in peace and my manuscript safe. Please tell our story so Lily-Louise may live forever in print.