[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.27.2″ background_image=”https:\/\/ruthware.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Dk-wood-2-OPT.jpg” custom_padding=”311px||291px||false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|||” global_colors_info=”{}” custom_padding__hover=”|||”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ header_font=”|700|||||||” header_text_align=”center” header_text_color=”#fff899″ header_font_size=”70px” header_font_size_tablet=”” header_font_size_phone=”56px” header_font_size_last_edited=”on|desktop” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ background_color=”#213442″ custom_padding=”54px|0|54px|0px|false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row padding_top_bottom_link_1=”true” padding_left_right_link_1=”true” _builder_version=”4.16″ max_width=”900px” module_alignment=”center” use_custom_width=”on” custom_width_px=”900px” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|50px||50px” custom_padding_tablet=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” custom_padding_phone=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” custom_padding_last_edited=”on|desktop” global_colors_info=”{}” padding_tablet=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” padding_last_edited=”on|desktop” custom_padding__hover=”|||” padding_phone=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ text_font=”||||||||” text_text_color=”#ffffff” header_font=”||||||||” header_2_font=”|700|||||||” header_2_text_color=”#fff899″ header_2_font_size=”28px” custom_padding=”||48px” custom_padding_tablet=”0px||0px||true” custom_padding_phone=”” custom_padding_last_edited=”on|phone” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
When In a Dark, Dark Wood<\/em> came out, I was lucky enough to be chosen to be part of the Richard and Judy book club. As part of that, I was asked to write some extra material for readers who wanted a little bit more. These letters were originally created to appear at the back of a special edition of the book, and for that reason it’s assumed that anyone reading them knows the truth about all the characters involved in the story.<\/p>\n If you haven’t read In a Dark, Dark Wood<\/em>, I strongly recommend you stop here, as the letters contain major spoilers for the story, and won’t make much sense in isolation. You can find some non-spoilery insights here<\/a>\u00a0and here<\/a>.<\/p>\n If on the other hand you’ve read the book, unravelled the mystery, and want a last word from James, read on…<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ header_font=”||||||||” header_2_font=”||||||||” header_2_text_color=”#fff899″ global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ text_font=”||||||||” text_text_color=”#ffffff” custom_padding_tablet=”0px||0px||true” custom_padding_phone=”” custom_padding_last_edited=”on|phone” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Dear Leonora,<\/p>\n I expect you are wondering who this package is from. It\u2019s Geri, James\u2019s mum. (Oh dear, writing that still makes me well up.) I am sorry it\u2019s taken me so long to write, especially after you asked me at the funeral to keep in touch, but the last six months have been tough, as I\u2019m sure they have for you, and I was not quite sure what to say or how to begin.<\/p>\n However, I now have an excuse to write, which is that I began, finally, to clear out James\u2019s old room. I have been putting it off and putting it off, but it was beginning to feel like something hanging over me, and last month a dear friend came round and helped me go through his things and sort out which should go to charity and which to his friends and so on.<\/p>\n I wanted very much to find some kind of keepsake for you, but nothing seemed quite right, and then I came upon these stuffed down behind the back of his chest of drawers, though whether they had been hidden there or had just fallen down I have no idea. I worried for a long time about what to do with them, whether to burn them as James seemed to intend, or whether to send them to you. For a while I thought they would be too painful for you to read, and I had almost made up my mind to dispose of them, but then I began to think that perhaps they had survived \u2013 or been kept \u2013 for a reason.<\/p>\n I never really knew what happened between the two of you \u2013 and I didn\u2019t try to pry with James. It was obviously something very painful, and I just left it at that, and tried to help James through as best I could, as I hoped your mum was helping you. But having read his letters I think I understand a little more now, and I can only say how sorry I am that you were both in so much pain, and suffering it alone, but that I understand why you needed to leave and make a fresh start.<\/p>\n Please don\u2019t feel you have to keep these as some morbid keepsake, Leo dear. If you want to burn them as James might indeed have wished, that is your choice. But I thought that perhaps, after all this time, it might be a comfort to you to know how much he cared, in spite of everything, and how very dear you were to him.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t want to trust these to the post, so I am sending them via James\u2019s uni friend, Matt Ridout, who tells me that he lives not far from you in London and would be glad to drop them off. <\/p>\n Dear Leo, You\u2019re not just \u2018dear Leo\u2019 like I\u2019m writing a letter to my granny. What word am I supposed to use? Darling? Dearest? Only? Fucking. Is that better? Are you happy? I hope you are, because I\u2019m going out of my mind, so one of us should be. How could you, Leo? How could you run away like this without saying goodbye? What did I do?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Dear Leo,<\/p>\n This is the fourth, maybe fifth letter I\u2019ve tried to write. I tore the others up. I don\u2019t know what I was thinking, except that I was so angry that you could do that to me after everything we said and did and promised, that you could run off without a backward glance, and ask me not to contact you. I just. . . I don\u2019t know what to do, you know? I lie on my bed and cry and cry until my mum comes up and asks me if I\u2019m OK \u2013 and I tell her yes, even though it\u2019s a lie, because I\u2019m not OK. I\u2019m falling apart.<\/p>\n I love you \u2013 and I can\u2019t even tell you. I rang your mobile \u2013 did you know that? Even though you asked me not to. I rang it from a pay phone so you wouldn\u2019t see my number. I\u2019m not sure why. I wasn\u2019t going to whine at you, or harass you, I swear. I just. . . I think I just wanted to hear your voice. But you\u2019ve changed your number. All I got was a recorded message, saying my call could not be connected.<\/p>\n I dream about you all the time, about your face when you told me, the look in your eyes. Fuck, Leo, I would give anything to turn back the clock and undo whatever I did wrong. What did I do? What did I say that was so bad?<\/p>\n I love you. Oh God, I wish I didn\u2019t, but I do. I love you and I hate you and I miss you and I need you. Please, Leo. Please.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Dear Leo,<\/p>\n It\u2019s been two months and three days. I don\u2019t need to count that. I know it off by heart, like you know the day of the week, or the month, or the year. And every day since you left, I\u2019ve replayed that afternoon in my mind, wishing I had said something, done something different.<\/p>\n I know. I was dumb, and stupid, and I choked, and I said the wrong thing. But the shock \u2013 Jesus \u2013 and your face, the way you stood there so pale and scared, with your eyes brimming up like you were frightened of me \u2013 I didn\u2019t know what to say. But I\u2019ve relived the scene now a hundred times in my mind, playing it back, trying to work out what went wrong, and what I don\u2019t get is what could I have said? I know I fucked it up somehow, I just don\u2019t know how. I don\u2019t know what I did that was so bad, so wrong, what I could have done differently. I don\u2019t know what I could have done that would have made it OK. Was there something? Or had I done the damage already?<\/p>\n I am so sorry, Leo. What happened, whatever I said, I fucked it up, and I am so, so sorry for that. I will never be done being sorry. Are you OK? You\u2019re so far away from all your friends. I wish you would just drop me a line to say something. That you\u2019re all right. That you\u2019ve moved on. Even that you\u2019ve found someone else. Because then I could stop feeling so responsible for what happened. <\/p>\n Dear Leo, When Mum put the cards on my plate at breakfast, I couldn\u2019t help looking through the envelopes for one with your handwriting on, these pathetic fluttering butterflies in my stomach, like you would change your mind on this day of all days, like I somehow deserved to hear from you.<\/p>\n It was stupid, I know that. I know you well enough to know that once you make up your mind on something, that\u2019s it. You\u2019re not fickle, Leo. Whatever I can accuse you of \u2013 and God knows, I\u2019ve called you some pretty ugly stuff, inside the privacy of my head But then, I thought I knew you, and now I\u2019m wondering if I did at all.<\/p>\n Clare says I should move on. She says that\u2019s what you\u2019d want, for me to be happy. I asked her how she knew that, and she just shrugged and talked about letting go of pain and opening myself up to new possibilities, and forks in the road and stuff that was meant to be. I kind of tune it out, to be honest. It reeks of self-help bullshit to me.<\/p>\n God, I\u2019m reading that back and I feel ashamed. I shouldn\u2019t be such a dick when she\u2019s never been anything but kind to me. I didn\u2019t have much time for her at school. I thought she was shallow and bitchy and painfully in love with herself \u2013 but then people probably said the same about me. Since you\u2019ve gone. . . well, I\u2019m starting to see a different side to her, that\u2019s all. She\u2019s been a good friend, you know. To me. To both of us. Going with you to the clinic, holding your hand \u2013 I\u2019m glad you had someone there, someone who loved you, even if you didn\u2019t want me. Dear Leo,<\/p>\n They sold your grandad\u2019s house today. I watched the new people move in, saw them ripping down the sale board and shoving it in the dustbin. And I felt like. . . this is it. She\u2019s finally gone.<\/p>\n It\u2019s been four months and I still don\u2019t know what I did wrong, but if I could make it right I would, I swear. Maybe you thought I wanted out, or wanted you to make a decision you couldn\u2019t make \u2013 was that it? But if so you were wrong. I never wanted anything for you except what you wanted yourself. I wasn\u2019t trying to abdicate responsibility for the decision. I was trying to say that whatever you want \u2013 whatever you wanted \u2013 it would have been OK. Because I love you. That\u2019s what love means, isn\u2019t it? That you want someone to be happy more than you want it for yourself, because without their happiness there is none for you. That\u2019s what I was trying to say, back in my room, and I blew it, because I\u2019m a fucking idiot. And I wish there was some way I could go back and make it right \u2013 but there isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n Shit. I\u2019m reading this letter back \u2013 and I\u2019m looking at the page and it\u2019s I . . . I . . . I . . . and this is still not what I wanted to say. Because it\u2019s not about me, I know that. It\u2019s about us. It\u2019s about you.<\/p>\n And yet I can\u2019t help myself. All the questions I want to ask you, they\u2019re all about me. What did I do wrong? How can I make it right?<\/p>\n Maybe it\u2019s because I\u2019m scared that if I ask the other questions, the ones about you, I already know the answers. I know what you want. I know, because you\u2019ve already told me. You want to be left alone. You don\u2019t want to be contacted. And I\u2019m so fucking selfish that I can\u2019t listen to that, I can\u2019t accept it. I need to hear the words from you, from your lips. I want to hear you say it just one time \u2013 see your lips shape the words, feel them punch me in the gut: Leave. Me. Alone.<\/p>\n Because maybe then I would believe they were true.<\/p>\n I love you, Leo. Oh God, I wish I had the words to tell you how much. I love you, and I can\u2019t bear that you are somewhere dealing with this alone when it\u2019s all my fault.<\/p>\n I love you \u2013 and because I\u2019ll never send this letter, I can tell you what I really want to say \u2013 not what I know I should say, not what\u2019s right for you. I can be completely selfish and say what\u2019s in my heart, which is this: please come back. Or let me come to you, and we\u2019ll go away together, and fuck Reading and the stupid bitchy gossips. Please, Leo. Please. I love you.<\/p>\n Jesus, I loved you so much. I never knew how much until you were gone, until you ripped me up inside.<\/p>\n I\u2019m writing this, but I won\u2019t send it. I\u2019ll get my lighter out, and when I\u2019ve written the final x, I\u2019ll set fire to this, the way I have all the others, all the tens, dozens, maybe hundreds of letters I\u2019ve written you since you left.<\/p>\n I will burn this, and hope that maybe before I finish the next letter you\u2019ll come back. That you\u2019ll text. Or call. Or something.<\/p>\n Because I will be here. I swear I\u2019ll be here, where you can find me.<\/p>\n And I swear something else, Leo: I love you, and I\u2019ll love you till I die.<\/p>\n James x<\/p>\n <\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row padding_top_bottom_link_1=”true” padding_left_right_link_1=”true” _builder_version=”4.16″ max_width=”900px” module_alignment=”center” use_custom_width=”on” custom_width_px=”900px” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|50px||50px” custom_padding_tablet=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” custom_padding_phone=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” custom_padding_last_edited=”on|desktop” global_colors_info=”{}” padding_tablet=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true” padding_last_edited=”on|desktop” custom_padding__hover=”|||” padding_phone=”0px|0px|0px|0px|true|true”][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Spoiler Alert! Don’t read this until you’ve read the book!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":155,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-686","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-in-a-dark-dark-wood"],"yoast_head":"\n[SPOILERS START HERE]<\/h2>\n
I hope you are happy, my dear. You deserve to be. With love,
Geri<\/p>\n
No, fuck that. I will not be English and polite and OK about this.<\/p>\n
Fucking Leo.<\/p>\n
I love you. I love you so much.<\/p>\n
Today is my birthday. Did you remember it? I\u2019m seventeen.<\/p>\n
\u2013 I can\u2019t say that.<\/p>\n
Call her, please, Leo. Even if you can\u2019t bear to contact me, call
her. She deserves that much.\u00a0<\/p>\n
What do you want, Leo? What do you need?<\/p>\n