by Celia Winchester

Created on: July 15, 2009

It was an attic. Like the ones you see in old movies, filled with forgotten relics of better times covered in a thick blanket of dust. I was sifting through my grandfather's old trunk when I saw them peaking out from the torn lining. Old letters, at least twenty of them signed by a woman named Isabella. Grandmother's name was Agnes.

I knew that if I read the letters it would be an invasion of privacy, but I couldn't help myself. I plopped down into an old armchair in the corner of the attic and sank into its worn yet comfortable cushions. The light overhead swayed gently with the rhythm of the old house settling, casting a yellow mist over the already time aged papers. I took caution in unfolding the letters, for fear of them turning to dust between my fingers.

The year on the letters was 1941. Grandfather was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy at that time. The possible identity of the woman without a face raced through my mind. What was the nature of their relationship? When did they meet and how come grandfather never mentioned anything about an Isabella?

I tried to ignore the questions that raced through my mind. There simply had to be a reasonable answer to why the letters had been saved, perhaps the answer lay somewhere in the delicate handwriting of the mystery woman only known as Isabella. I prepared myself for what I was about to uncover. Between the letters there was a newspaper article. The headline read, Royal Navy traps Italian warships in waters between Greece and Crete. The Vittorio Veneto badly Damaged.

Before I could read any further, I was startled by the creaking of floor boards. I rushed to place the letters back where I had found them but, it was too late. Grandfather had caught me and was staring at me with his always sad but sweet eyes. Find anything interesting, he asked gently. I was looking for mom's old year book, I spouted, trying to come up with a lame excuse for being in the attic in the first place.

Well, I am sorry to say you won't find what you are looking for in there. He turned away from me and headed to the same chair I had been seated in only moments before. I headed over to him letters in hand and placed them on his lap. May I ask you a question? I looked at him kindly, hoping that he wouldn't be angry and that he would answer what I was about to ask. You may, but I am pretty sure I already know what you are going to ask.

Well if you know what I am going to ask, who was she?

Isabella, he sighed heavily and looked out

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>