‘There bow, isn’t that a lot of noise so early in the morning? It’s just a letter for Minnie, a letter from a shop. Be a good boy, go and tell Minnie I have a love letter for her … Is that you, Minnie? I thought old Ben was going to bite my leg off then. Yes, Minnie, a fine morning, it is that…’
I have never liked that postman – he is only interested in people that he thinks are important in the island – but that morning he came past my window like a messenger of light. He opened the door without knocking (I am not an important person). He said, ‘Letter from far away, Captain.’ He put the letter on the chair nearest the door.
I was opening my mouth to say, ‘I’m not very well. I wonder …’ But if any words came out, they were only ghostly whispers.
Stanley looked at the dead fire and the closed window. He said, ‘Phew! It’s airless in here, Captain. You want to get some fresh air …’ Then he went, closing the door behind him. (No message would do to Andrina, then, or to the doctor in the village.)
I thought, until I slept again, about the last letter people write before dying …