Soldier on Her Doorstep Read Online Free PDF

He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. “Are you sure? I can pitch my tent out back.”
    Lisa laughed. “Oh, no, you won’t. Come on—I’ll show you the guestroom.”
    Alex hesitated. “I’ve got my camping gear…”
    â€œDon’t be silly. The bed is made. You can get a good night’s sleep. Come on,” she said firmly.
    He didn’t look entirely comfortable about the situation, but he didn’t argue. She smiled.
    Resigned acceptance traced across his face. “I’ll…ah…just grab my things from the car.”
    Lisa went to flick the switch on the kettle. She reached for an oversize mug and stirred in some of her homemade chocolate.
    By the time he reappeared, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, she had a steaming mug of hot chocolate waiting for him.
    â€œThis is for you,” she said, passing the cup to him before walking off.
    She led the way up the stairs. She didn’t turn, but she could hear him following. The treads creaked and groaned under his weight, as they had done under hers. She led him to the third bedroom and stepped aside so he could enter.
    His big frame seemed to fill the entire room. The spare bed looked too small for him. She stifled a laugh. He looked like a grown-up in a playhouse.
    â€œJust call if you need anything. Bathroom’s the last room down the hall.”
    He nodded.
    â€œWell, good night then,” she said.
    â€œNight,” he replied.
    Lisa pulled the door shut behind him. And walked away.
    The image of him standing forlorn, bag over one shoulder and hot chocolate in hand, stayed with her, though.
    She went back down the stairs, careful to avoid the noisy steps, and flicked off the lights. She reached to switch on a lamp instead.
    The paper bag Alex had given her rested on the side table. Her fingers took ownership of it. Lisa found herself wondering whether the bag had come with Alex from war or if it was something he had put the items in after he’d arrived home.
    She tipped out the contents. A crinkled photo of Lilly fell on to her lap. Lisa retrieved it and held it up to the light. Lilly was maybe four years old in the shot. Her blonde hair was caught into a tiny ponytail, and she was sitting on the grass.
    Lisa remembered the day well. William had been between postings. They’d had an entire summer together—probably the best summer of her life. Lilly had been entertaining them right up until that moment, when she’d gotten a bee sting.
    It had been William she’d run to for comfort. It always had been when he’d been home. Like she wanted to spend as much time with her daddy before he left as possible.
    Lisa put the photo back on the table. She reached for William’s tags this time, and slung them around her neck. The cool hit of metal chilled her chest, but she didn’t remove them. Instead she let her left hand hover over them. Feeling him. Remembering him. Loving him.
    Then she took the letters out. There were three of them in total. She guessed he had been waiting for an opportunity to send them.
    Her heart skipped when she unfolded the first one. Saw his neat, precise writing as it filled the page.
    To my darling wife.
    He’d always started his letters the same way. He hadn’t been one of those soldier husbands who’d been macho and brave with his family. He’d always told her he loved her on the phone,whenever he’d been able to call, regardless of how many men surrounded him. They’d always been close.
    Lisa bit the inside of her lip as a wave of tears threatened. Her bottom lip started to quiver and she pushed her teeth in harder. But every word she read, every sentence that pulled her into his letter, made more tears form, until they rained a steady beat on her cheeks.
    She could taste them as the salty wetness fell, trickling into her mouth.
    William had died months ago, and in the year before that she’d