Gifting has never been easier
Perfect if you're short on time or are unable to deliver your gift yourself. Enter your message and select when to send it.
Eadie folded closed the letter she had just read. The crease lines in the beautiful mulberry paper were sharp and perfect. She studied the raw edges of the hand-crafted paper. It was beautiful, exquisite paper, very similar to the paper she used to write letters to her friends when she wanted them to remember her words. Usually, words of appreciation or gratitude.
Never words like the ones she had just read.
The writer’s name was Camille. Eadie had always admired that name. It was soft, and elegant, like a perfect dew drop falling from a leaf. But there was nothing soft in Camille’s message. Eadie’s world stopped in time. Suspended. She looked at the words over and over again but could not digest the meaning.
I do not mean to disturb you, or disrupt your life, but I have important news to share with you, and I think you have a right to know.
Eadie wished she hadn’t opened the letter. The handwriting was beautiful and gentle. It was obviously written with thought and eloquence. She was unfamiliar with name, but the senders address on the back of the envelope was an area she was familiar with. Eadie and her Mother used to travel to that barrios in Argentina frequently when she was a little girl. Her father used to spend 4 months each year in Recoleta on business. Her mother and her would usually stay with him in his rented apartment for 2-3 weeks, before returning to the family home in Paris.
Eadie hadn’t been to Argentina since her parents were both killed in a car accident when she was 11. She had been at home with her Grandmother in Paris, when they heard of the accident. Her parents had been holidaying in Nice and were driving home after 7 days away. Her father had fallen asleep whilst driving the car. She remembers her grandmother stumbling and sliding down the wall in grief when they received the phone call. Over 25 years had passed since then.
Eadie was his little girl, his pride and joy, his cherished princess. Eadie remembered her excitement the night before her father would return from his many trips abroad. He would always give her a beautiful, beaded hairpin from wherever he had been. She still had the collection to this day. 72 beautiful, ornate, exquisite hairpins that she often wore to keep her memory of her father close. She felt his presence and protection when she wore them.
But this? Eadie couldn’t comprehend it. Was her father really the man she thought he was? Interestingly, she didn’t question Camille, or her intention or honesty. Eadie instinctively knew she was speaking the truth.
Did her mother know about Camille? Was her father and Camille’s mother’s relationship a short affair? How did Camille’s mother know about Eadie…her address, and why was she insistent Camille tell Eadie this news? Why now, after so many years had passed?
Eadie had so many questions. Eadie also had no family members to go to for answers. Eadie was the only family member remaining on both her mother’s and father’s side.
Or so she thought.
Even though in her head she hadn’t decided if she would travel to Ravello, she knew in her heart she was going. She had to meet Camille.
Explore the new "Allegria" collection inspired by this story.