this war-torn country needs, it is white doves. I pray the UN will truly manage to
make peace in the world some day.
P.S. Maybe your birthday present can be shared with other people. Let’s talk
about that when I get home. But you still have no idea what I’m talking about, right?
Love from someone who has plenty of time to think for the both of us.
When they had read six cards, there was only one left. It read:
Dear Hilde, I am now so bursting with all these secrets for your birthday that I
have to stop myself several times a day from calling home and blowing the whole
thing. It is something that simply grows and grows. And as you know, when a thing
gets bigger and bigger it’s more difficult to keep it to yourself. Love from Dad.
P.S. Some day you will meet a girl called Sophie. To give you both a chance to
get to know more about each other before you meet, I have begun sending her copies
of all the cards I send to you. I expect she will soon begin to catch on, Hilde. As yet
she knows no more than you. She has a girlfriend called Joanna. Maybe site can be of
help?
After reading the last card, Joanna and Sophie sat quite still staring wildly at
each other. Joanna was holding Sophie’s wrist in a tight grip.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“So am I.”
“When was the last card stamped?”
Sophie looked again at the card.
“May 16,” she said. “That’s today.”
“It can’t be!” cried Joanna, almost angrily.
They examined the postmark carefully, but there was no mistaking it... 05-16-
90.
“It’s impossible,” insisted Joanna. “And I can’t imagine who could have written
it. It must be someone who knows us. But how could they know we would come here
on this particular day?”
Joanna was by far the more scared of the two. The business with Hilde and her
father was nothing new to Sophie.
“I think it has something to do with the brass mirror.”
Joanna jumped again.
“You don’t actually think the cards come fluttering out of the mirror the minute
they are stamped in Lebanon?”
“Do you have a better explanation?”
“No.”
Sophie got to her feet and held the candle up in front of the two portraits on the
wall. Joanna came over and peered at the pictures.
“Berkeley and Bjerkely. What does that mean?”
“I have no idea.”
The candle was almost burnt down.
“Let’s go,” said Joanna. “Come on!”
“We must just take the mirror with us.”
Sophie reached up and unhooked the large brass mirror from the wall above the
chest of drawers. Joanna tried to stop her but Sophie would not be deterred.
When they got outside it was as dark as a May night can get. There was enough
light in the sky for the clear outlines of bushes and trees to be visible. The small lake
lay like a reflection of the sky above it. The two girls rowed pensively across to the
other side.
Neither of them spoke much on the way back to the tent, but each knew that the