Part 1: 2025-2027

— 2025 —

Good morning my love,

It's late evening here, but even though I've been here a few days I still haven't quite adjusted to the time difference. I wonder if you're up yet? I have the feeling you might be making the most of your newfound freelance hours to have a lie-in.

You were being truthful when you said you didn't mind us emailing one another rather than calling, weren't you? I know how generous you are in letting me do things my way, but I do worry sometimes whether it's really what you want. If you do want to call or video chat, I will have my phone with me, just don't be surprised at my awkwardness! I know you're used to that now but with the time delay, I guarantee it's even worse.

Anyway, I expect you want to hear about Shanghai, the 'new financial capital of the world', as my new editor keeps on reminding me. As we were flying into the airport, the first thing that struck me is just how huge it is. Not a very original thought, but it's true! The city stretches for miles and miles, and is so densely packed with buildings you feel like there is hardly room to breathe. And that's the second thing I noticed, as soon as we left the airport: the air pollution. I knew it would be bad, especially at the moment with their weather, but I've never experienced anything like it. You feel it at the back of your throat as soon as you take a breath. Bertram describes it as like drinking a bad whisky. We got the face masks on immediately, but you can still feel it in your eyes, on your skin, in your hair. Not pleasant at all.

Bertram and I went straight to the hotel from the airport. He had his camera out from the moment he got in the taxi, snapping pictures out the window. I'm trying not to let on it's my first time in China, but I think he suspects. I know I have made lots of silly tourist errors already, and plenty more I haven't noticed, I'm sure. He's definitely one of the 'old guard', sent with me to keep an eye on me. I know it's stupid but I'm already doubting myself. I find myself wondering whether I got the job just to fill a diversity quotient. I know you will tell me this worrying is all in my head, but I have big shoes to fill.

That reminds me: thank you so much for going to Raymond's funeral in my stead. I'm glad a big crowd turned up. Someone put pictures on Twitter, which I thought was insensitive, but I suppose that's what happens if you associate with journalists. He was one of those people I wish I had known better. I always just assumed there will be time later, you know? I could have done with a few pointers for this role, if nothing else.

You remember how I told you Raymond got caught in the wildfires down in Sydney? I had assumed he had been on assignment, but Bertram said he was just visiting some elderly relatives. I guess the fires are not so newsworthy anymore, in any case. He was pushing his great aunt up a hill in her wheelchair, trying to get away from the fire. He must have been breathing deeply from the effort and that is why the smoke got him so bad. The old lady was fine, apparently. You probably know all this from the funeral anyway, but I can't stop thinking about it. What an awful way to go.

Now I am in country, I am giving some real thought to what the article will focus on. My editor wants it to focus on China's economy overtaking the US, but that has already become such a tired old story. I wondered if the energy angle might be worth considering. I saw acres and acres of solar panels from the plane, which is what gave me the idea, although I've heard there's still a lot of coal being burned here too. I might be able to tie in air pollution somehow. All the environmental debate that goes on back home, about Europe not doing enough, there's always somebody droning on, "What about China?". Maybe I can answer that question!

I want to hear all your news too. Any new projects? How is Mothy settling in? And all the Croydon crew still behaving? Our honeymoon feels so recent, and so long ago too, all at the same time. This is the first time we've been apart since our wedding, isn't it? It's funny, you know, writing to you like this. I feel I can say a lot more. I know I'm not the best communicator in person, but I'm working on it. Yesterday I was feeling creative, and maybe a little lonely, so I've written you a (bad) poem. I think I will stick to factual articles in the future, but I hope you like it anyway!

Love,

Maria x

When I see the streetlights shining in the rain, I think of you.

When I see the mist rising from the buildings, I think of you.

When I see the hues of the sky change from blue, to red, to deep purple, I think of you.

When I see life, I think of you.

————

My gorgeous Maria,

First of all, thank you for such a beautiful poem. I wish I could write like you. I find it very attractive, as I hope you know by now. Just one of the many reasons I married you. The photos from the wedding finally arrived yesterday, and they're fantastic – I can't wait to show you.

Shanghai sounds like a really interesting place, even if it is smoggy! What are the people like? Are you doing any interviews? I like your idea for an energy angle too. I saw on Instagram that China produces nearly all the solar panels in the world – but you might want to check that!

Raymond's funeral was a very graceful affair. I didn't know anybody there apart from Joanna and Christine, but the whole ceremony was very moving, and they talked a lot about his self-sacrifice. His great aunt was there, in fact. I thought about saying hello but she seemed rather distraught. I'm sure Raymond would be proud of you taking up the reins. And you know what I think about your self-doubts too. You're amazing. Don't ever forget it.

Freelancing is going fine, and you'll be pleased to hear I got up at the very human time of 8.30 this morning. I have a new project from some development consultancy that's doing something for the government – flood barriers mostly. It's a growing market. They just want a couple of leaflets putting together, nothing taxing. I just have to convince them that beige and yellow might not be a winning colour scheme! Snarky Stephen phoned me up as well yesterday, basically begging me to take my job back. He said he'd pay me a lot more, but there's no way I'm ever stepping foot in that place again. If he needed me so much, he should have treated me nicer.

Mothy has calmed down a lot, and her coat is looking sleeker by the day. She still won't let me touch her, but I can at least enter the same room as her now without her running for cover. No wonder she's so nervous, given what the shelter said had happened to her – enough to traumatise anybody. But I have hopes she'll be a lap cat in no time! I checked the tenancy contract and it doesn't actually mention pets. It's not like Maureen ever checks up, anyway – and who knows, now we're both earning more, perhaps we will have a better place to live soon, one fit for a queen and her noble cat (and husband, if he's allowed).

I've only seen the Croydon crew once since you left, but they're all going strong as usual. Marcus is thinking of moving in with his weird new boyfriend already, and we're trying to persuade him not to. It'll end in tears! Maybe you can put a word in his ear when you're back. And Abby is still moaning about all her problematic housemates and their drunken parties, so we're trying to persuade her to move out. Don't move, do move - always complicated, isn't it!

Of course I'm fine with sticking to emails rather than phoning. Long distance phone calls are always awkward, you're right. It's quite nice, actually, writing things down. I used to write to my grandma like this when she was alive. It's a good nostalgic feeling. And it means we'll have a record to look back on when we're old and grey. So, in the spirit of putting things down in the permanent record, and because I'm feeling sentimental (but not creative enough to write a poem), here are some things I hope you bear in mind:

I love you, and plan to continue loving you always.

People talk about you behind your back. Usually saying how incredible you are.

I still don't know why you chose me, but I will make sure you never regret your decision.

Loving you always,

Jonah x

— 2026 —

Hey my love,

You must tell me: how did the move go?? Sorry I wasn't home to help. I'm sure the Croydon crew lent you a hand. It feels like it all happened so fast, but I'm so relieved it's over. You'll have to let me know what the new place is like – I mean properly like, not just what we saw from the estate agent! We are real adults now, with a mortgage and everything… It still doesn't feel real. Is Mothy coping? Don't let her run away, whatever you do.

It feels like a strange time here in Naples. There are boats arriving all the time, all packed with migrants from all over North Africa and Middle East. It's hard to know whether they're fleeing the droughts, or the unrest, or something else entirely. The refugee camps on the edges of the town are expanding daily. There are lots of police about, but they all look like they're sleepwalking. I haven't seen any signs of trouble, although Bertram said he saw a fight, he thinks over religious differences. We can all feel the tension building in any case.

Bertram is finally opening up, after an entire year of rushing around the globe with him. He is not a very happy man. He told me his wife died a few years ago, and his kids don't speak to him either. I was thinking we could invite him round for dinner, once we're settled in the new place? It would be a kind gesture.

Anyway, back to the article. I am taking it as a sign of confidence in me that I was sent here, given the complexity of the situation. It's very flattering but it doesn't make the writing any easier! I heard that the Mafia was involved in migrant trafficking somehow, but I'm not sure I am brave enough to investigate that. Bertram suggested we focus on individual stories, but I feel the language barrier is too much. The crash courses in Arabic and Hebrew I took last winter are helping, but I've also heard Pashto, Berber, and several more I couldn't hope to recognise. There are so many languages bouncing about that it feels like hundreds of different stories are happening at once. Let me know if you have any bright ideas!

I'm going to reroute via Barcelona on the way back to check in on the parents. Just for a few days, so I hope you don't mind. My frequent flyer card means it won't cost me any extra. Mum and Dad are both fine, just finding all the unrest there a bit exhausting. It's no worse than it was when it was all taking off ten years ago, but I suppose they're older now and feel just that little bit more vulnerable.

I meant to remind you: it's Abby's thirtieth this Saturday, and she is having drinks at The Crown up in Clapham. She's wanting to go out afterwards, but I think she might struggle to persuade the others! Haven't we all become so boring? Abby might be the oldest of our little gang but she's perhaps the only one that's managed to remain young at heart. I was thinking we could get her a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. You know how she still moans about her housemates. Can you order them please? It's difficult to get good WiFi here, too many people in the town I think!

We are visiting one of the larger refugee camps on the outskirts this evening. I am a little nervous, but I think if we are to pick up a good story anywhere, that will be the place to find it. Wish me luck!

Lots of love,

Maria x

————

My darling Maria,

Naples sounds like something else! I've had a mull over your article question, but to be honest I'm drawing a blank too. 'Migrant crisis' is such a meaningless phrase, isn't it? Maybe we used the word 'crisis' too early back in the 2010s, and it's lost all its power. A sort of boy-who-cried-wolf type issue.

Do stay safe at the camp. I bet it'll be a fascinating place, although hard-hitting too I would think. I find it so difficult to imagine what it would be like to leave behind everything familiar to you, in search of some totally uncertain 'better future' – what a gamble. It can only be borne out of desperation. Impossible to properly relate to, from our pampered Western existence.

The new place is all we hoped for! Waking up in the mornings and seeing the Thames right outside the window is so good for the soul. There was some kind of regatta going on yesterday morning – I sat on the balcony with my coffee and watched all these little white boats sail past. The only thing that could make it better is, of course, you being here too – but I don't have too long to wait. Marcus and his new boyfriend Jules gave me a hand with the move. Jules seems like a great guy, much better than the last one, but maybe I'm just biased because he lent me his van! Mothy seems to have taken to the place well. She was a little intimidated at first, but I woke up this morning to find her at the foot of the bed just like she would in the old place, so I think she'll be feeling right at home in no time at all.

Otherwise not much to report. Probably the most dramatic development is all the shops are clean out of hummus! Presumably it's linked to the droughts in the Middle East, not quite as life-changing for me as it is for the people that you are meeting, I'm sure. It did make my vegan efforts a little challenging though, and I must confess I bought a bit of cheese for my sandwiches. A little now and then doesn't hurt, right?!

No worries about swinging by Spain. Say hi to your parents for me. It's been a while since we've seen them. Plane prices are such a killer these days – you're very lucky you get it covered. Don't lose that gold mine! I might actually use the time to head up to Spalding and call in on my own folks. They're just pottering on, same as usual. Last I heard, they're thinking of buying a boat on the Norfolk broads.

Thanks for the reminder about Abby's birthday. Headphones sounds like a good practical present. I might supplement it with a box of chocolates or similar, something a bit more luxurious. I'll support her in her efforts to persuade the crew to hit the clubs, we're not old and boring yet!!

Do let me know how the camp visit goes. Stay safe.

Love,

Jonah x

— 2027 —

Hi love,

First of all, because it is fresh in my mind, you will never guess who I bumped into up here in Edinburgh! None other than Aunt Gloria, still just as dizzy as ever. She was visiting friends and then got caught out by the rise in cross-border rail prices after Scexit. She didn't think to buy tickets in advance. She should have seen it coming a mile away, honestly! She was quite glad to see me; she has trouble understanding the Scottish accent, so I think it was a relief to be able to return to Spanish for a while. I let her tag along with me while I went around interviewing politicians and lobbyists, and now she has drifted down to Durham to stay with an old friend. Do you think she will ever settle somewhere?

Edinburgh is pretty but it is bitterly cold here, the coldest for seventeen years according to the taxi driver. The cobbles are treacherously icy. I brought those purple gloves your parents gave me, but I had to buy another pair and wear both at once to keep warm! Michael is with me this time, as Bertram is down with the flu. Michael does not like the cold one bit, and nor does his camera, which is playing up big time. His last assignment was in Bermuda, which was undoubtedly a much more pleasant climate.

Funnily enough, the city is very normal at the moment. There isn't much to photograph, and all the politicians are just giving us the bland speeches they prepared two months ago. The independence referendum went exactly how everyone expected it to. There are reporters all over the place, mostly recording these thirty-second video bytes that all the big news outlets have started doing. I feel very old-fashioned trying to pen out another long-form article. To be honest, it felt old-fashioned even before I entered the industry, but the demand seems to still be there. I wonder who reads them?

What's new at home? Have you seen Christine's new baby yet? Isn't it funny how we lived next door to her and her husband for almost a year, and only realised when I caught the same Tube home with her! A reminder to not always talk shop with my colleagues. (Is that the right phrase?)

Do fill me in when you can! I want to hear all about that new project you had too.

Love,

Maria x

————

My lovely Maria,

Wow, it sounds chilly! If I'd thought about it, I would have lent you my ski gloves. They've only been gathering dust since Mum and Dad stopped skiing. I keep telling them they should look at other resorts – there are plenty still open, after all – but you know how they're so set in their ways.

So strange that you would find Aunt Gloria, there of all places! I hope you let her know she's always welcome in the spare bedroom here if she needs it – although let's say a fortnight maximum, even though she's great I don't think I could cope with her humming for longer than that. I hope she finds some direction soon.

Only thing to report here is that Marcus and Jules lost their van in the floods. They stupidly parked it on that car park right by the river – near where we saw that lost dolphin one time, do you remember? The van is still there but the engine is destroyed. The rest of the Croydon lot and I were thinking about chipping in to get a new engine for them, but by God are they expensive. Bad thing about freelance work is no Christmas bonus, so just as skint as ever!

New project is fine, but a bit sketchy. It's for an investment company's annual report, and a mighty chunk of their pie chart is sunk in oil. You would never think it these days, but I suppose it still must be profitable. Anyway, the job pays well, so I can't really afford to turn it down.  I haven't told Abby – I don't think she'd approve. You know what an eco-warrior she is. But my vegan diet offsets it, right??

Everything else is just ticking along as per. I'm feeling a bit cooped up as I haven't been able to go running recently. The path by the river is still flooded, and everywhere else close by is so polluted it feels like it's doing me more harm than good. Maybe I'll have to finally relent and hit the gym!

Looking forward to seeing you home soonish. Even though you're much closer than most of your assignments, it still feels far away. Mothy misses you too.

Love,

Jonah x