That Is How Long I Have Loved You- Chapter 1

"Don't care about all the pain in front of me

Because I'm just tryin' to be happy." -Leona Lewis, "Happy"

August 1947

They said that it would be a good summer that year, weather-wise I mean. They were right. That day just so happened to be the warmest and sunniest day of the year. April didn't notice it, to be honest. She didn't notice the light streaming through the high, stained glass windows of the church, casting a rainbow of colours across the wooden floor. She didn't even notice the birds chirping outside, as though they were singing in time with the gentle organ music lulling in the background. She didn't notice those birds, only the ones fluttering around in her stomach, so nervous was she. She had to clasp her hands together in front of her to stop them visibly jittering. Her eyes darted anxiously around at all of the jovial guests chatting animatedly amongst themselves, happy for an occasion to break out their formalwear. They eventually rested their gaze onto the groom standing at the altar. Her heart skipped a beat. He looked just the way a groom should look: hair perfectly gelled to one side, a tuxedo with a slightly over-starched shirt collar and a smile that managed to convey elation, excitement and the faintest hint of nervousness all at once. Come on, you can do this, April thought to herself, you can do this. Suddenly the organ music grew louder as the Wedding March became audible throughout the room. As everyone shuffled to their feet, she couldn't help but lament on the events which had brought her to that day…

………………………………………….

August 20th, 1942- Toccoa, Georgia

Knapsack slung over her shoulder, 19-year-old April White pushed her way through the door into the central office of the Toccoa Enquirer local newspaper. She bent over, panting slightly.

"Run here, did ya?" Marcy, the blonde assistant to the Editor, said from behind her desk, peering over at April with an arched eyebrow.

"Just from…a couple…streets away," She made out between breaths.

"You look like you've run through a hedge backwards," The assistant joked, a devilish smile on her lips.

"Thanks…thanks very much. Geez, such a shame that Hank's got you in working on a Saturday, Marcy," She rolled her eyes, making her way to the Editor's office door. She motioned to it. "Is he in?"

"Yes…and waiting for you," Marcy called over her shoulder. "You're late."

"Damn," She whispered to herself, knocking sharply on the door and going inside.

Hank, the Editor-in-Chief of the Toccoa Enquirer stood at the side of his desk, perusing a sample of the latest front cover. He looked up as she came in. "Oh, there you are."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She shook her head apologetically at him. "It took me a little longer to develop them than I thought."

"You used that excuse already," He winked at her, his aging face creasing lightly as he did so. "Got them with you?"

"Of course," She reached into her knapsack, pulling out her recently developed photographs. "There you go."

He took them from her, putting on his specs to study them. After a minute or so he made a hmmm noise, nodding. "Not bad, not bad…except for this one."

"What?" She raised her eyebrows, taking it back off of him. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"In the background," He showed her. "I'm pretty sure that's Mrs Tomlinson from the library kissing someone who isn't Mr Tomlinson."

"Son of a gun," She peered closer. "So it is!"

He put a finger to his lips. "Discretion, April. Discretion."

"My lips are sealed," She made a locking and throwing away the key motion against her mouth before clearing her throat in anticipation. "So…do you think you'll use any of 'em."

"Well I need to give them to Marv in Photography for his professional opinion, but I like this one…you've got a shot with this one," he explained.

"Yes!" She pumped a fist in the air, momentarily forgetting that she should be maintaining an air of professionalism.

He laughed at her. "No promises, though."

"I know, I know," She said, catching a glimpse of the clock on his wall. "Shoot, I have to go. My shift starts at the diner in ten minutes."

"The diner, the diner, the diner," He rolled his eyes. "Need I remind you that your summer internship is here."

"Then make it a paid internship, Hank, and I will stay here" She joked, closing her knapsack over. "…otherwise I need to keep working at the diner…my new camera won't pay for itself!"

"Then you'd better go," He chuckled.

"See you Monday, Hank,"

…………………………..

April rushed into Mimi's diner, throwing her knapsack behind the counter and quickly throwing on her apron. She quickly swept her dark blonde curls up into a chignon. She positioned herself just behind the counter exactly as the clock struck 4 p.m. Ruthie, her best friend and co-worker, shimmied up by the counter, a heaped tray of empty glasses in her hands.

"Just made it," Ruthie winked at her. "Good thing Mimi is in the back doing her paperwork."

"If she asks I got here five minutes ago," April whispered, a finger to her lips.

"You're just in time for the rush," Ruthie joked, motioning to the packed diner behind them, full of khaki-clad soldiers and the young ladies of the town. Saturdays had always been a busy day for the diner, but even more so since the army training camp had opened a few miles west of Toccoa. The soldiers only had passes to get out on weekends, and the diners were usually their first port of call, to get a half-decent meal and a date if there was one going (which, judging by the amount of Khaki-Whackies packed into every available nook of the diner…it was!). It had become something of a ritual for Ruthie and April to wager on which girls would be the first to snare a soldier each weekend.

"So…verdict?" April asked, cocking her head to one side.

"You owe me a dime…," Ruthie stuck her tongue out, flicking her head towards a red-lipped girl with a black bouffant of hair. "It was Bernice."

"Damn it," She tutted, loudly, causing the brown-hair, chiselled soldier seated at the edge of the counter to look up from his book. She offered him a timid smile, blushing.

"You're going to talk to him today," Ruthie ordered to her in a whisper, grabbing two cheeseburgers from the hatch into the kitchen. "I'm not watching you moon over him for one more Saturday."

"No, I'm not," She replied, watching Ruthie walk out into the main floor of the diner with the burgers.

"Not what?" A voice called out from the other side of the counter.

Snapping back to reality, April looked over at the muscly, dark-haired soldier puffing away on a cigarette in front of her and looking every little bit as cocky as he had done when he first sat himself down at the counter in front of her some week previously. "Sorry, Bill, I was miles away. It's nothin'"

"I could tell," He smiled, flicking the ash on his cigarette. "A little service here?"

"Hey, what'd I tell you last week?" She said, jerking her head towards the sign on the wall behind her. "No smoking at the counter…put that thing out!"

"Geez, alright, alright," He rolled his eyes, stubbing out his cigarette against the formica. "You could have a future over at Toccoa, barking out orders like that."

"Well, rules are rules," She said simply, smiling as she shrugged her shoulders. "Now, what can I get you?"

"Burger…and a beer" He winked at her.

"Burger and a coke it is," She said, shaking her head amusedly at him. "Nice try, Bill…you know the liquor cabinet stays locked until 7.30 p.m."

"A guy can only try, right?" He reasoned, swivelling round in his stool to look out into the packed diner. "So come on April, any friends I might like in here today?"

"Well," April cocked her head to one side, indicating towards the furthest away window, where a girl sat with blonde, Heidi-esque, plaited hair. "That's Debbie. She works in the grocery store. She was in the year above me in high school…little slow on the uptake I s'pose, but a nice girl. You'd probably like her, Bill."

"Thanks," He said, winking at her and picking up his coke. Sliding a hand up to fix his hair, he moseyed over towards the blonde. "Just bring that burger over when it's ready, okay?"

"Talked to him yet?" Ruthie asked, walking back over, adding a little too loudly. "He's right over there, y'know."

"I had noticed…and keep your damn voice down!" She replied, blushing slightly as her eyes darted to the side of the bar. She looked at the brown haired soldier with the at the side of the bar, his nose stuck in a book and a coffee cup just by his hand. He sat in the same chair every Saturday with a different book, drinking cup after cup of coffee. He seemed to be a man of few words, certainly he'd never spoken to April except to ask her for a cup of coffee. She couldn't help but find him attractive though, the man who had more interest in his books than the local girls. Maybe it was the challenge element she liked.

"Well, no time like the present, right?" Ruthie ordered, nudging her in the ribs and pointing to him again.

"Yes, I will talk to him…but not today," She replied, butterflies in her stomach.

"Don't be such a yellow belly," Ruthie rolled her eyes, passing her the pot of coffee. "At least ask him if he wants a refill and take it from there "

Ruthie made her way back out into the diner to pick up empty plates. April looked at him, biting her lip nervously. She ambled over to him, putting a smile on her face. "Refill?"

He looked up, disturbed from his reading. He blinked, giving her a polite smile. "I'm sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?"

"Can I get you a refill?" She repeated.

"Oh," He said, peering at his coffee cup, probably not even knowing it was empty. "Yes, yes please."

She began to refill his cup, deciding to seize the opportunity. "What, um…what are you reading there?"

He tilted the cover up to show her.

She smiled approvingly. "Good choice."

"You've read it?" He asked, holding out a hand to show that she'd filled his cup up enough.

"Oh, well not really," She said, blushing. "My sister, though, she's the real reader in the family. It's her favourite."

"Your sister had good taste, then," He said, smiling slightly. "Not into books yourself?"

"I do read sometimes, just not as much as she does," She explained. "Photography is my real passion. That's why I work here. Every spare penny goes towards my camera."

"Gonna make a career out of it?" He asked.

"I wish," She gave a slight smile. "I don't see it happenin' though. I'm doing an unpaid internship at the local newspaper over the summer though."

"Unpaid? Ouch. Is your sister the other girl who works here?" He asked, indicating towards Ruthie.

"Oh, no, that's Ruthie," She corrected him. "My sister is in New York for the summer, working as a governess."

"Oh really?" he raised his eyes, interested. "I'm from New York."

"You are?" She asked, her turn to raise her own eyes. "I love New York. Well, I've never actually been, but I can't wait to go there."

"Got a trip planned?" He asked, curious.

"My sister and I are starting at Sarah Lawrence in the fall," She expained.

"That's a good school," He nodded approvingly. "What are you going there to study?"

"Me? History and Politics," She said, biting her lip. "But Amy, my sister, is reading literature."

"I study literature," He noted.

"You're a student?" She asked, frowning.

"I was…before all this," He rolled his eyes. "…at Harvard."

"Impressive,"

"Yeah," His eyes twinkled. A small lull settled over the conversation so he stood up, dog-earing the page he was at in his book before gently close it. "Well, I should really get going. I have a few things to pick up before heading back. It was nice to meet you though again…."

"April…April White,"

"Nice to meet you, April White," He smiled, nodding his head slightly. "David, David Webster."

"David Webster," She echoed under her breath as she watched him walk out of the diner.

………………………………

September 3rd, 1942- Georgia, Toccoa

Enjoying a rare Saturday off, April sat at home, fiddling with the dials on her camera in the family kitchen. A flash of light exploded as she accidentally hit the wrong button.

"Damn it," She said, taking out the pointless print.

"Mom! April cursed!" Her 12-year-old brother, Steven, cried out, appearing from behind her as if from nowhere.

She jumped slightly at his sudden appearance, tutting and giving him a gentle shove. "Shut up!"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Her mother tutted, walking into the kitchen with a handful of post.

"Hear what?" April smiled at her innocently.

"Mmm," Her mother raised her eyebrows as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "There's a letter from April on the counter."

"I'll read it in a minute," April said, her full attention on the camera.

"In a minute, in a minute," Her mother smiled fondly, knowing that April would pour over the letter later, such was the twin bond that her two girls shared. "What are you doing with your day then?"

"I'll head down to the diner later on tonight," She said absent-mindedly, polishing the shiny steel gently with a cloth.

"What?" Her mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. "It's your day off."

"Crazy," Steven muttered under his breath, sitting down opposite her and shaking his head.

"Yes, but my friends will be there," She replied, not looking her in the eye.

"And those soldiers, no doubt," Her mother said pointedly.

"They're nice, respectable young men, for the most part," She argued, pointing to her camera. "Besides, it makes for good subject matter."

"Are you allowed to take pictures of soldiers?"

"No one's stopped me yet," She smiled, winking at her. "Will you curl my hair for tonight?"

"Trying to impress anyone in particular?" Her mother asked.

"No," She shook her head. "Have you been asking Aunt Mimi to keep an eye on me? She keeps looking at me in the diner."

"No, darling," Her mother said innocently, a glint in her eye. "Would I?"

…………………………….

That night, April made her way to the packed diner, hearing the sounds of Glen Miller straining out long before it was even in her line of sight. The atmosphere was smokier and headier than during the day, such was the power of an evening liquor license. She pushed her way through the crowd, looking for Ruthie, spotting her sitting at a booth with some of their other friends and Bill Guarnere, amongst some other khaki-clad soldiers who were standing around the booth.

She leaned over the wooden bar at the top of the booth. "Evening, everybody."

"Hey, look who it is?" Bill said, swivelling round to look at her. "Make mine a Cheeseburger, eh?"

"Sorry, Bill. It's my night off," She shook her head, taking a seat on the edge of the booth. "I see you found Ruthie."

"Pfft, Ruthie found us," A soldier piped up from the other side of Bill.

"Lies," Ruthie shook her head. "I was just sittin' here with Jennifer mindin' our own business when these khakis showed up."

"Oh yeah? And who are your friends here, Bill?" She asked.

"This is Luz, Malarkey, Joe and Liebgott," He said, rhyming them off.

"Nice to meet you, fellas," She smiled, her eye catching a glimpse of David Webster sitting in his usual corner, the coffee substituted for a Scotch on the rocks. "What do you know about that guy, Bill?"

Bill swivelled round to look at him. "Web? He's a man of the company. Bit of a brain."

"Sits in that seat every Saturday," Ruthie told them.

"He's a good man," Bill nodded, looking at April. "Why? You sweet on him?"

"Course not, just surprising to see a soldier who isn't such a meathead like the rest'a you guys," She teased, ignoring a jab from Ruthie in the ribs as she hoisted her camera gently onto the table. "This is my only passion in life."

"Don't we just know it," Ruthie rolled her eyes, digging her friend again in the ribs.

Luz blinked. "Look at the size of that thing!"

"Alright, alright," She blushed. "It's not the latest model, but it's not the size of the equipment, it's how you use it."

"You hear that, Lieb?" Bill joked. "too bad, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, blushing slightly at the crass joke. "Besides, I'll have enough for a newer one, soon…after I've pulled a few more shifts in this place."

"Take a picture of all of us," Ruthie chirped.

"Yeah, yeah alright," April said, motioning for them to all move in closer. She took a picture. "Well at least smile, George, wont ya?"

"I am, smilin'!"

Click. Flash.

"Ok," She said, sitting back down. "Who wants to buy me a drink for that photo?"

She received a few pointed looks.

"I'm trying to buy a new camera," She shrugged innocently. "I'm saving all my money!"

"Alright, alright," Bill said, standing up. "Whaddya want?"

………………………….

One disgusting whiskey later and April was feeling a little looser, a little more liberated. To her amazement, she found it had quite an effect on her and she found herself floating around the diner taking photos of the soldiers in relaxation with each other and the locals. Even through her slight tipsiness she knew it would make for great material. Maybe she could convince Hank to do a feature on it. In her haze she found herself staring at David Webster once again. Through her artistic eye he looked visually stunning, his body slumped slightly over the formica as he pored over the pages in his book, one hand lightly gripping his glass. Without thinking, she aimed the camera at him and…clicking…sent a flash of light in his direction. He looked over at, his eyes wide in surprise. "What the hell?"

"I…I'm sorry," She said, lowering the camera and feeling rooted to the spot. "I was just taking a few photographs…since there's such a good atmosphere in here tonight."

"That's okay," he held up a hand, dismissively. "You just startled me, that's all."

"Well," She said, taking a step forward. "To capture life in it's most natural state you have to catch it unawares."

"I should be on my guard then?" He asked, chuckling lightly. "You really do like photography, don't you?"

"Only a little," She rolled her eyes.

He snapped his book shut, sitting up straight in his stool. "Got anything you can show me?"

She put an eager hand to her knapsack but stopped herself, groaning. "Would it look really pathetic if I said I happened to have a portfolio in here."

He couldn't help but laugh. "I'd call it prepared. Can I see?"

"Um…sure," She said, tentatively taking a seat in the empty stool next to him. She pulled the thinly-bound album out of her knapsack and spread it out on the counter in front of them.

He nodded in approval as she began to flick through the pages.

She tried to explain as many of the photographs as she could. "This is some of the grassland on the outskirts of Toccoa…near where your training camp is actually. This is a Shovelling Steve…"

Webster grimaced as he looked at the picture of the homeless old man wielding a shovel. "What the…?"

She laughed. "You haven't seen him around town? The man's practically an institution here. He swears there's treasure buried around the town, so he keeps trying to dig it up…no matter how much the police try to stop him!"

He burst out laughing, looking over at her animatedly and catching her eye. She blushed, looking back at the album. "Um...and this one is outside of my house…and this one is my sister and I…."

"Wow, who is who?" He joked, looking at the picture of the beaming twins.

"Everyone says that at first, but you can easily tell us apart," She pointed to Amy's hair. "She has darker hair."

He nodded, pointing to a photograph of an elderly couple sitting on a park bench. "Who are they?"

And that's how she spent the rest of the evening, showing him her photos. Occasionally when she turned a page her hand would gaze his ever so gently, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was the most exhilarated she'd ever felt. Up until that point, anyway…