A Postcard for June

The postcard said, See you in June. It arrived in October, addressed to a woman who had never lived in Mae’s flat.

Mae could have returned it to the post office. Instead, she recognized the hotel in the photograph and remembered how long it had been since she had seen the sea.

At reception, a woman in a yellow sweater was asking whether any mail had been forwarded to her old address. Her name was June.

Mae held out the postcard. They looked from it to each other, then laughed at the same time.

The message had come from June’s sister, who had meant to write the name of the hotel and run out of space. The long-awaited family reunion had taken place months ago.

‘So you came all this way to deliver an old postcard?’ June asked.

‘There was a sea in the picture.’

June offered to show her the path down to it. They walked past the shuttered ice cream stall and the boats pulled high on the beach. On the way back, they booked a table for dinner.

Years later, the postcard hung beside their front door. Visitors always asked about the message. June would smile and say that it had arrived at exactly the right time.