DID I, DO I KNOW YOU? by John Townsend

It had been more than 40 years since we last met, heaven knows what she will think of me.

You see Marina and I, we were very good friends, who I hoped might hit it off, though it was all rural affection at the moment, but I was determined to win her over. Then one day I went out to do some shopping and when I returned, she was gone. I thought she had popped out as well, so I carried on as normal. Well after a couple of hours and an attempt to call her mobile, which I discovered she laft here at the flat, I was at a loss as to know what to think.
At the time we were staying in a rented flat in Porta Glasinna, Spain. We were on a mission to explore the Spanish countryside and find ourselves a studio to create and paint. We were very happy, young, stupidly funny, seldom had a cross word with each other, what happened just made no sense at all.
Anyway after 4 hours I called the police, who just seemed to find my concern amusing, suggesting that Marina had another love, and had simply walked out on me. After a couple of days they did open an enquiry and filed her as a missing person.
All her belongings were still at the flat, her passport, even the experts seemed baffeled as to her whereabouts.
I travelled through the loss, the challenges, along with the acceptance that this was almost a no answer situation. Then, after 4 months I had to leave Spain and return to the UK. It was there I used all the methods that I could to find her, trace her whereabouts. I used the media, posted internet site searches, and returned to Spain on a regular basis to retraces all the places and routes we had taken.
I was 22 then, now I am 62 and dying with a terminal condition, I say that to not gain sympathy just to help you understand my grief.
Well last week I was at my computer when I found an email which simply said 'Call me'. I could only go on the senders address that it had a route from Australia, anyway I hit reply and said, 'You said call, I am.'
Several hours later a reply dropped into my emails. 'I am sorry, Marina.' My blood pressure hit the roof and I thought it was a practical joke, then I saw there was an attachment, which I opened. It was a photograph of Marina,, one taken way back there in Spain 40 years ago, then there was another one, a beared man perhaps in his early sixties. There was nothing else, no further text, nothing. I hit reply and asked, 'Who are you?'
The following day I had to go to hospital for treatment, and was too crashed out to even open my computer. So it was the following day that I checked my emails, sure enough there was an email, this time it was a bit more detailed. ' I am the person you called Marina, but now I am Marty, I am sorry that I fooled you, I should have told you I was a man, the trouble was me, I was trying to push aside my gender, trying to hide in the affection you felt for me, but I realised it was not as I had hoped for, so I saved you the distress and left. My gender was not the problem it was your gender, I made a serious mistake. I am sorry. Please forgive me. I did try to find you, but you had left Spain, then I strayed across the world. I am sorry.'
I was too ill to show any real emotion, so I went to bed, I have asked my friend to finish the story.
Two days later:
Richard passed away during the night, he had not said a word since reading the email from Marina/Marty. Sadly he was a broken man throughout all those years, and in his last hours.