I've been messing with this for ages and thought I'd bite the bullet and finally post the first bit of it
!Soeur Marie-Cécile, or Robin Humphries as she was still known to many, had been waiting for this moment all day. Well, ever since the post had arrived, anyway. She smiled in wry amusement. Approaching middle age by some people’s standards if not her own, over fourteen years spent at La Sagesse, and she still awaited the arrival of the post as eagerly as she’d done when she’d been an eighteen-year-old in her first few weeks at Oxford.
She thought back to those days, and how excited she’d be when she saw that there were letters for her. “Oh look, it’s from Joey!” she’d cry. Or “It’s from Madge!” or “It’s from Daisy!”. Those around her, curious about their new college-mates, would smile at her animation and ask whom all these people were. And she’d try to explain. “Joey’s my sister. Well, sort of. And Madge is Joey’s sister, but she’s more like an auntie to me. Sort of. And Daisy … well, she’s like a cousin. Well, sort of.” And the other girls would look confused, but they’d not politely and say things like “Ah, I see”. She’d know that they didn’t “see” at all; and she could well understand why, because her family situation was enough to confuse anyone; but it hadn’t mattered. She’d been part of the family and that had been all that had been important.
There were no letters from either Madge or Daisy or Joey today; but she hadn’t been expecting any. She’d had a letter from Madge the previous week and so she wouldn’t receive another one until next week. Madge’s letters always came once a fortnight, unless she were on holiday and unwell. Robin sometimes suspected that Madge set aside a regular amount of time every two weeks for writing letters, and copied out much the same thing to send to any number of people; but that was understandable. She was a busy person, after all. And Daisy was even busier, with her work and her young family: it was no wonder that there were sometimes long gaps between her letters.
As for Joey, it had been a while she’d heard from her but there was nothing unusual in that: she’d get a letter at some point, starting off with all sorts of news about the children and the school and the latest gossip from various other Chalet School girls, and then saying that there was far more that she had to tell her but that she really did have to do this, that or the other so she’d have to save it until she had more time. Joey was always rushing around so much and kept in touch with so many people that it wasn’t surprising that she never had time to finish what she’d been saying: it was a little frustrating sometimes, but it was quite understandable.
She appreciated the fact that people took the time to write to her at all, knowing how much all those with whom she’d once lived had going on their lives, and she hoped that they were glad to receive her letters too. She led a busy life herself – and that was why she’d had to wait so long before finally having time to sit down in peace and quiet and go through the three envelopes which were waiting impatiently for her to slit them open and enjoy their contents.
Which one should she turn to first, she wondered, fingering the pile and savouring that moment of choice. She recognised the flamboyant handwriting on the uppermost envelope as belonging to Zephyr: theirs had been an unlikely friendship in many people’s eyes but it had stood the test of time and they still corresponded, not particularly often but not infrequently either. And the middle one was from Adrienne. She smiled fondly. Adrienne was very special to her, and – she hoped – they had a good relationship, despite her regrets that they hadn’t come to know each other sooner and that, having eventually discovered that each was the second cousin that the other had never known existed, they’d never really had the chance to spend much time together. And, finally, the very thick envelope at the bottom of the pile was from Con.
Dear Con, to whom she felt so close even though they hadn’t met in almost a decade and a half. She closed her eyes for a moment, and remembered Con as a little girl, earnestly insisting that the lady in the village shop in Howells had remarked on the resemblance between the two of them. Any family resemblance between the two of them must be purely coincidental, obviously; but she’d been so touched by the little girl’s eagerness to make it clear that to her “Auntie Rob” was as much part of the family as anyone else was, blood tie or no. She remembered another thoughtful gesture too, the letter that Con had sent her inviting her to attend the Chalet School’s twenty-first anniversary celebrations “because even though I know you won’t be able to come I didn’t want you to feel left out”.
Con had written her a long letter after those celebrations, telling her everything that had happened. All the events at the school. And the visit to the Tiernsee. Back where it had all begun. Back in Tyrol.
She shuddered for a moment; and not just because of the “bracing cold” which Jack and Jem had always talked about so much every time that Canada had been mentioned. She’d loved Tyrol; but even now she sometimes had nightmares about their last days there. That day in Spartz …no, no; she wasn’t going to think about that now. She wasn’t. She’d been looking forward to reading these letters all day, and she wasn’t going to let bad memories from quarter of a century ago spoil them for her.
. Just a note - I know that EBD places La Sagesse in Toronto, but I'm sure she meant Montréal so I've set it in Montréal. It doesn't really matter because most of this isn't about Robin despite the start 
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Can't wait to see who the well known signature is
) Hoek van Holland, which means "Corner of Holland", but it's referred to as "the Hook of Holland" in English. 
It's time to get up, your fans await! (Especially the ones who have been up all day already. You're ruining your wonderful reputation of posting every day! 
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Thanks Alison, it's wonderful having a fascinating story updated as faithfully as you do.