When Fate Plays a Trick
After graduating from teacher training college, Marianne returned to her hometown village to teach at the very school she had attended. She adored her colleagues, loved the quaint little village, and missed her childhood home and parents terribly.
From childhood, Marianne had been best friends with her neighbour, Juliethough they were polar opposites. Marianne was always calm and thoughtful, while Julie was reckless, sharp-tongued, and never showed much respect for her elders. They were in the same class, and Julie was forever being scolded with, “Why cant you be more like Marianne?”
“Who needs Marianne? Ive got my own head on my shoulders,” Julie would retort.
“True enough,” the headmaster, Mr. Thompson, once remarked in Year 11 after yet another incident landed her in his office, “but a heads no use without a brain in it.”
“Whats she done this time?” he sighed.
Mrs. Wilkins, their form tutora dignified, grey-haired woman with decades of teaching under her beltnearly wept as she explained, “She told me I smell like a grave and should retire before I embarrass myself trying to teach anyone!”
Mr. Thompson was speechless. He tried to shame Julie into remorse, but she batted her eyelashes and declared, “I never said any such thing! Shes making it up!” Exasperated, he let her go. What else could he do?
After school, Marianne went off to university while Julie scraped into nursing collegenot out of passion, but necessity. Shed coasted through school copying Mariannes work and had few options.
Julie was stunninglong dark hair, perfect figurebut her bedside manner was dreadful. Working in the hospitals general ward, she had zero patience, especially with the elderly.
“These fossils should be in the ground, not wasting NHS money on their aches and pains,” shed scoff, leaving her colleagues horrified.
“Why even become a nurse if you hate it?” theyd ask.
“None of your business,” shed snap.
Complaints piled up until the ward manager overheard her reduce an old woman to tears. He fired her on the spot. “Youre done. Ill make sure no hospital touches you again.”
Back in town, Julie hunted for a wealthy husbandno luck. Men lost interest fast once they got to know her. Shed never felt guilty about anything. After three years, she slunk back to the village, having briefly worked as a supermarket cashier (hated that too).
“Hey, Marianne!” she chirped over the phone. “Guess what? Im moving home. Your mum works at the clinic, right? Put in a good word for me?”
The moment she arrived, Julie barged into Mariannes cottage.
“So, hows teaching those brats? Still surrounded by lunatics?”
Marianne ignored the jab, calmly pouring tea and setting out biscuits.
“Lets talk about you first. Last I heard, you couldnt wait to escape the village.”
Julie waved a hand. “Changed my mind. So, what about you? Found a husband yet?”
“Actually, yes,” Marianne smiled. “Tom proposed. Weddings in two months.”
Julie snorted. “Who, the geography teacher? Or that tractor bloke from the farm? Hardly a catch.”
“Toms a farmerowns livestock, machinery, employs half the village. Pays well, too.”
Julie burst out laughing. “The one decent bloke in this dump, and hes marrying you?” She eyed Mariannes curvy frame disdainfully. (Marianne wasnt fatjust softer, which suited her.)
Just then, a deep voice called, “Evening, love. Whos this?”
Julie froze. In the doorway stood a tall, handsome man in designer sportswear. Her stomach lurched with envy. No way this was Mariannes Tom.
“Julie,” she purred, switching to her sweetest tone. “You must be Tom. Mariannes said such lovely things.”
“Dont overdo it,” Tom chuckled, kissing Mariannes cheek.
They chatted for hours, but Julie barely listened. One thought consumed her: Tom should be hers. Shed spent years searching for a man like him, and here he waswasted on plain, boring Marianne. Time to fix that.
“Mum,” Julie demanded the second she got home, “why didnt you tell me about Tom? Hes perfect. And hes marrying that mouse Marianne!”
Her mum squeezed her shoulders. “Darling, youre ten times the woman she is. Well make him see that. But we must act fastthe weddings close.”
Their chance came sooner than expected. Julie ran into an old classmate, Lucy, at the clinic.
“Julie! Youre back! Come to my birthday party SaturdayMarianne and Tom are coming!”
“Wouldnt miss it,” Julie said, seething as Lucy climbed into her brand-new car. Even Lucy had a husband and a fancy life now? Unfair.
On the day, Marianne woke up ill but forced herself to get ready. When Tom arrived, she was pale as a sheet.
“You look awful,” he fretted. “Stay home.”
“Ill be fine,” she insistedthen swayed, nearly fainting.
Tom caught her. “Youre not going anywhere.”
“Just take the gift. Apologise to Lucy for me.”
At the pub, Julies eyes lit up when Tom walked in alone.
Perfect.
She glued herself to his side, plying him with food and drinksurreptitiously spiking his pints. Soon, he was slurring, confused. Julie “helped” him outside and flagged down a mate with a car.
“Toms had one too many. Drop us at mine, yeah?”
Her mum was conveniently “visiting Auntie.” Julie half-dragged Tom inside.
He woke the next morning, head pounding, to find Julie smirking beside him.
“No. No, no, no,” he groaned. “Did we?”
“Oh, yes,” she trilled.
Tom bolted, showered, and raced to Mariannesonly to be met by her furious mother.
“How could you? She adored you! And you throw it away for that trollop? Shes gone. Saw the photos you sent, too.”
“Photos?” Tom checked his phonea selfie of him and Julie in bed (hed been unconscious). His stomach dropped. Hed sworn hed never be like his cheating ex. Now this. He hurled the phone against the wall.
Tom avoided Julie, but she cornered him.
“Tom,” she whispered, “Im pregnant.”
His blood ran cold.
“Our babys innocent,” she pressed.
Tom, whod grown up fatherless, couldnt abandon a child. They married quietlyno white dress, no fanfare.
“Dont like it? Fine, well stay unmarried,” he snapped when she complained.
Their marriage was icy. Then Julie panickedshe wasnt pregnant. She called Lucy, a nurse.
“Help me fake a miscarriage. I cant stand kids anyway.”
She didnt notice Tom behind her. His face was thunder. The divorce was swift.
Later, Lucy took pity. “Tom Marianne had a son.”
His heart stopped. “Whose?”
“Yours, you idiot.”
Tom sped to the countryside, where Marianne was hanging laundry. A blue-eyed baby sat in a pram nearbyhis spitting image.
“Anton,” Marianne whispered.
Toms voice cracked. “Forgive me. Ill never leave you again.”
She did. In time, they had two more childrenand this time, fate got it right.
