If Fate Decrees They Belong Together
Mary and her husband Michael returned home from the funeral wake weary and heavy-hearted. They had just buried Michaels mother, AnnaMarys mother-in-law.
“Well, now shes at peace,” murmured Michael. “Laid to rest beside Father, just as she always asked.”
“Yes,” Mary replied softly. “Though she knew wed bury her there, it was all she could think about in those last days. Poor soulsuch a cruel illness.”
That evening, husband and wife sat in quiet sorrow, each lost in their own memories. Marys thoughts drifted back to her life before marriage, a time with little joy. She had lost both parents young, when a fire swept through her grandmothers house after her grandfathers funeral. Mary had stayed home that night with her elder brother, Nick, and by morning, they were orphans. The villagers helped bury the dead, whispering that Grandad George had taken his wife and Marys parents with him.
Nick was seventeen then, Mary just thirteen. They lived alone in their little cottage after that. Nick worked on the farm, Mary went to school. Fate is different for everyonesome paths are harder than others, and Marys was one of the hardest. Even now, she could scarcely believe it had all truly happened.
Their village was smalljust forty-two houses. The school only went up to the lower forms, so from the fifth year onward, children walked three miles to the neighbouring hamlet. In winter, they took the shortcut across the frozen brook. Years ago, old Ned the carter had ferried them to school on Mondays in his horse-drawn cart, and fetched them back on Saturdays, but now the older boys, led by Mickthe headmans sonpreferred to walk home on their own.
Three miles wasnt so far, especially in a group. Alone, the woods were frightening, but together, the lads laughed and chattered, passing notes to the girls and arranging evening walks. Weekends were for dances at the village hall, where everyone gatheredyoung and oldsince films were rare treats.
Mary had gone to that school too. As she grew, the whole village noticed herangelic, fair, and gentle. Even the older lads couldnt help but stare. A glance from her could unsettle a boy for days, and the sound of her voice lingered like a sweet melody. She was everything one could hope forbright, kind, and lovely. But she was also an orphan, living in her brothers house. Nick had married a local girl, Betty, and they had a son.
Betty had no love for her sister-in-law. Though Mary did all she could to please her, she knew she was unwanted. “Once I finish school,” she often thought, “Ill leave for the town and train as a cook. Betty will never accept me, and I dont belong here.” She never complained to Nickthis was his family now, and she wouldnt come between them.
The village lads respected her. No one dared speak a cruel word, though many hoped she might one day choose one of them. But Mary was reserved, keeping them at arms lengthuntil word spread that she and Mick, the headmans son, were sweethearts. They walked hand in hand from school, strolled together in the evenings. Mick was tall and strong, no longer a boy but not yet a man, and just as clever as Mary. They made a striking pair.
“Like two doves,” the old women whispered. “A wedding wont be long now.”
But not everyone approved. Micks parents, Sam and Anne Higgins, were the wealthiest in the villageSam was the farm chairman, the first to own a motorcar, with a fine house and livestock aplenty. When he learned of his sons attachment to a penniless orphan, he was livid.
“Anna,” he told his wife, “what does that Mary think shes doing, setting her cap at our Mick? Pretty she may be, but shes got nothinglives off her brothers charity!”
“Hes smitten, Sam,” Anna fretted. “Out with her till all hours. And with no parents to keep her in checkthough they say shes modest.”
Sam had other plans. “I want him wed to a girl from a good familythe chief agronomists daughter, perhaps. Not as fair, but well set-up. Thats the match we need.”
When Sam tried to reason with Mick, the boy stood firm. “Marys the only one for me,” he said stubbornly.
Sam, unused to defiance, grew furious. “Youll do as youre told!”
But Mick wouldnt bend. Sam, realising force wouldnt work, turned to cunning instead. He knew Betty resented Mary, and money talked.
“Betty,” he said one day, “youve a kinswoman up north, havent you? An aunt?”
“Aye, Aunt Clara, in Yorkshire. But why?”
“Send Mary there. Ill pay you handsomely.”
Greed won. Betty persuaded Nick, and soon Mary, weeping, was packed onto a train with nothing but an address clutched in her hand.
Mick was heartbroken. He withdrew, barely speaking to his parents. When his call-up papers came, he left for the army without a word. For two years, his letters were cool and brief. Then, near the end of his service, he wrote:
“Prepare for a wedding. Im bringing my bride home.”
Sam crowed. “See? Hes forgotten her!”
The village buzzed. When the taxi pulled up outside the Higgins house, a crowd gathered. Out stepped Mick, tall in his uniform, and thena gasp.
Mary.
Dressed in white, radiant as ever.
“Heres my wife,” Mick announced, grinning.
The villagers cheered. Sam and Anna had no choice but to welcome her.
In time, they grew to adore her. Mick and Mary raised two sons in their own cottage, and when Sam passed, Anna soon followed. Mary nursed her tenderly, for her mother-in-law had become the mother shed lost.
Now, sitting quietly after the funeral, Mary and Michael let the silence settle. Grief would soften with time. Life went on.
