If Fate Wills It
Mary and her husband Michael returned home weary and sombre after the funeral. They had buried Michaels mother, AnnaMarys mother-in-law.
“Shes at peace now, laid to rest beside Father,” Michael murmured. “She spoke of nothing else while she was ill, kept begging us to do it.”
“Yes,” Mary replied softly. “Though she knew we wouldnt bury her anywhere else, it was all she could think about. Shes free of that wretched illness nowcruel and relentless.”
That evening, the couple sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Mary reflected on her life, particularly before her marriage. There had been little joy in those years. She had lost both parents youngtheyd perished in her grandmothers house one night after her grandfathers funeral, when the old home caught fire, trapping them inside.
Mary had stayed behind with her older brother, Nick, that evening. By morning, they were orphans. The village helped bury the family, whispering that their grandfather had “taken his wife and his childrens parents with him.”
Nick was nearly grown at seventeen; Mary just thirteen. They lived together in the family home after that. Nick worked on the farm, Mary attended school. Fate deals different hands, and Marys had been a harsh one. Even now, she sometimes struggled to believe it had all truly happened.
Their village was smalljust forty-two houses. The school only taught the youngest children; from age ten, pupils walked three miles to the next village. In winter, they could cross the frozen river to shorten the journey. Years ago, old Ned had driven the children there by horse every Monday, bringing them back on Saturdays, but the older boys often preferred to walk, especially in autumn and spring.
Mick, the village chairmans son, was their ringleader.
“Anyone walking home today, meet by the bench after lessons,” hed announce. “Well go together.”
Three miles wasnt so far, and there was safety in numbers. The lads fancied the girls, passing notes, asking them to meet in the evenings. By Monday, everyone knew who had walked whom home, who fancied whom. Back then, village life was livelyif someone stepped out, theyd drift toward the clubhouse. Films were rare, so even the adults would gather there.
Mary attended that school too. As she grew older, the village couldnt take its eyes off her. Beautiful, gentle, almost angelic, she drew attention from boys her age and older. A single glance from her could unsettle a lad for days; her soft voice lingered in their ears long after shed spoken.
She was near perfectbright, kind, lovely. Her only flaw, in some eyes, was being an orphan. She lived with Nick, now married to a local girl, Lucy, with a son of their own.
Lucy resented her. No matter how hard Mary triedhelping with chores, staying out of the wayshe felt like a burden.
“Ill leave after school,” she told herself. “Train as a cook in town. Lucy will never accept me, and theyve their own family now.”
She never complained to Nick, not wanting to sow discord.
The boys respected her; none dared speak ill of her. They hoped, in time, she might choose one of them. But Mary was reserved, keeping them at arms length.
Then the rumour spreadMick and Mary were courting. Walking hand in hand in the evenings, inseparable. Mick, tall and broad-shouldered, no longer looked like a schoolboy. Clever, like Mary, they had much to talk about.
The lads admired himhe never drank with them, though some did in secret. Mary and Mick made a striking pair, so in love they couldnt bear a day apart.
“Two lovebirds,” the village women whispered. “A weddings coming, mark my words.”
But not everyone approved. Micks parents, Simon and Anne, were against it. Simon, the prosperous village chairman, owned the first car, a sturdy farm, even a motorbike Mick sometimes rode.
When Simon learned of his sons attachment to an orphan girl, he was furious.
“Listen, Anne,” he snapped. “Whats that Mary thinking, setting her sights on our Mick? Pretty, yes, but shes got nothing. Lives on her brothers charityNick barely scrapes by.”
“I dont know, Simon, but hes besotted. Out with her till all hours. No parents to keep her in checkthough the women say shes modest.”
“Ill have him wed to a girl from a good family. The chief agronomists daughter, over in Farleigh. Plain, perhaps, but their house is full, theyve a car. A match like that would suit us.”
“But how do we talk to Mick? He wont listenhes in love.”
“Leave it to me,” Simon said darkly.
He tried reasoning with Mick first.
“Son, step outside. We need to talk.”
Mick, eager to meet Mary, hesitated. “Cant it wait? Shell be cross if Im late.”
Simon scowled. “Forget her. Shes beneath youno family, no prospects. Ill find you a proper wife.”
“I want no one but Mary,” Mick said stubbornly.
“Defy me, and youll regret it.”
When words failed, Simon turned to cunning. He visited Lucy, Nicks wife, knowing Nick was at work.
“Lucy,” he called through the window.
Startled, she stepped outside. “What brings you here, Chairman?”
“I hear youve a relativeyour mothers elder sister, in Scotland?”
“Aye, Aunt Clara. Lives alone, quite old. Why?”
“Send Mary to her. Ill pay you handsomely.”
Lucy, though she disliked Mary, hesitated. “But Mick loves her. Why break them apart?”
“Shell be out of sight, out of mind. Ive a better match for him.”
Greed won. Nick, swayed by Lucy, bundled Mary onto a train with nothing but an address.
Heartbroken, Mick grew distant, barely speaking to his parents. Even Anne regretted their meddling.
When Mick left for military service, he wrote cold, formal letters. Nearing the end of his two-year posting in Scotland, he announced hed found a girl and would bring her home.
“Prepare for a wedding,” his letter read.
Simon crowed. “See? First love fades. Well throw a grand celebration!”
The village buzzed with gossip. When Micks taxi arrived, everyone gathered.
Out stepped Mick, broad-shouldered in uniform, thenMary. The crowd gasped.
“Meet my bride,” Mick declared.
The villagers cheered. “True love wins!”
Simon and Anne had no choice but to welcome her. The wedding was joyous.
They lived happilyMick and Mary in their own home, raising two sons. In time, Simon passed, then Anne. Mary nursed her mother-in-law tenderly, holding no grudges.
That night, after the funeral, Mary and Mick sat quietly in their grief.
Life moves on. And if fate wills it, no force can keep true lovers apart.
