Life Always Has Its Own Plans
“Rebecca, Ive got news for youOlivers back from the army tomorrow, so well be getting married soon. Youll have to come to the wedding!” Emily chattered excitedly.
“How do you even know that? Last I checked, you two were just friends when he left. And how do you know hes coming back tomorrow?”
“Mum ran into Aunt Margaret. Anyway, well see about the just friends bit. Thats what he thoughtwhat everyone thought. But Ive fancied him for ages. Im not letting him slip away now,” Emily beamed.
“Well, good for you, but I doubt youll snag Oliver. Hes always been a bit of a lone wolf. And after the army? Hell have grown up, got some senseunlike in school when he was just a cheeky lad,” Rebecca teased, though Emily looked slightly wounded.
Emily had always fancied Oliver from the year abovemischievous, quick-witted, but undeniably handsome. By Year 11, hed shot up, taller than all the lads, yet oddly indifferent to the girls. He joked with everyone, hung out with his mates in the evenings, but never singled anyone outno secret walks home after the cinema.
Emily made sure she was always nearby. If she heard he was going to the pictures, shed dash to the village hall too. Hed chat, laugh, even sling an arm round her shouldersbut nothing more. The girls all secretly adored him, whispering among themselves:
“Olivers a bit odd, isnt he? All the other lads walk girls home, but he just marches off alone every night.”
When he left for the army, some of the girls quietly waited, hoping hed finally notice one of them when he returned. After all, hed have to settle down someday, wouldnt he?
Meanwhile, Charlotte worked at the local school, transferred from the countryside four years ago after uni. She lived with her mum, Margarether dad had passed young. Margaret was glad her daughter was back in town, though she sometimes mused,
“Im happy Charlottes with me, but still one day shell marry, wont she?”
One morning, Charlotte waved her mum off to the busMargaret was heading to her sisters cottage for the summer. Charlotte then walked to school. Even though term had ended, teachers still had work to do.
Her love life hadnt changed much since uni. Shed been burned once by Daniel, a fellow student whod promised to take her back to his city. Hed even proposeduntil the last minute, when hed said,
“Changed my mind, Charlie. Parents want me home alone. So goodbye.”
Heartbroken, shed taken the teaching job in the village. Now twenty-eight, she hadnt fallen in love since.
Sitting in the headteachers office discussing summer plans, the deputy popped her head in:
“Charlotte, theres a young man asking for you.”
“How intriguing! Who could this mystery admirer be?” the head teased. Charlotte just shrugged.
“Honestly, no idea. Ill go see.”
At the end of the corridor stood a man in uniform, gazing out the window. When he turned, smiling, she thought,
“Blimey, a paratrooper. Proper fit, too. Who on earth?”
They met halfway.
“Hello, Miss Whitmore.”
“Hello were you waiting for me?”
“Course. Who else?”
“Sorry, but do we know each other?”
“Oh, we do. Very well, in fact,” he grinned, dimples flashing.
“Oliver?” she gasped, pressing her hands to her lips.
“The one and only. Changed much?”
“Goodness, thats an understatement,” she laughed, hugging him. She patted his back, then stepped away, arms folded.
“Let me look at you. Proper grown man now, shoulders like a barn door. If Id passed you in town, Id never have recognised you.”
“Dont flatter me, Miss Whitmore,” he chuckled, handing her flowers. “Im just your average bloke. But Id have spotted youwouldve called out, no question.”
“Howd you even find me here?”
“Knew where you worked before I enlisted,” he said proudly. “Came straight from the station, fresh out of service.”
“Where are you staying? Youve got to get back to the village. Ohyou must be starving! Right, let me grab my bag. Youre coming to mine.”
As Charlotte reheated lunch, Oliver washed up, stripping off his uniform in the heat, down to a vest. Padding into the kitchen, he asked,
“Need a hand, Miss Whitmore?”
“No, Oliver, sit down.”
She turned to the stove, heart racing, stealing glances at his toned arms. Nothing remained of that lanky Year 11 boythis was a man. She stood there, spoon pressed to her lips.
“What on earths got into me?”
Meanwhile, Oliver barely held back from hugging herthe woman hed loved since school. His mate Simon had written that she was single (his aunt was the schools deputy).
“Eat up, Oliver,” Charlotte said. “Well have tea after.”
They reminisced about her teaching days in the village. Shed noticed his glances back then but brushed them offsixth-formers always fancied young teachers.
“Wonder how the village is now. Whos taken my old post? Id love to visit everyone,” Charlotte mused.
“Another young teacher, Grace. My older brother married her. Theyve a son now.” Oliver paused, then blurted,
“Charlotte” (first time without Miss) “I came back for you. Marry me. Ive loved you since school.”
“Marry you?”
“Aye. Ive grown up, but I still love you.”
“But Oliver, sweetheart, Im eight years older.”
“Forget that,” he said calmly, taking her hands. “Fourteen and twenty-two mattered then. Now? Im a man. Ill provide, protectdo it all properly.”
Pulling her onto his lap (she was too stunned to resist), he added,
“Well be happy. Build a house in the villagebig, so the kids have space.”
Charlotte could only nod.
“I havent even said yes, and youre on about kids?”
“Saw it in your eyes. Burned right through me. Nearly set me alight.”
“Youre ridiculous,” she finally laughed.
“That I am.”
He stayed that evening. Next morning, they drove to Margarets cottage to introduce himand break the news: she was moving back to the village with Oliver.
There, Oliver grabbed a spade, dug up a patch: “Plant away!” Then fixed the wobbly gate with a hammer.
The women bustled about.
“Handy, isnt he?” Margaret murmured.
At lunch, they announced their engagement. Margaret and her sister were shocked but delightedthough Margaret looked wistful.
“Dont worry, Mrs. Whitmore,” Oliver said. “Well build a house in the village and bring you along. Lovely placeyoull adore it. Mums lovely too. Charlotte knows.”
After lunch, they caught the train to the village. Oliver rang his mum:
“Be there by six. And Im not alone.”
“Whos he bringing?” Margaret wondered. “A girl?”
“Dunno, Mum,” said his brother, James. “Stop guessing.”
“Right you are,” James wife, Grace, agreed. “Lets set the table.”
Margaret kept peering out the window but missed them until they were at the gateher grown-up son and his former teacher.
“Mum! Olivers here!” James bolted out, hugging his brothernow taller and broader.
“Blimey, armys done you good! Proper grip, too” He spotted Charlotte. “Miss Whitmore!”
Margaret rushed out, squeezing Oliver.
“Hello, Charlotte! Fancy you coming! Everyone remembers you fondly. Howd you two meet?”
“Mum, enough questions!” Oliver laughed. “Inside, yeah?”
At the table, James poured wine. Oliver stood.
“Right, youre all wondering why were together. Charlottes agreed to marry me.” He drank aloneeveryone gaped.
Charlotte clasped her hands; Oliver covered them. Silence. Then Margaret burst out laughing.
“Im thrilled, Oliver! Charlotte! Over the moon!” She glanced at Grace (pregnant again) and cackled. “Charlotte taught here before you, Grace. Now youll be on leave, shell coverthen shell be on leave, youll cover! Like musical chairs!”
The table erupted in laughter. Just then, Emily and Rebecca walked in.
“Hello! Heard Oliver was back”
“Come in!” James said. Oliver kept an arm round Charlotte. “Weve newstheyre getting married!”
The girls exchanged looks but sat briefly before slipping away.
