It started with a server crash, and we spent half a day waiting for the IT team in Manchester to bring it back up. The order nearly fell through can you imagine the losses wed have faced?
I watched Eleanor Thompson for the third time catch herself halflistening to what Andrew Clarke was saying. We were in a little café on the corner of Fleet Street, right opposite her office. He was rambling about the latest project at the firm, while she kept picking at the napkin, her eyes drifting to his hands. Six months of dating and she still hadnt met his family.
She was thirty, the age when you stop dreaming about romance and start craving certainty. Andrew was a solid bloke diligent, considerate, dependable. A month earlier hed gotten down on one knee in the same café where they first met. Eleanor said yes, but a nervous knot settled deep inside her.
Whenever she tried to bring up his parents, Andrew would change the subject. Hed talk about the weather or claim something urgent had come up. She chalked it up to shyness perhaps he was embarrassed about his modest upbringing or just wasnt used to sharing personal details.
Andrew, when am I finally going to meet your parents? she asked, nudging her cooling coffee aside.
He tensed. The napkin in his fingers crumpled into a tight ball. He met her gaze, a flicker of unease crossing his eyes.
This weekend, well go, he said after a pause.
A rush of joy flooded Eleanors chest, washing away her doubts. She could already picture herself stepping into his familys cottage, his mother hugging her like a daughter, the three of them sipping tea and eating scones at a long wooden table.
The days leading up to the weekend were spent hunting for the perfect presents. She roamed three shopping centres in Birmingham, eventually buying a £180 silk shawl and a bottle of French perfume for Andrews mother, a highquality tool set for his father the sort any man would love and a stylish handbag for his sister, the one shed been eyeing herself for months.
On Saturday morning she rose at six, hurried through a shower, did her hair, and applied a light touch of makeup. She chose an elegant kneelength beige dress and classic heels the timeless look for a future daughterinlaw. She twirled in front of the mirror, satisfied. Thats exactly how she wanted to appear.
Andrew slipped into the car in silence. Eleanor turned the engine over, merged onto the M1, the radio humming something gentle. Roadside cafés and petrol stations drifted past as she smiled, picturing the upcoming meeting, while Andrew kept his face tight.
Why so glum? she asked, casting a quick glance his way. Nervous?
Just dont mind if something goes wrong, love, Andrew muttered, clenching his fists on his knees. Ignore it if it does.
She furrowed her brow and shifted gears.
What do you mean goes wrong? What could possibly go wrong?
Theyre particular, he muttered, turning his eyes to the window. Just keep that in mind.
She wanted to press further, but the GPS announced a left turn. The village they were heading for was tiny about a dozen houses lined along a single lane. The road wove between crooked fences and vegetable patches, finally stopping at an old timber house whose shutters were peeling.
She turned off the engine and stepped out. The garden was overgrown; grass poked up wherever it liked, a stack of firewood loomed in a corner, and rusted tools littered the shed. Still, she forced a smile. It wasnt the wealth that mattered, but the people.
On the porch three figures awaited: an elderly woman in a faded cardigan, a man in a stretchedout shirt, and a twentysomething daughter with a skeptical expression.
Ah, youre here, said Andrews mother, giving Eleanor a assessing look.
Eleanor stepped forward, extending her hand. Good afternoon. Im delighted to finally meet you.
The mother gave a weak shake, the father merely nodded, and the sister crossed her arms, eyes narrowed.
Eleanor turned back to the car to fetch the gift bags. As she lifted the boot lid, a loud hissing filled the air.
From behind the house burst a massive white goose, the size of a small dog, its neck long and twisted, eyes blazing with fury. It barreled straight at Eleanor, opening its beak, spreading its wings.
What the Eleanor leapt aside, dropping the perfume bottle.
The goose didnt halt. It swooped at her with a rage shed never expected from a domesticated bird. Its wings smacked her legs, its beak pecked at her calves. She staggered, tried to shut the car door, but the goose pursued, giving her no respite.
Andrew! she shouted, dodging another lunge.
Andrew took an uncertain step forward, then a boisterous laugh erupted from behind. His mother clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she could barely speak.
Not passed the test! she cried, tears of mirth streaming down. Look, look! Gosher has us all figured out!
His sister snorted, reveling in the spectacle. A proper woman wouldnt be scared of a goose, she jeered, but shes cowering in that dainty dress.
Andrews father pulled out his phone, filming everything, his face lit up as if it were the best entertainment of the week.
Andrew, do something! Eleanor pleaded, swatting at the bird as it continued to peck and flap at her hips.
Andrew moved again, hands flailing uncertainly. The goose paused for a heartbeat, then his mother shouted sharply:
Dont interfere! Let Gosher sort it out! He knows the bad people!
Andrew froze, glanced at his mother, then at Eleanor, and backed away obediently, heading toward the porch where his family stood.
Eleanor pressed her back against the car, the goose cornering her. Her dress was smeared, red bite marks dotted her calves, her heels slipped on the uneven grass. She stared at the smiling family mother, sister, father with his phone and a cold dread settled in her chest.
They were humiliating her on purpose. It wasnt a random mishap; it was a cruel trial set by Andrews family to put her in her place. Andrew stood by, doing nothing.
She bolted into the car. The goose hammered the windshield for a few more seconds, then lost interest and strutted away, proud as a rooster.
Andrew approached, knocked on the window. Eleanor lowered it a few centimetres.
Eleanor, calm down, love, he said hurriedly. Its just a family tradition. A little test for the bridetobe, to see her character. Mum always does it.
She met his eyes, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Inside, resentment, anger, and disappointment boiled.
There wont be a wedding, she whispered, clear and firm.
Andrew blinked, as if he hadnt heard. What? Eleanor, what are you saying? It was just a joke
No wedding, she repeated, sliding the ring off her finger and pushing it through the tiny gap in the window. Take it.
Youre mad! Andrew tried to open the door, but it was locked. Dont be foolish! Lets talk!
Theres nothing left to say.
She turned the key, the engine growled, the car shuddered. Andrew stood there, clutching the ring, bewildered. She put the car in reverse, backed away, and drove toward the exit. In the rearview mirror the laughing faces of his family lingered on the porch.
The first kilometres she drove on autopilot, barely noticing the countryside. Her hands trembled on the wheel, her heart thumped in her throat. Tears welled, but she brushed them away. Shed cry later, at home. For now she just needed to get away.
That evening her phone blew up with calls. Andrew kept calling, texting apologies, begging for another chance. She listened once, heard his hurried, guilty voice, and hung up.
A week later she blocked his number on every messenger, deleted photos of them together, tossed away mementos his Tshirt, the novel hed lent her, a coffee mug.
Life slipped back into its old rhythm: work, evenings with friends, the gym. She tried not to think about the goose, but at night she still saw its angry eyes and heard his familys cruel laughter.
A month later a friend mentioned shed heard that Andrew had married a village girl his mother liked straight away. No geese, no tests.
Eleanor listened, feeling only a light relief. That goose, that family, their mockery had shown her the truth before shed tied her life to theirs. She ran her finger over the spot where the ring had been, smiled, and thought how right it all turned out to be.
