How illtimed this anniversary of theirs is, she muttered, shaking her head. Theyve found a moment to celebrate, and of course its in a village. Fragments of a disgruntled mans words had drifted to Ethel. She realised that her husband Edwards cousin had invited them to a silver wedding the twentyfifth year of his brother Harolds marriage.
Edwards mobile rang shrill and insistent until he answered.
It was his second cousin, calling from the village.
Hello, Harold, hello! Edward said. Alls well here; how are things with you? Fine, then. And Saturday?
Ill let Ethel know! Of course well come, where else would we be?
Ethel stepped into the sittingroom.
How illtimed this anniversary is, she repeated. Theyve managed to schedule it in a remote hamlet.
She caught the tailend of the husbands irritated remarks and understood that Harold had asked them to attend his silver wedding.
Edward and Ethel, however, had already decided to part ways.
Lately theyd been at odds, a cold distance growing between them. Two days earlier theyd resolved to separate. Ethel had no desire to attend the silver wedding her mood was far from festive
Perhaps you could go alone, Edward, since youre his brotherinlaw. Id love to see Margaret, she said, referring to Harolds wife. Weve always been close, visiting each others homes
And how could they arrive at the village to announce their split?
The coach from the city to the village took four hours, and their aging car had sat idle in the garage for three months. In earlier years they had often driven to Harolds farm in Littlebrook, where Edward was born and raised.
Now the car was dead, and Ethel didnt know whether to pour money into repairs or buy a new one. The looming divorce had upended all their plans.
Edward thought to himself:
Ethel probably wont go; shell refuse. If I go alone then Ill have to tell Harold and Margaret were separating. That would cause a stir, and would they need such news on a day of celebration? It would be a sour note at a silver wedding.
Seeing his wife enter the room, Edward said:
Harold called, shall we set off? We wont speak of our affairs. Lets go, then deal with the separation.
Ethel nodded.
Right, its their feast, lets be on our way.
The coach halted, the driver announcing:
Everyone off, the coach wont go any further!
What do you mean it wont go? Edward protested. The village is still five miles away!
The roads terrible, the rain has just ceased, I cant risk the vehicle. No point in stranding anyone. Find a lift or walk, the driver replied firmly.
Edward and Ethel disembarked, a suitcase in his hand. A fivemile trek was not in their schedule.
What shall we do, wait for a lift or go on foot? he asked.
A lift might not appear until morning; well have to walk, Ethel replied.
Cursing the driver who held the worlds traffic in his grip, Edward led, Ethel following close on the roadside. The lane was indeed rough, with deep puddles, but the verge was passable.
Strange how Ethel stays silent, not even irritated, Edward mused. At home shed be cursing. Out here she gathers her frustration, and perhaps will unleash it midway.
Halfway along the path a stand of oak trees rose, the village almost within sight.
Edward waited for Ethel to snap, but she kept pace, mute.
Stopping, Edward set his bag down and asked:
Tired? a hint of guilt crept into his voice for having asked her on this journey.
A little, perhaps a rest on that fallen log, she pointed to a trunk on the ground.
They sat, looking around. The dusk was still young; birds sang, butterflies fluttered, trees rustled, crickets chirped.
Ethel recalled a trip, nearly twenty years past, to Edwards hometown where tables were already laid and guests awaited the newlyweds.
How everything has changed in twenty years, the wood has grown, the oaks are taller and grander, she said.
Indeed, time flies, everything transforms, Edward replied. Do you remember that day the car wheel almost fell off? You in a wedding dress on heels, me in a suit and polished shoes, trudging the verge while Harold changed the tyre. We didnt wait; we walked on. It wasnt long, but you did sprain your foot a bit.
I remember, my foot was the one, Ethel laughed. Good that Harold patched the car quickly; we were young! Today wed have waited for a lift.
After a brief rest they rose and continued, each lost in thought. Edward remembered school hikes with his mates, while Ethel, a city girl, had never camped out in the woods.
Ethel, weary, thought of her own worries:
When our son returns from service, well finally part. He wont like it, but what can we do? Its already decided
The lane opened onto the village spread in a valley.
How lovely! Summer here is splendidbright colours, warm sun, Ethel exclaimed.
Yes, its always beautiful, in summer, spring, autumn, even winter. Weve arrived at different times over the years. Shame the car broke down; wed be there by now, Edward answered.
They pushed open the gate, entered the courtyard and saw Harold already arranging tables. He rushed over, embraced them.
On foot, were you? he gasped. Wheres the car? Why didnt you call? Id have met you. The road truly is awful, but Id have taken a detour.
We didnt know the coach would stop, so we had to walk. At least weve breathed fresh air and seen the scenery, Edward replied.
Ethel! Margaret hugged her, beaming. How wonderful youre here; its been ages. Tomorrow we celebrate the silver wedding. Time has flown in a blink.
Harold and Edward chatted, then after changing, everyone sat down to dinner. They lingered in the courtyard, laughing and talking, then retired to their rooms. Edward and Ethel were given a modest chamber with a new settee.
Look, a brandnew sofa, Margaret pointed out the freshly upholstered couch. Goodnight.
Ethel slipped out of her nightdress and settled against the wall, leaving most of the sofa to Edward. They were no longer sleeping together; Edward lay at the foot of the settee.
Ethel, why are you hugging the wall? Theres room for both of us. Your legs must be sore after that walk, he said.
Not sore, just she replied.
Edward tugged the blanket from her feet and began to massage her soles.
All right, let it be, Edward. Itll pass by morning, she murmured.
Keep quiet, Ill work the tension out, he whispered.
The next day Edward and Ethel helped set the tables in the yard, greeting the arriving guests. Conversation started low, then grew louder as the music swelled, songs were sung, and dancing erupted. The village, where everyone knew each other, revelled.
Imagine, Edward, twentyfive years with Margaret, everything we had, and still more to cherish. We argue, were hurt, but we reconcile quickly; shes good to me! Surely everyone feels the same, Harold boomed, his voice carrying through the crowd. A quarter of a century! I love Margaret, Id give her the world, and no one else matters!
Harold, enough now, whispered his wife into his ear. Youre being a bit
Let the world hear how wonderful my wife is, the best there ever was! Harold shouted, and the guests clapped in unison.
Edward watched Ethel, both of them observing the happy couple. How could they speak of a divorce amidst such joy?
Ethel felt the air thick with happiness, enveloping the guests and their souls.
Edward saw his wife with new eyes, a sudden thought flashing through him:
My dear Ethel is no less than Margaret! Misunderstandings happenthats life. Why would we part now? No, I cannot lose her!
He instinctively embraced Ethel, who met his gaze with surprise. In his eyes she saw warmth, love, and something indefinable, which she recognised in herself. Together they sensed the happiness radiating from Harold and Margarets celebration.
Perhaps happiness has touched us too, Ethel thought, smiling, as Edward kissed her cheek.
The following day brought more grills, long conversations, and Edward never let Ethel stray far; whenever she moved, he searched for her with his eyes.
Later Harold gave them a lift back on the coach.
Back home, Edward, as if nothing had changed, asked:
Ethel, what shall we do with the car? Repair it, which will cost a fortune, or buy a new one? Sell this one and add the money? Im tired of the coach trips to Harolds.
You decide, if we need a new one, lets buy it. You know your engines better, she replied.
Then tomorrow morning well go to the motor market, have a look, maybe well find something, since well be traveling together again.
The talk of divorce faded, as if it had dissolved on its own. Their son eventually returned, married, and Edward and Ethel continued contentedly, their lives intertwined as they always had.
