Dear Diary,
A widowed neighbour once left a newborn on the doorstep of my cottage. A year later, a knock came at the front door and a cluster of curious village women stared at me, their eyes as sharp as a hawks.
Has your bloke turned up yet? one asked, her voice dripping with gossip. I lowered my gaze, unsure what to say.
No, and why should he? I replied, trying to sound steady. Were already split up.
Split up, or not James isnt exactly a prize either. Itll be a while before anyone picks up a treasure like that, they chattered on, but I didnt want to be drawn into their chatter. I hurriedly gathered my groceries and slipped out of the shop.
I knew the whispers would spread through the whole village. Here a divorce is almost unheard of; even if a husband drinks too much or raises his hand, people expect you to stay together. James was differenthe never drank, never shouted, and that made him a target of suspicion. Folks never quite understood him.
Every bloke trudges home after payday, but hes always sober as a judge, theyd say, using him as a cautionary example. Envy still lingered, and it fell on me as well. Rumours swirled that James had a lover on the side, yet those idle talks never broke the walls of our home. Our arguments were always behind closed doors.
When the break finally became obvious, it shocked everyone.
I withdrew into myself, sharing nothing with anyone. Though neighbours seemed ready to support me, I kept my distance. I walked home over the squeaking, snowcovered lane with an emptiness gnawing at my chest.
Six months had passed since James left, and thoughts of him still haunted me.
It had been I who first pushed for the divorce. James didnt agree at first; he only relented when life became unbearable. It all started when I noticed his forlorn stare at the children playing near the nursery.
James, we need to talk seriously, I said one evening.
Alright, whats on the menu for dinner? he joked, but I was determined.
I want a divorce, I declared, as if thunder had cracked the sky.
Why? he asked, bewildered.
In a proper family there should be children, and we have none. Likely we never will. I think its best we part ways. Youll find another woman and start a family, I explained, hoping hed understand.
James looked genuinely upset.
Did you ever ask if I needed a child if you werent there? Lets close that chapter and not return to it, he snapped.
No, James, well revisit this. Ive filed for divorce, I said firmly.
He missed every court hearing, and they granted us a divorce in absentia.
When I got home and unfolded the decree, James struggled to keep his emotions in check.
So thats it, he muttered, teeth grinding.
Yes, James. I want you to go, I replied.
Locked in my bedroom, I heard him packing. I thought about saying a final goodbye, but fear held me backI didnt want to stop him. When the door slammed shut, I rushed to the window and watched him walk away.
His departure felt like my soul was being ripped from my body. I could not picture life without him. Evenings found me leafing through old photographs, recalling the days when our house was full of friends. No one visited any more; I had shut the world out.
One afternoon, returning home, I saw a large basket on the porch. Not a typical country basket, but an elegant one, like something from a department storelarge enough to hold three potatoes. I looked around; nobody was in sight. Who had left it there?
I stepped closer and peered inside.
Whos playing this trick? I asked aloud, bewildered.
Suddenly something stirred inside the basket. I jumped back, then looked again.
Oh my God! I cried, scooping the basket and hurrying inside.
A tiny infant lay curled upso small I could barely tell. I had never cared for a baby before, but instinct took over. It was a girl. I swaddled her and covered her with a blanket.
When she fell asleep again, I sat beside her and whispered, What am I to do with you, little one?
I named her Lucy. She was sweet, with the tiniest fingers. I couldnt tell her exact age, but she could sit propped up on cushions and happily gulp down a spoonful of sweetened porridge.
The night was almost sleepless; I fretted over the baby sleeping peacefully on the bed. What a wondrous feeling it was to watch her breath rise and fall, her tiny nose crinkling with each sigh!
The next day I decided not to rush to the authorities. I took Lucy out for night walks so the neighbours wouldnt see her, took unpaid leave from my job, and ran errands while she slept. I knew eventually Id have to hand her over, but I kept postponing that moment.
Three weeks later the local constable knocked on my door. He entered, inspected the room, and faced me, eyes watery.
Well, Emma Clarke, shall we have a chat?
He drew up a report, then heard my trembling voice ask where the child would be taken.
I wont let her be taken away, Ill just pass on the information. Why are you crying? You dont want to lose her, do you? If a mother doesnt want her child, who else will care? he asked.
Ive heard that being single can block an adoption, I replied.
He could say otherwise. Well write good references, help you out. Nothing happens without effort, he noted.
I hadnt expected the bureaucracy to drain five months from my life, but the thought of Lucy staying with me legally kept me going.
I was granted a yearandahalf of maternity leave, the kind given to those who adopt from a care home.
Today Lucy turned one. I wasnt sure of her exact birth date; the doctor gave an approximate. I decided the day should be special. While she slept, I filled the room with colourful balloons, giving the space a festive feel.
Then I bought a huge doll. The shop assistant laughed, Why would you need such a big doll?
I answered, Let the doll watch over Lucys bed forever.
When the villagers learned Id taken in a child, their attitude shifted. Rumours swirled about who the real parents might be, many saying my cottage by the road was the perfect spot for someone to leave a baby. The constable backed the gossip, noting that if Lucy was now dear to me, she should stay.
I sometimes feared a knock would bring someone demanding the child back, but each morning Lucys smile filled my life with light.
Good morning, my little sunshine, I said, laughing.
Lucy beamed, and I hurried to dress her. Our house was warm, so she played on the carpet. I placed her beside the doll, and she examined it curiously, glancing at me now and then. I chuckled as she reached for the toy. I nudged the doll closer; Lucy stood on tiptoe, then froze, eyes wide. I held my breath, hoping shed try.
Sunbeam, give it a go! I encouraged.
Doctors assured me Lucy was healthy, but I still worried. She took a tentative step, then another, finally grasping the dolls rubber arms. Overjoyed, I lifted her into my arms and spun her round.
Our merriment was shattered by a sudden knock. I pressed Lucy close, heart pounding, as the door creaked open like something out of a horror film.
There stood James, thinner, his face weathered but his eyes still warm. He looked at Lucy, then took in the whole room.
Sorry I see youre well. Whats the girls name? he asked.
Lucy, I answered, noticing a flicker of confusion on his face. James, she isnt our daughter. I adopted her. Come in.
James hesitated at the doorway after my invitation.
Take off your shoes, James. Its Lucys birthday today. Lets have tea and cake; Ill tell you everything, I said, watching him shed his coat and boots.
I looked at his face with a hint of sadness.
Are you well? Do you even eat? I asked.
He glanced at himself, smiled weakly.
Appetites been gone. Thats how it turned out, he replied softly, and his smile warmed my heart. How Id missed him
Lucy reached for James, a clear gesturehold me. He nodded, smiling, and said, Give me a moment while you finish the tea.
I watched Lucy and James sit on the floor, playing with the doll. James jokingly asked, Wheres the dolls mouth? And the eyes?
Lucy pointed confidently, then burst into giggles. I wiped away tears of happiness.
They only managed to talk after Lucy fell asleep after lunch. I told James everything.
Why didnt you try to contact me? It must be hard for you alone, he asked.
No, its fine. Besides, I thought youd found someone and maybe were expecting a child, I replied.
He looked away, murmuring, I once found love. A shame she turned out so stubborn.
Night fell, and James began to pack.
Two more hours on the road, he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing he would soon be gone again.
Maybe its for the best, he added, but you cant imagine how hard it is for me. Without you I dont need any children. I try to leave you in the past, yet you keep appearing in my dreams. I came hoping to see you and forget, but it only made things worse.
I, fighting tears, whispered, I dont know what to do. I feel the same. Not a minute passes without thinking of you. What should we do, James?
He smiled suddenly. I know what to do.
I stared at him, surprised.
Its simple, he said. We split because we had no children. Now we have Lucy. We could be a family again.
Marry again? I asked.
He tossed his coat aside, grabbed the steering wheel from the vase, and stood before me.
Darling, will you marry me? I promise to care for you and Lucy, he said.
I sat beside him, looked into his eyes.
Yes a thousand times yes, I whispered.
He gently slipped a ring onto my finger and held me tightly.
This whole time without you felt like a dream. Now Im waking up, as if life is starting again.
A year later we welcomed a son, Michael. The hospital had initially turned us away, but after endless paperwork he found his home with us.
Now we have a princess and a prince. Hes small now, but hell grow to protect his sister, James said, smiling.
We stood together, arms around each other, looking at our children. Our eyes said it all: this was truly a happy family.
