It was a different life, I recall, that lay before Eleanor when she turned twenty. She was at university, loved Thomas, and already spoke of marriage, for they had begun to plan it.
Thomas was a few years older; he had finished his National Service before he first saw her at the schools Autumn Prom, when she was in her final year. Though they lived in the same town and attended the same school, he had left years earlier.
Whos that handsome fellow? Eleanor thought as Thomas entered the hall, scanning for familiar faces. Their eyes met, he smiled, and she fell for him instantly. He was unlike any other young man she had known.
Hello, Im Thomas, he said, approaching her, her cheeks flushing. May I have this dance? He took her by the waist and they spun across the floor.
Eleanor she whispered, feeling as if she were floating, each of Thomass movements guiding her.
You dance beautifully, Eleanor, he grinned.
He stayed beside her all evening, promising to see her off afterward. They walked together long after the music stopped, reluctant to part, though Eleanor knew she must return home where her mother awaited.
Thomas never let her be bored. After school she entered university in the same town where Thomas worked. He knew nothing of gloom; his sunny disposition lifted everyone around him. He had many friends, and Eleanor often joined their gatherings, even weddings.
Even in midwinter Thomas would bring her roses, turning every meeting into a celebration. They would linger in cafés, escape to the countryside, or simply enjoy each others company.
When Eleanor was in her third year, Thomas surprised her.
During the New Year break well go to the ski resort; Ive already bought two tickets. The instructors are superb, youll learn fast, he said.
Marvellous, Thomas! Youre the best, she squealed, throwing her arms round his neck. Then, remembering her own fear, she added, Im a bit of a coward on the slopes, you know, and laughed.
The trip was unforgettable. Eleanor quickly learned to glide down the pistes and loved it, though she dreaded the end of that fairytale weekend. When March8th arrived, Thomas came to their home bearing two bouquets.
Happy Womens Day, he said, handing one to Eleanors mother, Margaret, and the other to Eleanor herself. For you, my dear, he whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek. She beamed at the fresh roses.
Thomas, why such extravagance? Margaret asked. Its costly.
Its nothing, Thomas replied. My mates Simon and Victor are heading out for work; Ill go with them. Theres a contract for highvoltage line workgood pay. Ill save for a wedding and a car.
Eleanor protested, Dont leave me, Thomas, I cant bear it.
Ill be back in three or four months. Well keep in touch. I want a beautiful wedding, and you do too, dont you?
I do, though a modest ceremony would be fine. What matters is that we stay together, she replied wistfully.
Thomas was set on his plan, so Eleanor could not persuade him to stay. He departed with his friends, the pay indeed generous, and they spoke often on the phone.
One afternoon, in a lecture, Eleanor felt a sudden unease that soon passed. The night before, she had spoken with Thomas, so she did not expect a call that evening. Her heart thumped anxiously; she dialed him repeatedly, but only silence answered.
Frustrated, she called Victor. Wheres Thomas? she asked.
Victors voice was flat. Hes not hes not here
The line clicked, and Eleanors world shattered. Mother! she screamed, tears spilling.
Later she learned Thomas had been electrocuted on a faulty pole. Margaret, his mother, had turned a pale shade of grief, speaking little as she awaited the return of Thomass father and younger brother, Richard. The funeral, the wake, an endless gloom followed.
Eleanor lingered in a daze, visiting Margaret often, sitting in silence, or driving together to the cemetery. Margaret clung to her, urging Eleanor to stay, especially during the summer holidays. They visited churches, shared tea.
One day Margaret suggested, Shall we go to the seaside for a week?
Eleanor agreed, though she felt no reason to leave the shadow of Thomas behind. Yet the promise of a change lured her.
They arrived at the coast, sunbathing by day and resting in the hotel room by afternoon. Margaret seemed a little steadier; Eleanor, unable to sleep, watched the sea from the balcony. The horizon blended with the sky, a tiny steamer barely visible. Seagulls shrieked, cars rumbled, children laughed, couples chatted. Life bustled around her, yet she felt alone.
A voice beside her said, Such beauty, yet such sorrow.
She turned to see a young man, his smile familiar. She wanted to retort sharply but held back. He reminded her of Thomas in a way she could not name.
The beautiful often go without happiness, she replied sadly.
I disagree, he answered. Believe me, Im Glyn.
Glyn? Im Eleanor.
They exchanged a few words before she turned and walked away. Glyn watched her go. He had observed her melancholy for days, pitying that she rarely found solitude, always accompanied by Margaret.
Glyn resolved to learn where Eleanor came from; she had captured his interest, though a veil of sadness lay over her. He kept watching from the promenade.
Two days remained before their departure. Margaret slept after a beach stroll. Eleanor entered a shop, and at the exit she bumped into Glyn, who caught a sack of groceries from her hands.
Ill help, if you dont mind, he said, instantly switching to a familiar you.
Help if you wish, she replied.
Eleanor, may I talk? I have serious questions, he urged, gesturing toward a nearby summer café. Sit with me.
Im leaving in three days, he said. When will you stay?
We depart tomorrow night; tickets are in hand, she answered.
Ah, I felt it, Glyn murmured. Where do you live? He asked, surprised.
The same town youre from, she replied, astonished.
Did I hear right? I live there too, he chuckled. Great, well not lose each other.
Glyn had finished university, worked in a design office for the council, and, still single, had broken off with his girlfriend before retreating to the coast to recover. Meeting Eleanor, he fell for her at first sight.
She confided her grief and Margarets clinginess, which puzzled him.
Usually a mother lets go after her sons death; its rare for her to keep the daughter of the deceased so close, he said.
I dont know, Glyn. I just dont want to hurt her, Eleanor answered.
They swapped numbers, arranging to meet back in town. Soon Margaret, searching for Eleanor, asked, Where were you?
In the shop, then for a walk, Eleanor replied, weary of Margarets presence. She felt the weight of staying near the family of the man she loved, knowing he would never return. Her own mother urged her to free herself, but Eleanors kindness kept her from abandoning Margaret completely.
She realized the situation could not endure. That evening, as they packed, Eleanor told Margaret, Ill be returning home soon, starting a new life.
Margaret looked oddly at her and said, A new life, you say? Yes, the world is yours now. I imagined you might be with a child, after all those years with Thomas. I even hoped youd be pregnant I have a son, perhaps you could be with him
Eleanor, shocked, snapped, No, I need no one, especially not Thomass brother. Margaret wept, her first tears since the funeral, and felt a strange relief.
From that moment Eleanor decided her future would have no place for Margarets hold. The thought of home echoed in her mind: Home, home, she whispered, grateful that Glyn had opened her eyes.
The new academic year began. Eleanor and Glyn grew closer, and one day she walked alone to Thomass grave.
Goodbye, Thomas, she whispered faintly. I was so happy with you. Thank you for the joys you gave me. You left too soon, but I must live on. I am different now, and I will have a new life a life without you. Farewell.
She stepped out of the cemetery, met Glyn waiting by his car. Indeed, a new life awaited her; Glyn breathed fresh purpose into her days. She seldom saw Margaret thereafter, their paths crossing only by chance. In time she married Glyn, and they awaited the birth of their child, a testament that even after great loss, a different life could begin.
