This anniversary is so illtimed, Charlotte says, shaking her head. They find a moment to celebrate and they pick a village for it.
She catches fragments of a disgruntled voice on the phone. It dawns on her that her brotherinlaw has invited them to a 25year silver wedding celebration.
Ians phone rings loudly, insistent, until he finally picks up.
Its his cousin, Tom, calling from the countryside.
Hey, Ian, hey! Tom says. Everything all right on your end? Good, good. How about Saturday?
Fine, Ill tell Charlotte. Well be therewhere else would we go?
Charlotte steps into the sitting room.
This anniversary is so illtimed, she repeats. They find a moment to celebrate and they pick a village for it.
She hears bits of a dissatisfied mans remarks.
She realises that Toms brother is inviting them to a silver weddingtwentyfive years of marriage.
Meanwhile Ian and Charlotte have been contemplating a split. Lately theyve grown apart, arguments pile up and a distance settles between them. Two days ago they finally decide to separate. Charlotte dreads attending the silver wedding; she isnt in the mood at all.
Maybe youll go alone, Ian, since youre his brother, she suggests, thinking of Toms wife, Emily. Weve always been close, visited each others homes but how do we turn up at their celebration and announce were divorcing?
The bus from the city to the village takes four hours, and their old car has been sitting in the garage for three months. They used to drive that car to Toms place in the Yorkshire village where Ian was born and raised.
Now the car is dead, and Charlotte isnt sure whether to pour money into repairs or buy a new one. Their planned divorce has upended everything.
Ian thinks to himself:
Charlotte probably wont go; shell likely refuse. If I go alone Ill have to tell Tom and Emily were parting. Theyll be shocked, asking questions. Do they really need that news on their wedding day? Its a celebration, not a funeral.
Seeing his wife enter the room, Ian says:
Tom called, shall we head over? We wont bring up our situation. Lets just get there and deal with the split later.
Charlotte nods.
Alright, since its their day, lets go.
The bus pulls into a stop and the driver shouts:
Everyone off, the bus wont go any further!
How can it not go? Ian protests. The village is still five miles away!
The roads terrible, the rain just stopped, I cant drive any further. Id get stuck, and who would pull me out? Find a lift or go on foot, the driver replies firmly.
Ian and Charlotte step off, Ian clutching his bag. Walking five miles was never in their plans.
What now, wait for a lift or walk? Ian asks his wife.
We could wait till morning, but well have to walk, Charlotte answers.
Cursing the driver, Ian leads, with Charlotte following along the verge. The lane is indeed rough, with deep puddles, but they manage on the shoulder.
Its odd how quiet Charlotte is, not even angry, Ian thinks. At home shed be shouting. Here she just swallows it, maybe shell burst later perhaps midway shell say everything.
Halfway through, a stand of oak trees appears, and the village is within sight.
Ian expects Charlotte to start arguing, but she stays silent, keeping pace.
They stop, Ian drops his bag and asks:
Tired?
Just a bit, Charlotte replies, pointing to a fallen log. Lets rest on that.
They sit, looking around. Its still early evening; birds sing, butterflies flutter, trees rustle, crickets chirp.
Charlotte remembers a trip almost twenty years ago, when they first drove to Ians village for a wedding feast.
How much has changed in twenty years, she says. The woods have grown, the oaks are towering.
Time flies, Ian says. Remember when the cars wheel almost fell off that day? You were in your wedding dress, I in my suit, we walked the shoulder while Tom changed the tyre. We left early, you ended up with a sore foot.
Ah, I recall the blister, Charlotte laughs. Thank heavens Tom fixed the car quickly. Wed never have walked today if he hadnt.
After a short rest, they continue on, each lost in thought. Ian recalls school hikes with his mates, something Charlotte never didshe was a city girl, never camping overnight.
Charlotte, weary, thinks aloud:
When the son returns from service, well be divorced. He wont like it, but what can we do? Its already decided.
The lane gives way to the village spread in a valley.
Look at this place! Summers beautifulbright colours, warm sun, Charlotte exclaims.
Its lovely all year round, Ian replies. Too bad the car broke down; wed be there by now.
They push open the gate, step onto the lawn and see Tom already arranging tables. He rushes over, embraces them.
You walked all this way? Tom gasps. Wheres the car? Why didnt you call? I could have met you. The roads awful, but Id have taken the back road.
We didnt know the bus wouldnt go on, so we had to trek. At least we got fresh air and the scenery.
Charlotte! Emily, Toms wife, hugs her, beaming. Its wonderful youre here; its been ages. Tomorrow we celebrate the silver wedding. Time has flown.
Tom and Ian chat, then everyone changes into dinner clothes and sits down to eat. After a long evening of laughter and conversation, they retire to the guest rooms. Ian and Charlotte are shown a small room with a brandnew sofa.
Look, we just bought it, Emily says, gesturing to the sleek couch. Good night.
Charlotte strips down and curls up against the wall, leaving most of the sofa for Ian. He looks at the couch, slides over to the edge.
Charlotte, why are you hugging the wall? Theres enough space for both of us. Your legs must be sore after the walk.
Its not the legs, she replies.
Ian pulls the blanket from her feet and starts massaging her feet.
Leave me be, Ian, she says. Itll pass by morning.
Just shut up, Ill work on them now, he mutters, rubbing.
The next day, Ian and Charlotte help set the tables in the courtyard, greeting guests. Conversation starts quiet, then grows louder as music begins, songs are sung, and dancing erupts. The village vibe is communal, everyone knows each other and celebrates together.
Can you imagine, Ian? Twentyfive years with Emily, everythings been good, though we argue now and then, but we always make up. Shes kind to me, Tom says to his brother. A quarter of a century, can you believe it? I love Emily and no one else matters.
Tom, enough, his wife whispers in his ear.
What can I say? My wife is the best in the world! Tom boasts, and the guests clap along.
Ian watches Charlotte, both observing the happy couple. How can they announce their split at a moment like this?
Charlotte feels the air thick with joy, wrapping everyone in warmth.
Ian looks at her with new eyes and thinks:
My Charlotte is no less than Emily. Misunderstandings happen; thats life. Why were we even thinking of divorce? No, I dont want to lose her.
He pulls Charlotte into a gentle hug; she meets his gaze, surprised. She sees love, tenderness, and something elseunderstanding. She realises she feels the same.
Perhaps they both sense the happiness at Tom and Emilys celebration.
Happiness must have touched us, Charlotte sighs, smiling, and Ian kisses her cheek.
The following day brings a barbecue, more chats, and Ian never lets Charlotte out of his sight; if she drifts, his eyes track her.
Later Tom drives them back on a bus.
Back home, Ian, as if nothing happened, asks:
Charlotte, what shall we do with the car? Repair it costs a lotmaybe we should buy a new one and sell this? I dont want to keep taking the bus to Toms.
You decide. If we need a new one, lets get it. You know your cars better, Charlotte replies.
Then tomorrow morning well hit the motor market, have a look, maybe well still drive together.
The talk of divorce fades, as if it dissolved on its own. Their son has returned, married, and Ian and Charlotte remain as happy as ever.
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