**Diary Entry 12th March**
“You’re no longer my daughter. Who he is and where he’s fromno one knows. I’m ashamed of you. Move into Grannys cottage and live like an adult. Face the consequences of your actions.”
Lizzie burst in, flopping onto the sofa with a grin. “Olive, did you hear? Theyve brought over some workers from the city to help with the harvest. Fancy going to the pub tonight?”
“Lizzie, are you mad?” Olive laughed. “Wholl look after little Oliver? Take him along?”
“What if we ask Aunt Margaret?” Lizzie suggested carefully.
Olive waved a hand dismissively. “Dont be daft. She still hasnt forgiven me for having Oliver. She wanted me to marry Andrew, but I went off to university instead. Didnt get in, came back with a baby. Took her a year to even speak to me again. Go with someone elsemaybe youll get lucky.”
Lizzie sighed. “Alright, Ill go with Tanya. Tomorrow, Ill tell you everything.”
Olive tucked Oliver into bed and stepped onto the porch. The distant thump of music carried on the wind. Wrapped in her shawl, she imagined the laughter and dancing. Lizzie had probably worn that awful leopard-print dress againshe looked like a stuffed caterpillar in it. Olive sighed and turned in for the night.
At dawn, Lizzie came rushing injust as Olives mother arrived. Olive pressed a finger to her lips, but Lizzie was unstoppable.
“You missed out last night! There were some lovely lads. One walked me homeWilliam, his name was. Chatty, funny. Ive got a date with him today!”
Olives mother frowned. “Married, I suppose?”
Lizzie shrugged. “Didnt ask to see his ring. Even if he is, itll be something to remember.”
“Girls these days,” Mum muttered. “Andrews a decent lad. Olive missed her chance, but you, Lizzie, could still catch his eye.”
“Aunt Margaret, really! Whod want him? And his mothers worse. God save me from that kind of happiness!”
She turned to Olive. “There was this one blokecouldnt take your eyes off him. All the girls were smitten. But he just stood with his mates and left alone. Didnt even ask anyone to dance.”
Then, the unthinkable. Aunt Margaret said thoughtfully, “Olive, you ought to go to the pub too. Ill mind Oliver. Maybe youll meet someone propera steady, reliable man. Oliver needs a father. Just steer clear of married ones. They sniff out a single mother like hounds. Understood?”
Olive, hardly believing her luck, nodded and kissed her mothers cheek.
“Go on then, you butter-fingered flatterer,” Mum grumbled.
That evening, Olive stood in her best dress, laughing with friends. It felt so good to be carefree again.
“Look. There he is,” someone whispered.
Olive glanced overand her legs nearly gave way. She turned sharply. “I should go. Olivers probably crying.”
“Olive! First night out in ages, and youre running home? You havent even danced!”
But Olive was firm. “Im off. Your Williams comingyou wont be lonely.”
At the door, a hand caught hers. “Care for a dance?”
Olive kept her eyes down. “I dont dance.”
The man persisted. “Just one, please?”
She finally looked upand her heart lurched. *Him.* The one whod changed her life forever. And he didnt recognise her. Relieved, she smiled. “One dance. Then I must go.”
He spun her gently. “Your husband waiting, then?”
“Im not married,” she said stiffly.
He winkedthat same, familiar wink that stole her breath. “So Ive got a chance?”
Olive pulled away. “Not a hope,” she said, fleeing.
She cried all the way home. Shed remembered him forever, loved him instantlyand he hadnt known her.
Theyd met on a train. She was heartbroken after failing her exams, heading home. He was visiting family. Seeing her gloom, hed tried to cheer her up.
“Names Max. Mum calls me Maxie, my nephew says Moo. Take your pick.”
Olive smiled. “Moos funnier.”
He grinned. “Nearly friends, then. And you are, lovely creature?”
“Olive.”
“Knew it. A queens name.”
She told him about failing, her mothers wrath.
“Study over winter and try again,” he said.
Olive brightened. “Youre right! Thanks.”
He studied her. “Has anyone told you youre beautiful?”
“Dont be silly,” she blushed.
“I mean it,” he said, kissing her. What followed was dizzying, sweet, and fleeting. He left early. “Ill find you,” he promised.
Only later did she realisehed never asked where she lived.
Then she found out she was pregnant. Her mothers words still stung: *”Youre no longer my daughter…”*
Olive worked at the library until her due date. Lizzie met her at the hospitalMum never came. Only when Oliver was five months old did she finally appear. “Not our blood,” she declared. But she visited more often, bringing toys.
“Why so early?” Mum asked when Olive returned from the pub. “Nothing exciting there. Hows Oliver?”
Mum smiled. “Fast asleep. Since youre back, Ill head home.”
Olive barely slept. At dawn, she fed Oliver, who fussed over his porridge.
“If you dont eat, you wont grow big and strong like your dad,” she teased.
“Talking about me? Flattering. And this must be my son?”
Olive dropped the spoon. “You? How?”
Max smiled. “Told you Id find you. Didnt know Id be a father, though. I was so caught up that night, I forgot to ask where you lived. Guess fate had other plans.” He pulled a face at Oliver, who giggled.
At breakfast, Mum found Olive glowing, a stranger bouncing Oliver on his shoulders.
“This him?” she asked.
“Yes,” Olive beamed.
Mum offered her hand. “Margaret. And Ill be watching what kind of man and father you are.”
Max shook it firmly. “Understood.”
**Lesson learned:** Some paths twist, but lovetrue lovefinds its way back. Even when you least expect it.
