When Fate Plays a Cruel Hand
After finishing teacher training college, Marian returned to her home village to teach at the very school she had once attended. She adored her fellow teachers, cherished the familiar streets, and had always missed her parents and the old family house.
Since childhood, Marian had been close friends with her neighbour, Juliethough the two were as different as night and day. Marian was calm and thoughtful, whereas Julie was reckless, sharp-tongued, and never showed respect to her elders. They had shared a classroom, and Julie was forever being compared unfavourably to her well-mannered friend.
“I dont need Marians exampleIve got my own mind,” Julie would snap.
“A minds no use without sense in it,” the headmaster, Mr. Edward Whitmore, once remarked in Year Eleven after she was yet again dragged to his office.
“Whats it this time?” he sighed.
Mrs. Eleanor Hart, their form tutora respected, veteran teachernearly wept as she explained, “Julie told me I smell like a grave and ought to retire instead of trying to teach anyone.”
Mr. Whitmore was speechless. He scolded Julie, but she batted her eyelashes and feigned innocence. “I never said that! Shes making it up.” With a dismissive wave, he sent her away. What else could be done?
After school, Marian went on to teacher training college while Julie enrolled in nursing schoolnot out of passion, but because her grades left her no choice. She had always scraped by, copying Marians work.
Julie was undeniably beautifultall, with dark flowing hair and a flawless figurebut her bedside manner was appalling. She worked in the general ward, sneering at elderly patients. “These old wrecks should be six feet under already, not wasting medicine,” shed scoff, leaving her colleagues stunned.
“Whyd you even become a nurse if you hate it?” theyd ask.
“None of your business. It was the best I could get.”
Complaints piled up, but it wasnt until the ward sister overheard Julie reducing an old woman to tears that she was fired. “Youre dismissed, Julie. Youre no healeryoure a torment. And Ill make sure no hospital in this county hires you again.”
Back in town, Julie hunted for a wealthy husband, but luck eluded her. Brief flings fizzled out the moment men saw her true colours. She never felt guilther upbringing had spared her that. After three years, she slunk back to the village, having drifted from nursing to supermarket work, which she detested just as much.
“Hello, Marian, darlinghow are you?” Julie chirped over the phone. “Guess what? Im coming home. Your mum works at the clinic, doesnt she? Put in a word for me, wont you? See you soon!”
The moment she arrived, Julie barged into Marians cottage.
“Come on, tell me everything! Hows teaching those brats and our old bat of a headmaster?”
Marian ignored the jab and quietly poured tea, setting out biscuits and jam. “School can wait. Whyve you come back? I thought you hated the village.”
“Oh, I fancied a change. What about you? Not thinking of marrying some local bore, are you?”
“I am, actually,” Marian replied evenly. “Arthur proposed. Were getting married in two months.”
Julie smirked. “Oh? Whos the lucky man? The geography teacher? Or one of the farmhands? Not exactly a catch around here.”
“Arthurs a farmera successful one. He owns livestock, machinery, employs half the village.”
Julie burst out laughing. “Thats a first! Bet theres something wrong with him.” She eyed Marians fuller figure with disdainthough it only made her friend softer, more radiant.
Just then, a deep voice cut in. “Good evening, Marian. Whos your guest?”
Julie spun aroundand nearly choked. In the doorway stood a tall, handsome man in an expensive tracksuit and trainers. Envy burned through her. *This* was Marians fiancé?
“You must be Arthur,” she purred, switching to her sweetest tone. “Im Julie. Marians told me *so* much about you.”
“Dont let her flatter me too much,” Arthur chuckled, his eyes warm as he gazed at Marian.
They chatted late into the evening, but Julies mind was already racing. *He should be mine. I deserve him.* By the time she left, shed resolved to steal himwhatever it took.
“Mum, have you *seen* Marians fiancé?” Julie demanded at home. “Why didnt you tell me we had someone like *him* here? He belongs with me, not that plain little mouse!”
Her mother, ever indulgent, nodded. “Youre right, love. Youre far prettier. But well need to act fastthe weddings soon.”
Opportunity struck when Julie ran into an old classmate, Tamsin, at the clinic.
“Julie! Youre back! Come to my birthday do on SaturdayMarian and Arthur are coming too.”
Julies eyes gleamed. “Wouldnt miss it.”
That morning, Marian felt unwell but insisted Arthur go without her. When he arrived alone at the pub, Julie pounced, steering him to her table, plying him with drink after drinksurreptitiously spiking each one. By closing time, Arthur was swaying.
“My place is closer,” Julie lied, bundling him into a friends car.
Shed sent her mother away for the night. Once home, she dragged Arthur inside.
He woke at dawn, head pounding, to find Julie smirking beside him. Horror dawned. “Thisthis didnt happen.”
“Oh, but it did,” she trilled.
He fled, showered, and raced to Mariansonly for her mother to block the door.
“How *could* you? Marians gone. And after you sent her those photos!”
Baffled, Arthur checked his phoneand there they were: Julie had snapped them in bed. His stomach lurched. *Just like my ex betrayed me.* In a rage, he hurled the phone against the wall.
Lost without Marian, he avoided Julieuntil she cornered him.
“You can hate me, but our babys innocent.”
“*What* baby?”
“That night wasnt wasted,” she simpered.
Arthurs jaw clenched. A child deserved a fatherhed grown up without one. They married quietly, though Julie whined for a lavish wedding. He shut her down. “Take it or leave it.”
Their marriage was joyless. Arthur was civil but cold. Meanwhile, Julie frettedshe wasnt pregnant. Desperate, she called Tamsin, a nurse.
“Help me fake a miscarriage. I *hate* kidsbut Arthur mustnt know.”
She never noticed Arthur behind her. His voice was ice. “Were done.”
Later, Tamsin, guilt-ridden, sought him out. “Arthur Marian had a son.”
His heart stopped. “*Mine?*”
“Of course yours! Her mums hiding her at her grans.”
Arthur drove straight there. Through the cottage gate, he spotted Marian hanging laundryand a pram. His breath caught. A blue-eyed boy stared up at him.
“His name?” he whispered.
“Thomas,” Marian murmured.
Arthur knelt, tears in his eyes. “Forgive me. Ill never fail you again.”
And she did forgive him. In time, they welcomed two more childrenand at last, found the happiness fate had tried to steal.
