Rain drummed against the windowpane, fat droplets sliding down like tears as Evelyn sat motionless, lost in the melancholy strains of Vera Lynns *”Well Meet Again.”* The lyrics*”But sunshine always follows the rain”*cut deep, though she barely noticed the wetness on her own cheeks. She could never listen to it without the weight of memory pressing down.
Bitterness, thick and undeserved, had scorched through her heart. When helplessness grips you, even a song becomes a lifeline.
Evelyn lived in a quiet market town in Yorkshire, the sort where everyone knew each others business. Shed arrived years ago from a Devon village to study nursing and never left.
*”Dont come back after your training, love,”* her mother had said. *”Not because we dont want youbut theres nothing for you here. Young folk belong where life has prospects. Youll meet a nice local lad, settle down.”*
*”I know, Mum,”* Evelyn had replied. *”It hurts to leave, but its time.”*
So she stayedbecame a nurse at the local hospital. Pretty, with thick chestnut hair and bright blue eyes, she drew glances. One morning, while tending to a ward, she noticed a new patienta young man with a cast, watching her with open curiosity.
*”Morning,”* she greeted the room, but to James, it felt meant for him alone.
Hed been admitted overnighta factory supervisor, fresh from university, sent to manage the towns sole industrial plant. A slip on the factory floor, an awkward flail, and now a broken arm.
She adjusted his IV, silent but aware of his gaze.
*”All done,”* she said briskly.
*”Will you be back?”* he blurted. *”Your name?”*
*”Evelyn. And yesIve a job to do.”*
*Evelyn.* He grinned to himself. Maybe the injury wasnt so bad.
She liked him, though shed never show it first. But his lingering looks spoke plainly enough.
*”Handsome lads like him dont stay single,”* she thought, watching for visitors. Only mates and coworkers cameno girlfriends. A relief.
James, meanwhile, was already dreaming of walks by the River Ouse once discharged. He lingered in corridors to chat, and soon they were stealing evenings together in hushed hospital halls.
*”Im not from here,”* he confessed. *”Got a flat from the factoryneeds work, but its mine.”*
*”Lucky,”* she sighed. *”Im stuck in a nurses hostel. Thin walls, rowdy nights.”*
Discharged, he still found excuses to see her at the clinic. Two years passed before he proposedno fanfare, just a quiet, *”Weve been at this awhile. Lets marry.”*
*”Yes,”* she said instantly, laughingtoo eager, but past caring.
The wedding was modest: her mother came up from Devon; his sisters, from Lancashire. Friends envied her. *”Youve landed a proper catchclever, handsome, doting.”*
They made a home in his flat, scrubbed and painted it together, then welcomed two daughters.
*”Id like a son,”* James murmured once. But two was enough for Evelynchildren to raise, a life to build.
They holidayed in Cornwall, visited her mother in Devonsummer picnics, mushroom foraging, winter sledging. For years, nothing hinted at ruin.
Then the factory began calling him in on weekends. *”Im quitting,”* he snapped one night. *”I need proper rest.”*
His boss relentedJames was too skilled to lose. But the new job brought travel.
*”Business trips, Evelyn. Better pay, though.”*
*”Well manage,”* she said.
Years slid by. The trips grew longerthree days, then a week. Worse, he returned with whisky on his breath, excuses sharp on his tongue.
Fifteen years in, Evelyn confronted him. *”Whats happened to you? You used to scorn men like this.”*
*”Were dull,”* he sneered. *”Im livening things up.”*
Then the whispers started.
*”Evelyn,”* a colleague murmured, *”your James isnt faithful. My friend Ritas been with himsaunas, business trips that stop at her place first.”*
*”God,”* Evelyn choked. *”I thought it was just the lads at the pub.”*
More rumours followed. Their fights turned venomous.
*”Enough of your nagging!”* he shouted once, and thenthe final strawhe struck her.
*”I want a divorce,”* she said, hollow-eyed.
The day he left, *”Well Meet Again”* played on the radio. He packed calmly. *”Im going. The flats yoursyouve the girls to think of.”* The door clicked shut.
She thought shed cried dry, but the tears returned in floods.
*”Divorce,”* she resolved. *”Neither wife nor widowwhat am I now?”*
Townsfolk tutted. *”Shame,”* they said, though some feigned sympathy while relishing the drama.
Time numbed the sting. The girls grewthe eldest married, moved to Manchester.
*”Ill never leave you, Mum,”* the younger vowed.
*”Lifes unpredictable,”* Evelyn said gently. *”You might meet someone.”*
She did.
*”Mum, you were right!”* the girl laughed. *”Paul proposed. Were marrying!”*
Evelyn smiled. *”Im happy for you.”*
A pause. *”But… were moving to London. Paul says theres more opportunity.”*
Evelyn forced brightness. *”Go. Just visit often.”*
At the wedding, Jameslong estranged from the elder daughterspoke quietly to Paul. *”Listen, lad. Stay true to one family. However hard it gets, endure it. Learn from my mistakes.”*
Evelyn overheard. *”So,”* she mused, *”his new life wasnt all roses.”*
Years later, the grief had dulled. Some had pitied her; others pretended to, hiding smirks. She weathered it.
Now retired, she sometimes crossed paths with Jamesstill in the same town. What once felt like tragedy became mere drama, then indifference. Even, sometimes, a wry smile.
But *”Well Meet Again”*? That still brought tears. Sentimentality, thats all.
