Emily and her husband Daniel returned home from the funeral drained and somber. They had just buried Daniels mother, MargaretEmilys mother-in-law.
“Well, shes at peace now, laid to rest beside Father,” Daniel murmured. “Even while she was ill, it was all she spoke ofbegged for it.”
“I know,” Emily replied softly. “She knew we wouldnt bury her anywhere else, yet she couldnt stop thinking about it. At least her sufferings over. That illness cruel and relentless.”
The evening stretched on in quiet grief, each lost in their own thoughts. Emilys mind wandered back to her pastbefore marriage. There had been little joy in it. Shed lost both parents young, perishing in her grandmothers house after her grandfathers funeral. A fire had claimed them all in the night.
Shed been home with her older brother, Jack. By morning, the news had shattered them. Neighbors helped bury the dead. In an instant, they were orphansno parents, no grandmother. The villagers whispered:
“Old George took his wife, their children, and their parents with him.”
Jack was seventeen, nearly a man; Emily just thirteen. They stayed in the family home. Jack worked the farm; Emily studied. Fate had dealt them a harsh hand, and sometimes, even now, she could scarcely believe what shed endured.
Their village, Little Wrenford, was smalljust forty-two houses. The school went only to Year Four, so from Year Five, children walked three miles to the next village over. In winter, they cut across the frozen brook. Once, old Ned had ferried them by horse-cart on Mondays, and theyd board at the schoolhouse till Saturday.
But the older boysespecially those like Mike, the headmasters sonpreferred walking home.
“Meet by the bench after lessons,” Mike would say. “Well walk back together.”
Three miles wasnt far, not in a group. Alone, the woods were frightening, but with mates, it was an adventure. By then, the lads had eyes for the girlspassing notes, asking them to stroll in the evenings or dance at the village hall on weekends. Come Monday, everyone knew whod walked whom home.
Life in the village had been lively once. If you stepped out, youd drift toward the hall. Films were rare, so even adults gathered there.
Emily had attended that school. As she grew, the village couldnt look away. Lovely, gentle Emilyangelic. Boys her age noticed. Older lads, too. A single glance from her could unsettle a lad for days; her soft voice lingered in their ears.
She was kind, clever, beautifulflawless, almost. A rare thing. Her only flaw? She was an orphan. She lived with Jack and his wife, Sarah, who resented her. Emily tried to please her, but she knew she was unwelcome. Nowhere else to go.
“When I finish school,” she dreamed, “Ill leave for town. Train as a chef. Sarah wont rest till Im gone. And theyve their own family nowa son. Im in the way.”
She never complained to Jack. Didnt want to sow discord.
The lads respected her. None dared slight her. They hoped, one day, shed choose one of them. But Emily was reservedkept them at arms length.
Then, whispers spread: Mike and Emily were courting. Holding hands in the evenings. Walking home from school, fingers intertwined.
Mike was handsometall, broad-shouldered, more man than boy. Clever, like Emily. They had plenty to talk about. The lads admired him; he never drank with them, though some older boys sneaked ale on holidays.
Mike and Emily made a striking pair. Smitten, inseparable.
“Like two doves,” the village women murmured. “A weddings coming.”
But not everyone approved.
Mikes father, Simon, the village chairman, was vehemently against it. The family was well-offfirst in the village to own a car, a sturdy farm, even a motorbike Mike sometimes rode.
When Simon learned of his sons attachment to an orphan girl, he was furious.
“Listen, Margaret,” he told his wife. “Whats Emily thinking, setting her sights on our Mike? A girl with nothingliving off her brothers charity!”
“I dont know, Simon,” Margaret fretted. “Hes besotted. Out all hours with her. No parents to keep her in checkthough they say shes modest.”
“I want him wed to a girl from a family like ours. The agronomists daughterover in Farthing Hollow. Pretty enough, and their house is full. A good match.”
“But how do we tell Mike? He wont listenhes in love!”
“Leave it to me,” Simon said darkly.
He tried reasoning with Mike first.
“Mikeout here. Need to talk.”
Mike stepped onto the porch. “What is it, Dad? Im meeting Emilydont want her waiting.”
“Sit down. This is serious.”
“Cant it wait? I dont want to upset her.”
Simon scoffed. “Upset her? Listen. Rumors are flyingyou and this girl.”
“We love each other,” Mike said firmly. “Weve plans.”
“Forget her. Shes nothing. No family, no prospects. Ill find you a proper wife.”
“No one but Emily.”
“Defy me, and youll regret it.”
Simon realized threats wouldnt work. Mike was a man nowtoo old to bend.
So he schemed.
The next day, he called on SarahJacks wife.
“Sarahgot a minute?”
She stepped out, wary. The chairman never visited.
“Youve a cousin up north, dont you? Yorkshire?”
“Aunt Clara, yes. Why?”
“Send Emily to her. Get her out of here.”
Sarah understood. “You want them split up.”
“Out of sight, out of mind. Ill pay you. You could use the money.”
Sarah loved money.
Jack obeyed her. Soon, weeping, Emily was packed onto a trainletter and address clutched in her hand.
Mike was devastated. He shut himself away, barely spoke to his parents. Even Margaret regretted it.
Then came his conscription. He served in Yorkshirewrote stilted letters home. As his service neared its end, he sent word:
“Found a girl. Bringing her home.”
Simon crowed. “See? First love never lasts.”
The village buzzed. The chairmans son, bringing a bride!
When the taxi pulled up, a crowd gathered.
Out stepped Miketaller, broader in his uniform. Then his bride, in white.
A gasp.
Emily. Lovelier than ever.
“Meet my wife,” Mike announced.
The villagers cheered.
Simon and Margaret had no choice but to welcome her.
They forgave. Married. Lived wellraised two sons. Simon passed first, then Margaret. Emily cared for her tenderly.
Now, the house was quiet. The grief would fade. Life went on.
If two are meant to be, no force can keep them apart.
