**Diary Entry**
*27th June 2023*
“Aunt Rose, wheres Mikey?”
“What do you want him for?”
“We were supposed to go berry picking this morning.”
“Hes gone, loveoff with the lads.”
“Gone?” The girls lips trembled. “But he promised!”
“Listen, Sophie, why dyou cling to that boy, eh? Youll be chasing after men soon enough, and here you are trailing after a child. Go onspend time with the girls. Leave Mikey be, theres a good lass.”
Rose couldnt stand Sophiethat wide-mouthed, gangly thing, all legs like a heron in the marsh. Just the sight of her twisted Roses stomach. *God, shes just a girl, but so wretchedly unpleasant.*
Tears welled in Sophies round eyes.
*Ugh, what a nuisance.* Rose shrugged and stalked into the garden. *Persistent little thing. Wont give the lad a moments peace.*
Just then, her son, Mikey, darted from the shed.
“Where to?”
“The woods.”
“Did you muck out the pigs?”
“Done it, Mum.”
“Straw laid fresh?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“And the chickens”
“Mum! Ive been at it since dawn! Its the holidays, and we planned thisthats why I got up early. The lads are waiting!”
“Which lads?”
“Mum, honestlyjust the usual lot. Tommy, Billy, Stevie, Pete, and Jack.”
“No one else?”
“No, Mum. Ive got to go.”
“And that wide-mouthed oneSophie. A girl tagging along with boys?”
“Mum, enough! Whats Sophie ever done? Shes my friend.”
“Friend?” Rose grabbed his shoulder, hissing in his ear, “Dont mix with her, son. Shell twist you up, mark my words. Just listen to me.”
“Mum, what are you on about?” Mikey wrenched free, leapt onto his bike, and pedalled off without a glance.
“Sophie! Sophie!” His voice rang out.
Rose sat down and wept. *Whats she want with him? A few more years and hell be courtingthen hell drag that wide-mouthed thing home, saying, Im marrying her, Mum and Dadlove her like you love me. No. Never.*
She wiped her tears, squared her shoulders, and marched to the gate. Hesitating only a moment, she set off down the lane.
Near the fence, children played in a heap of yellow sand. Rose called to a tousle-haired boy.
“Andy, is your mother home?”
“Aye.” He barely looked up, digging intently.
“Fetch her.”
“Mum!” he bellowed.
*Couldnt even run insidejust shouts. Wide-mouthed, the lot of them.*
“Coming!” a voice called.
Out stepped Annie, Andys motherfreckled, loud-mouthed, and just as lanky as her daughter.
“Annie, over here.”
“Alright, Rose? Whats happened? The kids all right?” She wiped floury hands on her apron, eyes wide.
“Nothings happened. But it might if your Sophie doesnt stop trailing after my boy.”
“What?”
“Shes always after himwont leave him be.”
“Have you lost the plot? Theyre just kids! I remember you trailing after my brother, Johnnyyour own mother chased you off with a switch! Or dont you recall sneaking off to smoke behind the shed? Or those dirty postcards? Or kissing by the river? Dont play innocent!”
“Ive said my piece. Rein your girl in, or shell end up in trouble.”
“Trouble? Like you did? Or was Johnnys ladPaulreally yours?”
“Dont be daft. My kids are my husbands. Yours, thoughwho knows?”
Annie laughed. “My man chose meloves me proper. Yours? Stuck with you out of fear. Johnny left you, and no one else wanted a nag like you.”
Rose knew Annie had a sharp tongue. Most women avoided crossing her, but Rose wasnt one to back down.
Meanwhile, the children, berry buckets full, dashed to the brook. Stripping off clothes, they splashed, shrieking and laughing, indistinguishableboys, girls, just children. There was no ugliness in them yet, no shame. They sprawled on the sand, bare bottoms skyward, dreaming and chatting.
“Whatll you be when you grow up, Pete?”
“Like my dada mechanic.”
“And you, Sophie? A singer?”
“Why a singer?”
“Well, all girls want to be famous. Five minutes, five minutes!” Jack mimicked.
Sophie snorted. “You do it. Ill be a pilot or a scientist.”
“Girls cant do that.”
“They can,” Stevie said firmly.
Rose fought to pull Mikey away from Sophie, relieved when he left for the army. She avoided Sophie whenever she saw her.
Once, Sophie arrived in tears. “Aunt Rose, has Mikey written?”
“Yesterday, love. Gail brought a letter.”
“Not to me.” Her lips quivered.
“Well, maybe he doesnt want to write to you.”
“But he always did! Has he… met someone else?”
“What do you want me to do?”
Sophie trudged off, shoulders hunched.
Rose muttered after her, “Found a new girl, he has.”
The wedding was merrypals dancing, groom beaming. Jack, Mikeys best mate, couldnt believe his luck when Sophie proposedon one condition: theyd move to the city after. Jack wouldve agreed to anything. Shed never noticed him before, always trailing after Mikey. When Mikey left for the army, shed wept for days. Jack, unfit for service, stayed behind, always there.
Rose rejoiced*finally* free of her.
Mikey wrote home, asking why Sophie never replied. Rose said she saw her dailyfine, healthy. *Who knows why she doesnt write?* But Rose knew.
The postwoman, Gail, owed Roseso shed agreed to intercept their letters. A mother knew best.
Mikey returned from service to find Sophie gone.
Married. Moved away.
Rose had a better girl in mindNadias daughter, Lucy. Good family. Father managed a factorycould set Mikey up.
“But I dont love her, Mum.”
“Love? Pah. Look what love got her.”
The wedding was grim. The groom stood stiff as a statue.
*Itll pass,* Rose thought. *Hell have a fine househer fatherll see to that. Time smooths all.*
Years rolled by.
They say time heals. It doesntit numbs, piles on chores till the past fades.
A decade slipped away. Mikey visited with his family; Sophie and Jack did the same. They met by chance, exchanged pleasantries, but couldnt part.
“Off for a smokesee Stevie,” Mikey said that evening.
“Not a chance.” Rose blocked the door.
Lucy stepped in. “Go with him, love.”
“Hes seeing a *friend*why should I?”
“*Her.* That wide-eyed creature. Watch yourself, Mikey.”
He left. His feet carried him to the brook. Next night, too. On the third, as he turned to leave, a silhouette appeared.
Shed come.
No accusations, no explanations. Just holding each other under the old cherry tree, the moon hiding behind cloudsas if sparing them its glare.
Twenty more years passed.
They never crossed the line. Not once.
Call it not love if you will. But it wasand is. Just responsibility weighed heavier.
Now, Mikey stands by his wifes grave. Three years a widower. Hes visited his parents. His mother confessed everythinghow she tore him from Sophie. He forgave her. The ache dulled, but lingered.
“Mikey?”
He turns. Sophie stands therestill slender, a scarf at her throat. She sits beside him on the bench. They talk of nothing and everything.
“Lifes gone by, Mikey.”
“Gone *past* us, Sophie.”
“Does it matter we werent together? Maybe it wasnt meant. Dont blame Jackhe pulled me from despair. And then… I loved him.”
“Out of gratitude?” Mikey smirks.
“No. For his kindness. His patience. All those years… I loved only you, but time changes things. Do me a favourdont hold it against him.”
She leaves before he can answer.
That evening, Jack calls, voice thick.
“Sophies gone.”
Mikey rushes over. They sit side by side, two old friends.
“Gone quick, in the end. Didnt want anyone to know. Your wife?”
“Three years now.”
“Hard, that.”
“Lifes flown, hasnt it? Feels like yesterday we were kids splashing in the brook.”
“Same here, mate.”
Maybe his mother sensed something back then. No point dwelling on it now.
*Lifes not a field to cross*
*Its peaks and falls,*
*And burdens carried like stones,*
*That weight the path with loss.*
Goodbye, my dears. Sending warmth your way. Always yours.
