If Fate Wills Us to Be Together
Mary and her husband Michael returned from the funeral quiet and weary. They had buried Michaels mother, Anna, Marys mother-in-law.
Well, shes at peace now, laid beside Fatherjust as she kept asking when she was ill, Michael murmured.
Yes. Though she knew we wouldnt bury her anywhere else, it was all she thought about, Mary replied. At least the sufferings over. That illness was cruel, slow and bitter.
The evening passed in silence, each lost in thought. Marys mind wandered back to her past, before marriage. There had been little joy in it. She had lost both parents youngthey had died in her grandmothers house, staying the night after Grandads funeral. The old cottage caught fire before dawn, and no one escaped.
Mary had been left at home with her older brother, Nick. When morning came, they learned the awful truth. Neighbours helped with the burials. In an instant, the children were alone. Some whispered,
Grandad John took his wife and Marys parents with him.
Nick was nearly grown at seventeen, Mary just thirteen. They lived together in the cottage after that. Nick worked on the farm; Mary kept at her studies. Fate shapes each life differentlyand hers had been harsh. Even now, she could scarcely believe all that had happened.
Their village was smalljust forty-two houses. The school only had primary classes; from Year Five onwards, pupils walked three miles to the next village. In winter, they could cross the frozen river and cut the distance. Old Ned used to take the children by horse-drawn cart on Mondays, and fetch them back on Saturdays. The rest of the week, they stayed in the boarding house.
But not everyone fancied staying, especially the older lads. They had a pact among themselves, led by Mick, the chairmans son.
Anyone heading home today, meet by the bench after lessons. Well walk back together.
Three miles wasnt so far, not in a group. Alone, the woods were frightening, but in a pack, they laughed it off. The boys were starting to notice girlspassing notes, asking them to meet after dark, gathering for dances in the village hall at weekends.
Come Monday, everyone knew whod walked whom home, who fancied whom. Villages were lively like thatonce someone stepped out, others followed. Films were rare, so even adults would come along.
Mary had attended that school too. As she grew, the village couldnt take its eyes off her. A beauty as soft as an angel, she drew glances not just from boys her age, but older lads too. If she so much as looked at one, hed lose sleep for nights. And if she spokewell, the sweetness of her voice lingered in the ears like a song.
Mary was perfect in every waylovely, clever, kind. Such things are rare, but they happen. Her only flaw, if you could call it that, was being an orphan. She lived with Nick, now wed to a local girl, with a baby son.
His wife, Sarah, had no love for her sister-in-law. No matter how hard Mary triedhelping with chores, keeping quietshe knew she was in the way. But where else could she go?
Once I finish school, Ill leave for town, Mary dreamed. Train to be a cook. I need to get away. Sarah wont rest till Im gone. And its only fairtheyve their own family now, their own child. Im just underfoot.
She never complained to Nick. It wasnt her place to stir trouble between man and wife.
The boys respected her. None dared speak a harsh word. They all hoped, one day, she might pick one of them. But Mary was shy, strictshe kept them at arms length.
Then, suddenly, rumours spreadMick, the chairmans son, was courting Mary. They walked hand-in-hand in the evenings. Even on the way home from school, fingers entwined. Mick was handsome himselftall, broad-shouldered, barely looking like a schoolboy anymore. He did well in class, just like Mary. They never ran out of things to say.
The lads admired himhe never drank with them, though some older boys sneaked whisky on holidays. Mick and Mary made a fine pair. So in love they couldnt bear a day apart, always seen together.
A match made in heaven, the old women whispered when they passed. A weddings coming, mark my words
But not everyone approved. Micks parents despised the match. Simon, the farm chairman, was the richest man in the villagefirst to own a car, a sturdy house, livestock in the yard, even a motorbike Mick rode sometimes.
When Simon learned of his sons love for the penniless orphan, he swore to end it.
Listen, Annie, he told his wife. Whats Mary thinking, snaring our Mick? Pretty face, but nothing elseliving off her brothers scraps. And Nicks barely making ends meet.
Simon, I dont knowour boys lost his head. Out with her till all hours. No parents to keep her in linethough the women say shes modest.
Ill wed him to a girl from our own kindwell-off. Theres the head agronomists daughter over in Farthing. Plain, perhaps, but their house is grand, theyve a car. Good stock. Well join the familiesought to.
But how? Mick wont listenhes smitten.
Leave it to me, Simon said. Ill handle it. No son of mine weds a beggar.
He tried reasoning first.
Mickcome out. We need to talk.
What about? Marys waitingdont want her cross.
Oh, heaven forbid we upset Mary, Simon sneered. Village tongues wagthey say youre love-struck.
We are. Weve plansa future.
Forget her. Ill find you a proper wife, not some pauper. Shes nothingher brothers nothing. Youll obey me, or Ill make you.
I want no one but Mary.
Defy me, and youll regret it.
Simon saw thenhis son was grown, too strong to thrash. This needed cunning.
Next day, he rode past Nicks cottage. Knowing Nick was out, he knocked.
Sarahcome out.
She peered through the grimy pane. The chairman at her doorwhat now?
Got a cousin up north, havent you? Your auntlives alone?
Aunt Clara, yes. Eldest of six, my mums youngest. Why?
Send Mary packingup to Claras.
Sarah blinked. Nick wont
Fifty pounds if you manage it.
Sarah loved money. Who didnt?
Nick obeyed his wife. It was easy.
Best send Mary to Claras. Better prospects thereits a town, not this backwater.
Nick sighed. Aye. Well send her.
They put her on the train by force, a scribbled address in her hand.
Mick was shattered. He withdrew, stopped speaking to his father. Even Annie regretted it.
When conscription came, the village saw him off. His letters home were coldunforgiving. He served up north, near a small town.
Two years passed. As his discharge neared, he wrote:
Found a girl. Bringing her home. Prepare the wedding.
Simon crowed. See? First love fades. Well feastour only son!
Word spread. When the taxi pulled up at the farmhouse, half the village gawked.
Mick stepped out in uniform, then helped a girl in white from the car.
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
It was Marylovelier than ever, dressed like a city girl.
Simon and Annie froze.
Meet my wife, Mick announced, grinning. No arguments.
The villagers roared, clapped.
Thats our Mick! True love wins!
The parents had no choice but to welcome them, feast, forgive. The wedding was merry.
They lived wella cottage of their own, two sons. Simon and Annie doted on Mary, who bore no grudge.
If fate wills two souls together, no force can part them.
Years passed. Simon died first. Annie followed, heartbroken. Mary nursed her like a daughter.
Now, the house is quiet. Mary and Michael sit, mourning fresh.
Time will soften the grief. Life goes on.
