If Fate Decrees They Belong Together
Mary and her husband Michael returned home from the funeral wake, heavy with grief and exhaustion. They had just buried Michaels mother, AnnaMarys mother-in-law.
«Well, at least shes at peace now,» Michael murmured, his voice thick. «Laid to rest beside Father, just as she kept asking.»
«Yes,» Mary sighed. «Though she knew we wouldnt bury her anywhere else, it was all she could think about.» She shook her head. «At least shes free of that cruel, wicked illness.»
The evening passed in sombre silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Marys mind drifted to her pastespecially the years before her marriage. There had been little joy then. She had lost both parents young, perishing in her grandmothers house one dreadful night. A fire had broken out, trapping them inside.
Mary and her older brother, Nick, had been left at home that evening. By morning, they were orphans. The village rallied to help bury their family. The whispers followed:
«Old George took his wife with himand Mary and Nicks parents too.»
Nick, seventeen then, became her guardian. They lived together in their small cottage while he worked the farm and she attended school. Fate dealt Mary a harsh hand, so bitter at times she could scarcely believe it.
Their village was tinyjust forty-two houses. The school had only primary classes; from Year Six onward, children trekked three miles to the neighbouring village. In winter, they cut across the frozen river to save time. Years before, old Ned had ferried the children by horse-drawn cart on Mondays, bringing them back Saturdays after a week at the boarding school.
Not all the older children stayed, though. Spring and autumn, they preferred the walk homesafer in a group, especially through the shadowed woods. The lads, led by Mickthe farm managers sonwould gather after lessons.
«Whos walking home today? Meet by the bench when class ends.»
Three miles wasnt far, not when they were laughing, flirting, scribbling notes to girls. Weekends meant dances at the village halleveryone went. Films were rare, so even adults turned up for the company.
Mary studied at that school too. As she grew, the village couldnt help but notice herdelicate, angel-faced, with a voice like honey. Boys of all ages watched her, smitten if she so much as glanced their way.
She was flawlessbright, kind, beautiful. Her only flaw, in some eyes, was being an orphan. She lived with Nick, his wife Sarah, and their baby son. Sarah resented her, no matter how hard Mary tried to please.
«Ill leave after school,» Mary vowed. «Train as a cook in town. Sarah will never accept me.» She swallowed her hurt, refusing to burden Nick. This was his family now.
The boys respected her. None dared speak crudelythey all hoped, one day, she might choose one of them. But Mary kept her distance, until whispers spread: Mick and Mary were courting.
Hand in hand after school, stolen walks at duskthey were inseparable. Mick, broad-shouldered and steady, matched her in wit and warmth. The village sighed over them.
«Two lovebirds,» the old women murmured. «A weddings coming, mark my words.»
Not everyone approved. Micks father, Samuelwealthy, influentialwould never let his son marry a penniless orphan.
«Listen, Anne,» Samuel told his wife. «Our boys lost his head over Mary. Pretty, yes, but whats she got? Nothing. Her brother scrapes by as it is.»
Anne fretted. «Hes besotted. What if well, shes unchaperoned. No parents to rein her in.»
«Ill find him a better matcha farmers daughter, someone with standing.»
Samuel confronted Mick one evening.
«Son, sit. We need to talk.»
«Cant it wait? Marys expecting me.»
Samuels lip curled. «Ah, mustnt upset your precious Mary.» His voice turned hard. «Forget her. Shes beneath you.»
Mick stood his ground. «Im marrying her.»
«Defy me, and Ill make sure you regret it.»
Samuels next move was cunning. He sought out Sarah, Nicks wife.
«Your aunt Claralives up north, doesnt she? Send Mary there.»
Sarahs eyes gleamed at the bribe he offered.
Nick, swayed by his wife, bundled Mary onto a train with nothing but an address.
Mick was devastated. He barely spoke to his parents before leaving for military servicestationed, by cruel twist, near the same northern town.
Two years later, a telegram arrived: Mick was coming homewith a bride.
The village buzzed. At the station, Mick stepped off the train in uniform, helping a veiled woman in white descend.
The gasp was collective.
Mary.
«Meet my wife,» Mick announced, grinning.
Samuel and Anne stood frozen as cheers erupted.
Love had outmanoeuvred them all.
The years were kind. Mick and Mary raised two sons in their own cottage. Samuel passed first; Anne followed, grief-stricken. Mary nursed her tenderly, holding no grudges.
Now, the house was quiet. The funeral was over, the wake done.
Grief would fade. Life went onas it always did for those fate bound together.
