Shed packed a suitcase in a rush, hands shaking, tears already welling up. After twenty years of marriage Steve announced he was leaving her for a younger, livelier woman. Hed said she wasnt like him at all he was tired, always juggling work, the kids and the house.
The kids werent around much any more. Their son was studying in Manchester and only came home now and then, and their daughter had married and moved to Bristol with her husband. The flat theyd shared in London suddenly felt empty and foreign.
Anna Clarke threw everything into a suitcase without even thinking about what she was actually taking. What did it matter? All she wanted was to run, to hide from the pain and the humiliation.
The phone rang just as she was zipping up the bag. She saw Sophies name on the screen and let out a sigh. She didnt feel like talking to anyone.
Hello, she answered reluctantly.
Anna, love! I just heard How are you? Sophies voice sounded worried.
Fine, Anna replied flatly. Packing.
Where are you off to?
I dont know, Anna admitted honestly. I just cant stay here any longer.
You still have that little cottage up in the country, the one your grandma left you, right? Why not go there?
Anna froze. She did have a cottage in the countryside, a tiny place left by her mothers side of the family. Theyd visited when the kids were little but had stopped after a while. Steve always complained that the country was boring and that hed rather spend his holidays by the sea.
Sophie, youre a genius! Anna exclaimed. Thats exactly where Ill go!
Is it still habitable? Does it have heating?
Theres a wood stove and electricity. Thats all I need.
An hour later Anna was on a commuter train heading toward Willowbrook, a small village about fifty miles north of London. It felt like stepping into another world.
The village greeted her with quiet lanes and the sweet scent of lilacs. The cottage sat on the edge of the lane, surrounded by ancient apple trees. She struggled to push open the squeaky gate and stepped into the overgrown yard.
Everything looked neglected. Grass was kneehigh, the porch sagged, one window was cracked. Anna let out a heavy sigh. What am I going to do here? How will I live? Im a city girl used to comforts, she thought.
A hoarse voice called out, Whos there? A small, hunchbacked old lady appeared from behind the house, leaning on a walking stick.
Hello, Anna stammered, Im Margarets granddaughter. This is her house.
The Margaret house? the old woman squinted, studying Anna. And youre Anna, I take it?
Yes, Anna said, surprised. And you are?
Im Mabel, your neighbour. My mum and Margaret were close. What brings you here?
Im staying, Anna said, surprising herself with the firmness in her voice.
Staying? You cant live here its falling apart. It needs a lot of work. And youre a city folk, Im guessing?
Ill manage, Anna replied stubbornly and headed for the door.
She found the key in her bag, turned it, and stepped inside. The air was musty, dust covering everything. Old furniture lay under a blanket of grime, a wood stove in the corner, a table, two beds, and yellowed photographs on the walls. One picture showed a young, beautiful Margaret smiling.
Anna sank onto the bed and let the tears flow, finally giving herself permission to mourn. She sobbed for a long while, letting out all the hurt and anger.
When the tears dried, a strange calm settled over her. In that old house she felt shielded from the world no one would see her cry, no one would judge.
The next morning she woke to birdsong and bright sunshine spilling through the window. She rinsed her face with cold water from a bucket and stepped outside.
Morning, love, called Mabels hoarse voice from the fence, clutching a bundle of bread and a jug of milk.
Morning, Anna replied.
I thought youd be hungry. Brought you some milk, bread and a few potatoes. The shops a mile away.
Thank you, thats very kind, Anna said, touched.
Manners, dear. Neighbours look after each other. So, you really plan to live here?
Yes, Anna nodded. But I have no idea where to start.
Well start by cleaning, Mabel said pragmatically, pulling out a rag and a broom. Ive got supplies.
They cleaned the whole day, scrubbing, dusting, airing out the rooms. By evening Anna was exhausted but felt a satisfying sense of accomplishment.
Tomorrow well check the stove, Mabel said as she left. May can be a fickle month, you know.
Anna nodded. She was beginning to understand that country life meant constant work, but oddly that thought didnt frighten her it soothed her.
In the following days they repaired the stove, fitted new glass in the cracked window, steadied the porch. Anna learned to cook on the wood stove, fetch water from the well, and heat the old bathhouse. Her hands got calloused, her back ached, but her body adjusted to the labour.
One evening Mabel arrived with a visitor.
Meet Heather, she works at the village library, Mabel introduced. She wanted to say hello to the new resident.
Nice to meet you, Anna smiled.
Heather shook Annas hand. We dont get many newcomers, especially ones who plan to stay.
Im not sure how long yet, Anna admitted.
What did you do back in the city? Heather asked.
I was an accountant, Anna replied.
What qualifications do you have?
Economics, Anna said with a shrug. Why?
Were short of teachers at the primary school. No one to teach maths. Maybe you could give it a go, even just temporarily?
The idea surprised Anna, but it sparked interest.
Ill think about it, she said.
A week later Anna stood in front of a small class of fifteen village children. The school ran a mixedage programme, so she was teaching all ages at once.
Good morning, class, she began, voice a little shaky. Im Anna Clarke, and Ill be your maths teacher.
The kids looked wary at first, but soon they were asking curious questions. By the end of the lesson Anna felt a burst of energy she hadnt known she missed.
Soon her days were filled with teaching, tending the garden she decided to revive, and chatting with new friends. Her phone hardly rang. Her son sent occasional messages, her daughter called now and then, but Anna answered simply, Im well, and it was true.
London felt far away now. She sometimes thought of her flat, her old job, Steve, but those memories no longer hurt; they were just a chapter shed left behind.
One evening John Peters, a sturdy farmer with a kindly face and a full beard, knocked on her door.
Anna Clarke, may I come in? he asked, shifting from foot to foot.
Of course, John, come in. Would you like some tea? she offered.
Would love a cup, he said, settling at the table.
They sipped tea with honey and talked. John described his farm, his plans, and after a while he said, Anna, I could use a hand with the accounts. The farms growing and Im terrible with paperwork. Could you help?
It was an unexpected but tempting offer she missed using her professional skills.
Ill think about it, Anna replied.
Take your time, but not too long. The seasons kicking off, John warned.
A few days later Anna accepted. Her mornings were spent in the classroom, afternoons with John on the farm, evenings in her garden.
John soon offered to help with the overgrown plot.
Youve got a lot to do on your own, he said. Ive got a tractor and a few hands. Let me give you a lift.
The next day he arrived with his tractor, turned the soil in a flash, and they planted potatoes, onions and carrots together, laughing and joking.
Your fence is falling apart, he noted, looking over the yard. Well need a new one.
I dont have the money for a new fence, Anna sighed.
Well share material, John smiled. Just feed me a few of your homemade pies and Im happy.
They built the fence with the whole village lending a hand Mabel with her son, Heather with her husband, and a handful of other neighbours. After a long day they held an impromptu celebration in Annas yard.
Heres to the new home! John raised a mug of homemade cider.
To fresh starts! Heather chimed.
Anna watched the simple, openhearted people around her and felt shed finally found her place. In that village, among the fields and friendly faces, she discovered the life shed been missing in the city.
One autumn morning her exhusband Steve pulled up in his sleek car at the gate.
Anna, he called, can I get a look?
She straightened, dabbed her hands on her apron and nodded. Steve stepped into the yard, his eyes wide with surprise.
You live here? he asked.
Yes, Anna replied simply.
But you have a flat in London. All the comforts
I like it here, she shrugged.
Steve studied her. She was tanned, slimmer, moved with confidence, and her eyes held a new spark.
You lookdifferent, he said.
I am different, she smiled. Care for some tea?
They sat on the porch, sipping tea with a spoonful of her own blackcurrant jam. Steve talked about his new life, but Anna listened politely, feeling none of the old sting.
Ive come to ask you to come back, he finally said. I was wrong. That other woman it was a phase. I love you, Anna.
Anna looked at him, surprised that those words once would have made her heart race. Now they only brought a calm.
Steve, she said gently, thank you for saying that, but I wont be returning. My home is here.
But this is just a village! he exclaimed. Theres no theatre, no restaurants, no shops!
True, but theres real life, Anna replied evenly. And there are real people.
What about our marriage after twenty years? he asked.
It ended when you left, Anna said without blame. If you hadnt gone, I never would have found myself.
Steve stared, puzzled by the confident woman before him.
Are you happy here? he finally asked.
Yes, she answered, simply. I am happy.
When he drove away, John appeared with a bucket of apples from his orchard.
Anna, fresh apples for you! he called, waving.
Thanks, John. Could you help me pull the carrots? Its a bit heavy alone.
Anything for you, he replied, smiling.
Later, as they worked side by side, John asked, Who was that in the city car?
My exhusband, Anna said.
What did he want?
Just to pull me back to the city.
John paused, holding a carrot, then shrugged. And Im glad you said no.
That evening, as John was about to leave, he turned to Anna.
Theres a village fete this Saturday music, dancing. Would you like to go with me?
Annas smile widened. Id love that, John.
On Saturday she put on her prettiest simple dress. John arrived, all tidy, with a bunch of wildflowers.
You look lovely, he said, handing her the flowers.
The concert was warm and downtoearth folk songs, a few poems, lots of laughter. When the dancing started, John asked her for a waltz. He wasnt the smoothest dancer, but his arms were strong and kind.
Anna, he whispered as they moved, Im a simple man, no city polish, but Im completely taken with you.
She looked into his earnest eyes and felt the same.
I feel the same, John, she replied softly.
They danced until the night grew late, then John walked her to the gate and gently took her hand.
May I come again tomorrow? he asked.
Come anytime, Anna said, her heart full.
Winter settled over the village, the cottage buried under snow. Every morning John cleared the lanes, and they often spent evenings by the fire, sipping tea and dreaming of the future.
Heather once teased, You two make a great pair. Whens the wedding?
Anna blushed, Were just friends.
Heather smiled, Friends who look at each other like that, you know.
In spring John got down on one knee in the garden.
Will you marry me, Anna? I love you.
Yes, John. I love you too, she answered, tears of joy shining.
The whole village turned up for the wedding. Annas son and daughter arrived, initially shocked, but seeing their mothers happiness they gave their blessing.
Glad youre happy, Mum, her daughter said, hugging her.
Anna finally felt shed found her true place a tiny English village, simple folk, and a love that felt real and steady. Every morning she woke with a smile, looking forward to teaching, farming, and evenings by the hearth with John. The hectic city life seemed a distant memory now, and she knew that happiness was simply being where you belong, doing what you love, surrounded by people who truly care.
