Life carried on at its usual rhythm: raising a son, building a home, standing by the man she loved. Emily had chosen Michael herselfout of all the lads in the village, he was the only one whod truly captured her heart. When Mike returned from his service, they married, and soon after, their son Oliver was born. As the boy grew, Emily began dreaming of a daughter.
«Once we finish the house, Michael, well have a little girl,» shed often say. «A proper family homethats the dream.»
Michael would just smile and nod. Truth be told, hed have happily had another child the very next day. Often, hed hoist Oliver onto his shoulders and stroll proudly through the village, greeting everyone they passed.
Then winter came. Snow blanketed the roads, howling winds sealed the village in. Emily peered out the window, waiting for her husbands returnbut Michael never came home. A tragic accident at work had taken him.
«Time heals,» the neighbours and well-meaning friends told her. «Youre not the first to go through this. Have a good cry, and who knows? In a few years, you might find someone else.»
Emily listened in silence, but the tears wouldnt come anymore, and that somehow made it worse. A year passed. The turbulent nineties squeezed even the sturdiest families. Wages in the village went unpaid for months. Those with livestock or who didnt shy from hard work fared better.
Emily felt the weight of it all. Oliver started school, and he needed shoes, clothes, mealswhich meant planting every inch of the garden to sell at market come autumn. She worked late into the evenings, her hands roughened, her smile faded, her spirit hardened.
«Grab that bucket, you lazy sod!» shed snap when Oliver tried sneaking off to his mates. «Done your homework?»
The boy would silently pick up the bucket, but in his mind, he remembered when things were good with Dadwhen Mum was kind and laughed.
At night, Emily often wept, cursing herself for losing her temper. But by morning, shed be stern and sullen again.
One Saturday, her friendsFaye and Lucydropped by. Shed never had close friends before; Michael had filled that need. But now, these two divorcees often popped round for a laugh and a cuppathough the «tea» was rarely just tea.
The morning started as usual. Emily got up without glancing in the mirror, already knowing her face looked drawn. She fed the pig, scattered grain for the chickens, piled dirty dishes in the sink, and ordered Oliver to wash up and hurry to school.
That evening, she wasnt expecting company, but she knew one of her «regulars» might turn up. Shed grown indifferent to their promisesif they came, fine; if not, the invitation wouldnt be repeated. The men usually got the hint quickly. Theyd see the boy, exchange a few awkward words, and leave with some excuse about her being «a woman with baggage.»
«Honestly, Em, youll scare them all off,» Faye would laugh. «Too fussy by half. Maybe its your beds fault? Need a new sofa?»
«Oh, Ill just dash out and buy one, shall I?» Emily sighed. «With what money?»
«Alright, dont snap. Just set the tableweve got company.»
Faye annoyed her, but Emily still wordlessly put out pickled gherkins. Catching sight of her wedding photo, she exhaled heavily:
«Forgive me, Mike. Its hard without you.»
«Theyre all the same anyway,» Faye said, as if reading her mind. «Cheers, loveheres to us! Were the best!»
The next morning, Emily tidied the remnants of the night and went to work.
Then Auntie Noraher late husbands auntvisited.
«Whats got into you, Em? Youve changed since Michael,» she said. «And these friends of yours theyre no good for you.»
«Come to lecture me, have you, Nora? Think Im some hopeless case? Ive got a house, a garden, my boys in school» Emily stopped short, realising she hadnt checked Olivers homework in over a week. His teacher had asked to meet her just days ago.
She didnt know what to say, so she started stacking dirty dishes into the sink.
«You were different before,» Nora pressed. «Lovely, hardworking, kind Ditch these silly nights out.»
«Im not out gallivanting,» Emily retorted. «Just having a chat with friends to take my mind off things. Cant I have a bit of rest after work?»
«Well, of course you can,» Nora sighed.
«Then dont preach. And keep your nose out, dear Auntie. Doors that way.»
Nora tightened her scarf and left without another word.
Emily winced, as if in pain. Guilt gnawed at her. She rushed out, catching Nora on the porch.
«WaitIve got carrots for you. Had a bumper crop this year.»
«Dont trouble yourself, love,» Nora waved her off.
«Please, I want to,» Emily insisted.
Nora knew life. She understood pain. This was Emilys silent apology. She stopped.
«Heres a bag,» Emily said, pouring in carrots. «Can you manage?»
«Ill manage, Em,» Nora said softly. Her heart ached for the woman Emily had become.
By Friday evening, Emily had packed onions and carrots to sell at market.
«At least Ill get a few quid,» she thought. «Havent seen a proper wage in months.»
«Where you off to with all that?» nosy neighbour Zoe asked, peering into her bags.
«Market,» Emily replied curtly.
She barely lugged the heavy sacks to the bus stop, where old George and Gladys were already waiting. But the bus never came.
«Thats it, then,» Gladys sighed. «Broken down again.»
George cursed the entire transport system before they trudged home, deciding to try another day.
Emily stayed. She couldnt face hauling the bags back, so she waited for a lift.
A Morris Minor passed, then a Land Roverboth full. Finally, a Ford Cortina slowed. She squinted, trying to see if there was space, but the driver stopped before she even raised her hand.
A man, slightly older, unfamiliarprobably from town. He glanced at her, then at her bags.
«Bus is off today. Broken down. Im heading into townneed a ride?»
«Suppose so,» Emily sighed.
«Sorted,» he grinned, stepping out. He was lean but lifted the heavy sack effortlessly.
«Could you drop me right at the market?» she asked.
«Could do.»
«Ill pay,» she said.
During the drive, Emily touched up her lipstick in the rearview mirror, studying the driver.
«Im Emily,» she finally said.
«Geoffrey. But Geoffs fine.»
«Geoffrey? Bit posh for a working man. Foreman or something?»
«Oh aye, director of factories and owner of steamships,» he joked. «Just a site manager, really.»
He dropped her at the market and even helped carry the bags. He only took half the fare.
«Rest tonight. Ill be driving back same way,» he said.
«Generous,» Emily smiled. «Lucky me.»
That evening, Geoff drove her home.
«Come in for tea, Geoffrey.»
«Just Geoff,» he corrected.
She hurried to set the table. Oliver peered in.
«Stop lurking. Go to your room. Homework done?»
«Nearly,» he muttered.
«Finish it!» she ordered.
Geoff, legs crossed by the stove, smiled at the boy.
«Lets be proper. Im Geoff. And you?»
«Ollie.»
«Oliver, then?»
The boy nodded.
«Struggling with school?»
«Maths. Cant get it.»
«Lets have a look.»
Half an hour later, Oliverthrilled with the helpwent to bed.
«Clear this,» Geoff said, pointing to the table. «Just tea for me.»
«Well, youre driving,» she agreed.
«Even if I werentjust tea. Or squash. Or juice. Thats it.»
Emily eyed him suspiciously but poured the tea and set out a plate of potatoes.
«Best be off,» Geoff said, hesitating. «I really liked you, Emily. Can I come Friday?»
She almost smiledshed expected this.
«Suppose so.»
«Im single,» he added, though she hadnt asked.
«Hell forget in a week,» she thought, not daring to hope.
Yet when Faye and Lucy dropped by after work, Emily shooed them out early. «What if he really comes?»
«No fair, Em!» Faye huffed. «Come to the pub!»
«Am I some teenager?»
«Were seeing a film!»
«No, you go. Ive cleaning to do. Friday came, and so did Geoff, with a small potted rosebush in hand. For the porch, he said. Oliver helped him plant it. They sat together after tea, talking about engines and starsthings Emily didnt understand, but the sound of their laughter filled the house like music long forgotten.
Weeks passed. Geoff came every Friday, then stayed through Saturdays, mending the fence, fixing the boiler, reading to Oliver before bed. The garden bloomed fuller than ever, and one evening, as Emily watched him kneel in the dirt pulling weeds, his hands steady and kind, she felt something shift inside hera quiet thaw, like the first soft ground after winter.
She didnt say it then, or even that autumn when he took Oliver fishing and brought back two skinny trout grinning like treasures. But one frosty morning, as they stood side by side feeding the chickens, Geoff slipped his gloved hand into hers.
She didnt let go.
And for the first time since Michael, Emily breathed easy, not because the pain was gone, but because it no longer had to be carried alone.
