**Diary Entry**
“Lena! Len!” The shout echoed through the quiet morning air outside the five-story block of flats, its front door hanging loose on one hinge. A boy leaned against his bike, craning his neck to call up at the windows.
“Lenaaa, Len!”
“I swear Ill throttle someone” A burly bloke in a blue vest stuck his head out the window. “Clear off, you little pest.”
“I wasnt calling you! Lenaaa!”
“For heavens sake,” a woman in a nightgown and curlers poked her head out another window. “Its Saturday, let people sleep!”
“Shut it, all of you!” A tall, balding man yelled from yet another flat. “I barely slept all nightjust dozed off, and now”
“Len! You coming or what?”
The door creaked open, and out stepped a girl in a light summer dress, clutching a tote bag with something wrapped in parchment inside.
“Took your time. Oversleep?”
“Nah, was making sandwiches,” she said matter-of-factly, tucking the bag into the bikes rear rack before hopping onto the crossbar. The boy kicked off, spinning the pedals hard as they sped away.
“Bloody hooligan!” someone yelled after them.
“Let us sleep!” another voice grumbled.
“Sleep then!” the boy shouted back, laughing as they circled the block. “Its Saturday morningwhats keeping you up?”
They left the estate behind, racing down a dirt track through the fields.
“Len, you tired?”
“Nah. You?”
“Me neither.” He pedalled harder.
A sudden hissthe tyre blew, sending them tumbling into the grass.
“Alex! What now?”
“Dunno,” he grinned, sprawled in the clover. “Maybe we live here forever.”
“Alex!”
“What? Well build a shed, fish in the river, cook over a fire.”
“Where dyou get firewood?”
“Well rub sticks together. Or nick matches from fishermen.”
They laughed, lying back to watch the clouds drifta teapot, a dog, shapes shifting above them.
“Fancy a swim?”
“Go on, then.”
They raced to the river, dried off on the hot yellow sand.
“Len, whatll you do when you grow up?”
“Finish school, uni maybe, then work. You?”
“Marry you, get rich. Or the other way round. Those two things, anyway.”
“Dont be daft.”
“Alright, fineIll do my army stint first, learn a trade. Before you run off with say, Vic. Saw you giggling with him yesterday, heads together.”
“We were doing the school paper!”
“Sure, sure. But listenIll steal you back, no matter who you marry.”
***
Years later, another Saturday dawned. The roar of a motorbike shattered the quiet.
“Lenaaa!”
“Bloody yob!” a woman shrieked from a window.
“Let a man sleep!”
“Keep it down!”
“Len! Not you lotits Saturday, go back to bed!”
The same wobbly door groaned open, and out she steppedolder now, but still quick to smile.
“Hi. Oversleep?”
“Nah. Made us butties.”
“Some of us work nights!” a voice snapped.
Alex handed her a helmet. She climbed on behind him, arms tight around his waist as they sped offpast the estate, onto the tarmac, then bumping down country lanes.
“Alright back there?”
“Fine!” she shouted over the wind, tears whipped from her eyes, loose hair flying.
When they stopped, she stretched her stiff legs. They lay in the grass, clouds overhead.
“Looktwo cats sitting there.”
“Ha! And that ones a bike.”
“Swim?”
Later, on the sand, they kissed till they were dizzy.
“Len Ive got call-up papers. Army. Tomorrow.”
“What? Why didnt you”
“Didnt know myself. Dont cry. Ill go, then uni, then marry you. You wont run off with Vic, yeah?”
***
The station platform was packed when his train pulled in. His mother sobbed into his shoulder; his dad shook his hand stiffly. His little sister flung herself at him, bawling. Through the crowd, he spotted Lenahands clasped to her chest, waiting.
“Len crying?”
“Happy tears.”
“Plenty more where those came from.”
His family huffed, but right then, all he saw was her.
***
“Son, youre barely homeshouldnt you be out enjoying yourself? What about uni?”
“Sorted, Mum. And Im getting married.”
“Married! At your age? Shes just after”
“Mum. I love her. Always have.”
A row followedtoo young, too rushed. He left quietly, door clicking shut behind him.
***
“Its a boy!” Alex burst into his parents house, beaming. “A son!” Tears all roundhis mum weeping, his dad blinking hard, his sister shrieking about being an aunt. Five years later, a daughter arrived. Their little princess.
***
“Son, you quit your job? How will you manage?”
“Mum, Im done working for peanuts. Well be fine.”
“But Lenashe agreed? Its steady pay!”
“I want better for my kids than splitting a chocolate bar three ways.”
“We managed without all that!”
“Times change.”
They made it. Not easilyhardships, setbacks. Nights he wanted to howl, chuck it all in. But there she was, calmly making sandwiches.
One evening, she handed him a guitar.
“Whats this?” He bit back a snarl.
“Sing. It helps. Always does.”
Softly, they started: *”Ill ride my bike for miles and miles”*
He knew she cried when he wasnt looking. He pretended not to notice, and fought harder.
Eventually, they had it allmoney, a house in the country, a city flat, kids set for life. They travelled, dined well.
Yet lately, hed felt stagnant. A mate invited him to a club. “Not just any night outtrust me.”
“Alex, weve got theatre tickets,” Lena said.
“Work thing. Cant bail.”
First lie hed ever told her. At the club, he sat scowling till a woman approached. Smart, polished.
“Fancy leaving? I hate it here too.”
“Why come?”
“Needs must.”
Outside, she confesseda toddler at home, deadbeat ex, doing what she must to save up.
“One day, Ill put this behind me. Or meet someone decent like you.”
They talked all night in the park. No lies, no touching. Just words. He floated home in a daze.
A month of secret meetings later, he came home to silence. Lena was gone. No note. The kids hadnt seen her; his parents were clueless.
He rang the other woman. Met her, looked her in the eye.
“Im sorry. I love my wife. You were fresh air. I hope you find your way.”
“Thank you. Tell her the truthwe never even kissed.”
***
Lena was at her parents old flat, four days gone, thinking. Making sandwiches, slow and deliberate.
Thenengine roar, a shout below:
“Lenaaa!”
“Give us peace!” a neighbour yelled.
“Disgraceful!”
Alex stood under the window, singing: *”Ill ride my bike for miles and miles”*
The door banged. She stepped out, took the helmet, climbed on behind him. They tore through town, down to the fields, just like old times.
“Tired?”
“Nope.”
In the grass, they watched the cloudsa ship, an old couple sipping tea.
“Len forgive me?”
“For what?”
“I hurt you.”
“Did you?”
“Never again.”
“Good.”
“Sing with me?”
And so they did.
**Lesson:** Love isnt the absence of stormsits learning to dance in the rain together. Even when you forget the steps.
