30April
Im nearly thirty now, and ten years of deployments in hot zones have left their marks. Twice Ive been wounded, but the Lord kept me safe. After the second serious injury I spent months in a military hospital before being sent back to my home village, Willowbrook.
Willowbrook has changed a great deal in the meantime, as have its people. All my schoolmates have married and settled, yet one day I caught sight of Eleanor, a girl I could barely recall. When I left for the army she was a lanky girl of thirteen; today shes twentyfive, a striking beauty, still single. No man has yet won her heart, and she isnt keen on forming a family of her own.
Im broadshouldered, solid, with a sharp sense of right and wrong, and I could not walk past Eleanor without a word.
Are you really waiting for me, still unmarried? I asked, smiling at the pretty lass.
Perhaps, she replied, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks, her heart fluttering.
From that moment we began seeing each other. It was late autumn, we walked along a birchlined lane, the fallen leaves rustling underfoot.
Andrew, my father will never allow us to marry, Eleanor said sadly. I had already proposed twice. You know my father.
What can he do to me? Im not afraid of your father, I declared boldly. If he harms me, the law will take him down and he wont be a problem any longer.
Andrew, you dont understand my father at all, she whispered. Hes a hard man, and everything he touches turns to iron.
Arthur Whitaker was the most powerful man in the village. Once a modest entrepreneur, rumours now linked him to shady dealings. He was stout, with a cold, haughty gaze, and a reputation for cruelty. In his youth he built two farms here, breeding cattle and swine; more than half the village worked for him. Everyone bowed politely, almost to the point of kneeling, and he imagined himself a king.
My father wont consent to our wedding, Eleanor continued, and he wants me to marry the son of his old friend from the city. I cant stand that rotgut, drinkloving Victor. Ive told him a hundred times.
Were living in the Dark Ages, arent we? I said, bewildered. Who in modern times can force a girl to wed a man she doesnt love?
I loved Eleanor completelyher gentle glance, her quick temper, everything. She felt the same.
Alright, lets go, I said, taking her hand and quickening my step.
Where? she began to guess, but she could not stop me.
In the courtyard of the Whitaker manor, Arthur was deep in conversation with his younger brother Simon, who lived in the adjoining cottage and was always ready to lend a hand.
Mr. Whitaker, I wish to marry Eleanor, I announced. May I have your blessing?
Eleanors mother stood on the porch, hand over her mouth, eyes wide with fear at the sight of her domineering husband.
Arthurs eyes narrowed at my confidence. He stared me down, but I met his gaze without flinching. He could not grasp why I dared to speak so plainly.
Get out of here, you lunatic, Arthur barked. Youre a daft, wounded fool. My daughter will never be yours. Forget this road. Youre just another soldier.
Well marry anyway, I replied, firm as ever.
The villagers respected me, but Arthur knew nothing of battlefield life. To him, money was everything. I felt my pride sting. I clenched my fists, and Simon stepped between us, understanding that neither of us would yield.
While Simon ushered me out, Arthur forced his daughter back into the house as if she were a frightened child. He never forgave anyone who challenged him.
That night, a blaze lit up Willowbrook. My newly opened garage went up in flames.
Rot, I muttered, certain someone had set it ablaze.
Ten minutes later we were speeding down the A1.
The following night I drove silently to Eleanors cottage. Earlier that evening I had texted her, asking her to pack a few belongings so we could leave together. She agreed. From her bedroom window she tossed a bag to me, then slipped out, landing gently in my arms.
By dawn well be far away, I whispered. You have no idea how much I love you. She pressed close.
I feel frightened and uneasy, she admitted.
Ten minutes later we were on the road. Eleanors breath came quick and shallow with excitement. She sensed a new life ahead. The headlights of a car flickered behind us, startling her, but soon a sleek MercedesArthurspulled alongside, its engine revving.
No, not this! Eleanor cried, shrinking in fear.
Arthur stepped out, flanked by two burly men. He grabbed Eleanor by the arm; I tried to intervene but was struck hard, knocked to the ground, and beaten without a word. The men then climbed back into their car and drove off, leaving me lying on the verge.
I staggered home, barely conscious, and spent a week recovering. The police closed the arson case, citing faulty wiring. I understood the truth, but what haunted me most was Eleanors fate. She vanished from my phone, her number unreachable.
Her father sent her to the city to stay with his sister Agnes, giving her a decent sum and issuing strict orders:
Dont let Eleanor leave the house. No phone. If she returns, Ill make sure she disappears into the woods, and itll cost me nothing.
Damned Whitaker, Agnes muttered, why ruin your own childs life?
She placed Eleanor in a spare room, knowing she needed time until Arthur cooled his temper.
Arthur spread rumours that Eleanor was to marry Victor in the city and would never come back to Willowbrook.
Sooner or later, your father will calm down, Agnes told Eleanor. Find work, build a life.
Without Andrew? Eleanor asked.
Without him, Agnes replied.
Weeks later Eleanor realized she was expecting. Agnes comforted her, pitying her niece.
Your father must never know.
Eleanor wept. She longed to tell me about the baby, but her phone had been smashed. Even if Agnes let her use hers, there was nowhere to call.
I hate my father, Eleanor sobbed. Hes no man. Agnes stayed silent; there were reasons to despise him.
Time passed. I could not forget Eleanor. I drifted, did not enjoy anything, avoided other women, worked, fell into drinking, then quit. Meanwhile Eleanor gave birth to a healthy boy, Matty, a spittingimage of me. Her mother visited now and then to dote on the grandson. The Whitakers never learned of the child; they never visited.
Four years went by. Matty grew strong and clever. One spring, as blossoms filled the air, Eleanors mother arrived at Agness house, entered the kitchen and sank into a chair.
Oh, dear, she sobbed.
Mother, whats wrong? Eleanor asked.
Arthur is dying. Cancers taken him; the doctors said it was too late, she replied, tears streaming. Hed been a robust man who never went to the doctor.
How will I live alone? Eleanor whispered.
No one offered sympathy. Arthurs death in June was a quiet affair; only his cronies attended. Eleanor skipped the funeral, unable to forgive him. Few mourners turned up, and those who did whispered:
He treated people like trash; heavens justice has finally caught up with him.
After the funeral, I was away on a watch, then back, then out again, living with my mother. When Eleanor finally returned to the village after five years, her mother seemed steadier, the bruises from Arthurs tyranny faded. Photographs of Arthur were taken down so Eleanor wouldnt see him.
Two weeks after her arrival, my mother told me that I was on another patrol. A few days later, Eleanor walked with Matty along a lane, the boy chasing butterflies, she perched on a fallen branch, a gentle breeze ruffling her hair.
She thought back to her childhood, then felt a familiar tug in her heart.
Eleanor, I whispered, and she sprang up, we rushed toward each other.
I had changedharder, yet a lingering sorrow in my eyes. Eleanor remained as beautiful as ever, a little softer. The love Id never let go of still burned, though the pain had dulled.
Andrew, forgive me for everythingmy father, for never telling you about our son. It could have been different. I never married Victor; that was a lie my father spread. I lived with Aunt Agnes in the city.
I stood stunned as Matty, sprinting through the grass, reached us. In an instant I saw my son, so much like me as a child, his grin unmistakable.
My boy, I lifted him high, laughing. My own flesh and blood! I wont ever let you go.
Dad, can you buy me a football? Matty asked.
Of course, lad. Well pop down to the shop right now, get you a ball and whatever else you want. I turned to Eleanor, eyes soft, and she nodded through tears.
I am grateful to fate for bringing Eleanor back into my life. Fate favours those who are thankful, and it has rewarded me with a familys happiness I never imagined.
Lesson: gratitude turns hardship into blessing; never let pride keep you from the love that waits.
