Oh, youll love this oneits a proper English twist on the story.
Ten Years Too Late
Zach had a rough go of it in lovedivorced after three years of marriage, right around the time he turned thirty.
“At least there werent any kids,” hed tell his mates at work. “Wouldve been worse leaving them behind.”
Turns out, hed misjudged Emily. She wasnt the settling-down typetoo fond of nights out with her girlfriends, too restless. Hed fallen for her lively charm, but in the end, she was just a bit too lively and a bit too sharp-tongued.
“Zach, were sending you to Cliffside, a village about thirty miles from town,” the head engineer told him. “They need help fixing some equipment. Should take a month, maybe less. Youre a free man nowno missus holding you back. Perfect timing, eh?”
Zach didnt mind. A change of scenery sounded good, especially somewhere hed never been. When he got to Cliffside, they offered him a choice:
“You can stay at the workers digs, though theyre under renovation, or we can set you up in a cottage near the substation where youll be working.”
“No thanks to the renovations,” Zach laughed. “Id rather board with a landladymight even get a decent meal out of it. Single bloke like me”
So they put him up in a small cottage with a widow named Eleanor. She was stern, hardly spoke a word, always dressed head-to-toe in black with a scarf pulled low over her forehead. At first glance, Zach thought she was older, but the way she movedquick, purposefulgave her away.
They lived quietly, barely speaking, but Eleanor fed him well. Hed struck a deal with herbetter than the canteen, and what did it matter who he paid?
One day, he asked his workmate, “Listen, Tommy landlady, Eleanor shes not old, but she dresses like shes in mourning. Thought she might be religious, but Ive never seen her pray. Strange, isnt it?”
“Eleanor? Youve never seen her without that scarf, have you?” Tom asked.
“Nah. Shes always got it on by the time Im up. We exchange a few words, thats it. But she cooks a proper breakfast, not to mention lunch and dinner.”
“Thats what matters, mate,” Tom grinned. “My missus, Lucyshell feed me even if I come home three sheets to the wind. Gives me an earful first, mind you, but thats wives for you. Then she dishes up, grumbling all the while. But I know hershe loves me.”
Zach chuckled. “Too right. We blokes do love a good meal.”
After a pause, he asked, “Tom whyd you ask if Id seen her without the scarf? Whats the story there?”
Tom sighed. “Nothing much. Shes got lovely hair, thats all. Hides it away. Young woman like her, dressing like an old widow.”
“Why?”
“Because of what happened. She and Michaelthey were mad for each other, proper fairytale stuff. I was at their weddinghe was my cousin, but more like a brother. Everyone said they were the perfect pair. Then, a month in Michael took his Land Rover into town one spring. Snow was still thick, ice on the river solid. Mustve thought hed save time cutting across instead of using the bridge. Hit a weak patch. Went straight through. They found the car later, once the ice meltedwashed miles downstream.”
Zach whistled. “Bloody hell. Tried to take a shortcut.”
“Thats the way of it. Bridge wouldve added three miles. But he” Tom waved a hand. “Anyway, Eleanors been a widow ever since. Shes only about twenty-seven now.”
Zach was gutted. Poor Eleanora month of marriage, then tragedy. That evening, he walked back lost in thought, stepped insideand froze.
Eleanor stood with her back to him, brushing out long, dark waves of hair. The door creaked. She turnedand Zach couldnt speak. She was stunning, her face framed by those curls.
“Oh!” She startled, quickly twisting her hair into a bun and covering it with the scarf.
“Eleanor why hide all that?” Zach finally managed. “And here I thought you werewell, its the clothes, isnt it?”
“I made a promise,” she murmured, then vanished into the kitchen.
After that, she clammed up even more. Zach couldnt stop thinking about how to reach her.
Then, one day, he came home with a fistful of wild daisies. Spotted her in the garden and handed them over with a grin.
“For you. And no refusingtodays my birthday.”
She almost smiled. “You shouldve told me. Id have baked something.”
“Dont worry.” He pulled a cake, a bottle of wine, and some chocolates from his bag. “Shop-bought, but itll do. Lets celebrate.”
They sat down. Eleanor sipped her wine, then set the glass aside.
“I dont drink. But happy birthday, Zach.”
Her voice was soft, warm.
“Eleanor since were here, tell me about Michael. Ive heard bits. Sometimes saying it out loud helps.”
Silence. Then Zach started talking insteadabout his divorce, his ex, how wrong hed been about her.
Eleanor listened. Then, quietly, she spoke.
“I still love him. He was my fategiven and taken too fast. I never got to enjoy being his wife. The grief swallowed everything. At his grave, I promised to live only with his memory.”
Zach nodded. “We need to remember but we only get one life, Eleanor.”
She agreedbut couldnt break her promise.
A few days later, Zach left Cliffside, heart heavy. Eleanor had only said, “Goodbye, Zach. Be happy.”
Ten years passed. Zach never married. One summer, driving back from the coast, he saw the sign for Cliffside.
“Should I stop? Maybe I should”
He turned.
The village had changedproper tarmac roads now. He pulled up outside Eleanors cottage, heart hammering. New fence. Maybe shed moved. He stood there, unsure, until a voice spoke behind him.
“Looking for someone?”
He turned. There she waseven lovelier, softer, no black clothes now. Then recognition lit her face.
“Zach. The man who told me lifes only given once.” She smiled. “Come in. Ive just got back from the shops. Fancy a cuppa? Or are you here for work again?”
“No just passing through. Couldnt drive by without seeing you. Ive never forgotten you.” He grinned. “You know what they saywhats meant to be finds you.”
They married five years ago. He took her back to the city. Now shes raising their daughterspitting image of her. And their house? Full of happiness.
