The Return
“Lottie! Where are you? Lottie!”—Kate dashed into the house, scanned the empty room, then hurried back onto the porch, her heels clacking against the wood, the door slamming behind her. “Where could she be?” Frustration and impatience made her stamp her foot.
From behind the corner of the house emerged a slight girl holding a plastic basin.
“Finally! I’ve been shouting for ages…” Kate rushed down the steps to her friend.
“I was hanging the washing in the garden. What’s happened?”—Lottie set the basin on the porch.
“Something has.” Kate’s dark eyes glinted beneath thick black bangs. She wanted to tease her friend, to withhold the news, but couldn’t hold back. The words spilled out in one breath: “Colin’s back.”
“Really?”—Disbelief flickered in Lottie’s eyes, then joy, then confusion, and finally doubt again.
“I’m not lying. I saw him myself. Doubt his mother will let him out of her sight—she’s missed him too.”
“Let’s go,” Lottie said with a laugh, already darting from the yard.
The sun bathed the village in golden light, the river winding lazily through overgrown banks, the world stunning in its beauty. But Lottie saw none of it. Her heart pounded, “Colin! Colin!”—anticipation of their long-awaited reunion thrumming through her.
“Look, there he is!”—Kate grabbed Lottie’s arm.
Colin walked toward them in his military uniform. Spotting the girls, he broke into a run.
Joy flooded Lottie’s heart. She tore forward, crashing into his embrace, pressing herself against him, trembling.
Kate stood aside, watching the lovers with envy. She’d fancied Colin too, but he’d never noticed anyone but Lottie. He’d finished school two years early, stayed to help his parents on their farm—selling crops, milk, and meat. Then, the army called him away.
“What does he see in her? I’m prettier. Why does she get everything?” Kate bit her lip, eyes stinging. She turned and fled home, flung herself onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and sobbed.
“What’s the matter?”—Her mother appeared from the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Kate snapped.
“Hmph. Jealous, are you? Think there won’t be other lads? Look at Alfie—can’t take his eyes off you. Earns well, handsome, has his own house.”
“Mum!”—Kate wailed louder. “I’m leaving. Soon as I finish school. Off to the city.”
“Don’t be daft. Who’d want you there? No, love, home’s where you belong. You leave, they’ll stay…”
“No!”—Kate lifted her head. “I’m prettier, my figure’s better. Lottie’ll go to seed after babies. I’ll think of something. Just can’t leave them alone.” Her tears dried.
“That’s more like it,” her mother said approvingly, returning to the kitchen.
Soon, Lottie arrived. Kate saw the happiness in her eyes, and jealousy twisted her heart. She forced a smile.
“Why’d you part so soon?”—Kate couldn’t hide her spite.
“Everyone’s gathering tonight to celebrate his return. He’s coming to the dance later. Oh, Kate, I’m so happy! What’s wrong with you?”—Lottie frowned, puzzled.
“Don’t want to intrude. And I’ve nothing to wear, you know Mum won’t spare a penny for a new dress.”
“Take mine—the one you liked. It’s too small for me now, but it’ll fit you perfectly. Come try it.”
Kate barely stifled her delight. She preened before the mirror in Lottie’s room, admiring herself. The dress clung perfectly.
“You don’t mind?”
“Not a bit,” Lottie said lightly, hugging her. “Keep it. I’ve supper to make.”
“See you tonight!”—Kate pecked Lottie’s cheek and dashed home.
That evening, Lottie fetched Kate, and they walked to the village hall together.
Bright light spilled from the brick building, music thumping inside. A few girls already danced in the center, while lads played billiards in the corner. Lottie searched for Colin.
“He’s not here. Let’s dance.”—Kate twirled onto the floor, arms raised, stealing glances at the door.
When the music faded, she stepped outside, fanning her flushed face. Early June evenings were still cool. She shivered. Nearby, Alfie smoked.
Kate peered into the deepening dusk until she spotted Colin—recognized him by his uniform. Without hesitation, she descended the steps and sidled up to Alfie, looping her arms around his neck. Her pale dress stood out in the gloom.
“What’s this, Kate?”—Alfie sounded startled.
Instead of answering, she crushed her lips to his. Alfie recovered quickly, pulling her close. When Kate shoved him away and glanced over her shoulder, Colin was already striding off. Annoyed, Alfie tugged her back, but she hissed, “Get off!” and ran inside.
It had worked even better than she’d planned. The dress had tricked Colin. He must’ve thought it was Lottie kissing another man. No wedding now!
“Seen Colin?”—Lottie asked when Kate entered.
“Saw him. Lingered by the door, then left. Dance with me.”
“Left?”—Lottie bolted outside.
Kate joined the dancers as if nothing had happened.
Lottie caught Colin by his gate.
“Wait! Why did you leave?”—She grabbed his arm.
“Waited for me, did you? Picked out a dress? Wear it for whoever you were kissing,” he hissed, wrenching free, and vanished inside.
Lottie stood stunned, arms limp. Then trudged home.
Next morning, she went to Colin’s house.
“Morning, Aunt Gwen,” she greeted his mother.
The woman scowled.
“Don’t know what you’ve done, but Colin came home in a state. Said there’ll be no wedding.”
Lottie rushed to Kate. Who else could she turn to? Sobbing, she spilled everything.
“Let’s visit Old Mary. She reads folks like books. Maybe he’s got a girl back where he was stationed?”
“No.”—Lottie shook her head, tears streaking her face. “He wouldn’t. I’d know…”
They approached the crumbling cottage on the village outskirts. The porch stairs groaned underfoot. Lottie halted.
“I’m not going in.”
“Why not?”—Kate reached for her, but Lottie twisted away and fled.
Kate hesitated, then a low voice spoke behind her:
“Changed your mind?”
A stout woman filled the doorway, apron straining over her belly, wild grey hair escaping her headscarf. Her black eyes bored into Kate, who shuddered.
“Come in, since you’re here,” Mary said, vanishing inside.
Kate entered a dim, low-ceilinged room heavy with incense and herbs.
“Sit.”—Mary nodded at the table.
Kate perched on the chair’s edge. The woman sat opposite, her weight making the wood creak.
“Your friend ran off. Scared?”
“I—”
“Hush. I see it all. Envious, are you? Thought to steal her joy? No happiness in that. You’ll die in ten years, and they’ll be together still. But you can change it.” Mary’s gaze burned.
Kate trembled, bolting outside.
“What’d she say? You’re shaking,” Lottie asked, waiting nearby.
“All’s well!”—Kate tried to smile, but it twisted into something feral.
Colin stayed away. Lottie avoided Kate, wasting away like a fire without wood.
“Your Aunt Rose called. Pass your exams, then go stay with her. You’ll wither here. Rose’ll help find work. Out of sight, out of mind,” her mum said, tired of her misery.
Lottie scraped through her A-levels, took her certificate, and left. She didn’t return, though homesick. Mum called with news—Colin and Kate married.
Aunt Rose got her a salon receptionist job. In spare moments, Lottie learned styling.
Meanwhile, Kate bore a daughter, then a son. Colin strayed—villages gossip.
Mum begged her home. Lottie missed it too. Years had passed—surely she could face them. So she returned.
At midday, she stepped from the bus onto dusty pavement. The silence enveloped her; she breathed deep, as if she’d never left, and smiled. How had she stayed away so long?
Light-footed, she walked home. Mum saw her through the window, rushed out, embraced her.
“Look at you—magazine-cover pretty.”
LottieAnd in the quiet of the evenings, as the years stretched on, she would sometimes sit by the river, watching the water ripple past, and wonder if forgiveness had been enough, after all.
