The husband sent his wife to the countryside to help her lose weight, though his real motive was to enjoy himself freely with his secretary.
“Steve, I dont understand what you want,” said Emily.
“Nothing special,” replied Steven. “I just need some time alone to rest. Go to the countryside, relax, shed a few pounds. Youve let yourself go a bit lately.”
He cast a disdainful glance at her figure. Emily knew shed gained weight because of her treatment, but she said nothing.
“Where is this countryside place?” she asked.
“Somewhere very picturesque,” Steven smiled. “Youll love it.”
Emily chose not to argue. She needed a break too. “Maybe were just tired of each other,” she thought. “Let him have his space. And I wont return unless he asks me to.”
She began packing her things.
“Youre not upset with me, are you?” Steven added. “Its just for a little while, just to rest.”
“No, its fine,” Emily replied with a smile.
“Right, Im off then,” Steven said, kissing her cheek before leaving.
Emily sighed deeply. Their kisses had long lost their warmth.
The journey took far longer than expected. Emily took a wrong turn twiceher GPS was acting up, and there was no signal. Finally, a village sign appeared ahead. The place was remote, the houses quaint and well-kept, with charming wooden carvings.
“Theres nothing modern here,” Emily thought.
She wasnt wrong. The cottage looked almost derelict. Without a car or phone, shed have felt transported to another century. She checked her mobile. “Ill call him now,” she told herself, but still no signal.
The sun was setting, and Emily was exhausted. If she didnt find the house soon, shed have to sleep in the car.
She had no desire to return to London, nor did she want to give Steven the satisfaction of saying she couldnt cope.
She stepped out of the car. Her bright red jacket stood out comically against the muted village scenery. She smiled to herself.
“Right then, Emily, no getting lost,” she muttered.
The next morning, the piercing crow of a rooster woke her as she dozed in the car.
“What on earth is that racket?” she grumbled, rolling the window down.
The rooster fixed her with one beady eye before launching into another ear-splitting screech.
“Why are you making such a fuss?” Emily called out, but a broom suddenly swiped past the window, silencing the bird.
An elderly man appeared at the roadside.
“Morning!” he greeted her.
Emily stared, startled. The villagers seemed plucked straight from a fairy tale.
“Dont mind our rooster,” the old man said. “Hes harmless, just likes to make a din as if hes being plucked alive.”
Emily burst out laughing, her drowsiness vanishing. The old man grinned.
“Staying long, or just passing through?”
“Resting, for as long as it takes,” Emily replied.
“Come in, love. Have breakfast with us. Youll meet the wife tooshe bakes cakes, but theres hardly anyone to eat them now. The grandkids visit once a year, the children less often…”
Emily didnt hesitate. She wanted to know the locals.
Peters wife was every bit the storybook grandmotherapron-clad, headscarf tied, her smile gummy and her wrinkles kind. The house was spotless and cosy.
“Its wonderful here!” Emily exclaimed. “Why dont the kids visit more?”
Margaret shrugged.
“We tell them not to. The roads are dreadful. After rain, it takes a week before you can get out. There was a bridge once, but it was old. Collapsed fifteen years back. Were like prisoners here. Peter only drives to the shop once a week. The boat wont take much more. Hes strong, but age…”
“These cakes are divine!” Emily said. “Dont you have anyone looking after you? Someone must.”
“Whats the use? Theres only fifty of us left. Once, there were a thousand. Now everyones gone.”
Emily frowned.
“Thats odd. What about the council?”
“Other side of the bridge. With the detour, its sixty miles. Think we havent asked for help? Same answer every timeno money.”
Emily realised shed found her holiday project.
“Tell me, wheres the council office? Or could you take me? Doesnt look like rain.”
The couple exchanged glances.
“You serious? You came here to rest.”
“I am. Rest takes many forms. And if it rains? Ive got to think of myself too.”
They smiled warmly.
At the council office, they told her:
“How long will you pester us? You make us out to be villains. Look at the towns roads! Whos going to fund a bridge for fifty people? Find a sponsor. Like Thompson. Ever heard of him?”
Emily nodded. Of course she hadThompson owned the company her husband worked for. He was from here; his parents had moved to the city when he was a boy.
After a night of thinking, Emily made her decision. She had Thompsons numberSteven had called him from her phone enough times. She decided to approach him as a stranger, not mentioning Steven.
The first call failed. On the second, Thompson listened, paused, then laughed.
“You know, Id almost forgotten I was born there. Hows the place?”
Emily brightened.
“Lovely. Quiet, wonderful people. Ill send photos and videos. James, Ive tried everythingno one will help these folks. Youre the only one who could.”
“Ill think on it. Send the photos. Id like to remember how it was.”
For two days, Emily filmed and photographed for Thompson. The messages were read, but no reply came. Just as she was about to give up, James called himself.
“Emily, could you come to my office on High Street tomorrow at three? Bring a rough plan of the work needed.”
“Of course, thank you, James!”
“You know, its like revisiting childhood. Lifes a rushnever time to stop and dream.”
“I understand. But you should visit yourself. Ill be there tomorrow, I promise.”
Hanging up, she realisedit was the same office where Steven worked. She smirked, anticipating the shock ahead.
She arrived early, with an hour to spare. After parking, she headed straight for Stevens office. His secretary was absent. Hearing voices from the break room, she approachedand found Steven and his secretary inside.
The sight of Emily stunned them both. She froze in the doorway as Steven scrambled to his feet, hastily tucking in his shirt.
“Emily, what are you doing here?”
She fled the office and, in the hallway, bumped straight into James. Handing him the documents, tears welling, she bolted for the exit. She barely remembered the drive back to the village. Collapsing onto the bed, she sobbed uncontrollably.
The next morning, a knock woke her. James stood at the door, a team behind him.
“Morning, Emily. Saw you werent ready to talk yesterday, so I came myself. Fancy some tea?”
“Of course, come in.”
Not a word was said about the previous night. Over tea, nearly the whole village gathered outside. James glanced out the window.
“Quite the turnout! Emily, isnt that old Peter?”
Emily smiled. “It is.”
“Thirty years ago, he was already a granddad, and his wife fed us her cakes.”
The man looked at Emily anxiously. She replied, “Margarets in fine form. Still baking her famous cakes.”
The day flew by in a whirlwind. Jamess team measured, noted, and calculated.
“Emily, may I askabout your husband do you forgive him?”
She thought, then smiled. “No. And Im almost grateful it happened this way. So?”
James was silent. Emily stood, gazing around.
“If the bridge is rebuilt, this place could be extraordinary! Restore the cottages, create retreats. The natures untouched, authentic. But no ones doing it. And if I didnt want to go back to the city…”
James watched her admiringly. She was specialdetermined, sharp. Hed never noticed before, but now he saw her differently.
“Emily, may I visit again?”
She met his gaze. “Whenever you like. Id be happy.”
The bridge construction progressed swiftly. The villagers thanked Emily, and youngsters began returning. James became a frequent visitor.
Steven called repeatedly, but Emily refused to answer, eventually blocking his number.
At dawn, another knock came. Still half-asleep, Emily opened the door, bracing for bad newsbut there stood Steven.
“Hi, Emily. Ive come to take you home. Enough sulking. Sorry,” he said.
Emily laughed. “‘Sorry’? Thats it?”
“Fine. Get ready, we
