30December
The ache in my heart finally eases.
When my husband Zachary died in that tragic accident, the whole town seemed to echo his name. Eight short years together, and then the crash that stole him away. I thought I would never recover, left alone with my son Sam.
Girls, Ive decided to quit everything and move out of the city to a village, I told my two close friends who were staying for tea. My parents house is empty; they left early too. I cant walk those streets any longer, cant stay in that flat. Zachary feels like hes still here, sometimes I even glimpse a shadow at the edge of my vision, but when I turn, theres nothing. What is this, I wonder?
One of them, Mary, hesitated. Rachel, Im not sure you could manage life in the country. You grew up here, everything you know is in the city.
Ill teach at the village school, I replied with resolve.
Then well visit you often, said Jane, and we all laughed.
For the past five years Sam and I have lived in a modest cottage on the edge of the village, right by the woods. I work at the local primary school, and the villagers have come to respect meafter all, I was born in this part of the country.
That winter was bitterly cold, and the second half of December brought deep snow and blizzards. New Years was only a week away when a lateevening gale rattled the house, though inside we were warm and cosy. Sam and I love evenings when the world outside is a white tempest, while we sit at the kitchen table sipping hot herbal tea.
Mum, I think someones knocking, Sam whispered.
Its just the wind, I said, but I paused, listening. A faint knock came from the front door. I walked to the hallway and called out, Whos there?
Please, open the door, a weak, hoarse voice begged.
I felt no fear, yet I couldnt understand why anyone would brave such weather to show up at our remote doorstep. In good weather we rarely get visitors; the house sits a little way off, near the forest. I opened the door and saw a man halfburied in snow, his coat draped over my shoulders as he collapsed. I called Sam over.
My God, is he drunk? the first thought flashed through my mind, then I dismissed ithe wouldnt be frozen solid, would he?
Together we pulled him inside. He lay on the floor, shaking, his breath shallow. By his clothing it was clear he was a hunter, though his rifle was missing.
I was no medic, and the storm made an ambulance impossible. After a couple of minutes he turned onto his back and opened his eyes. His right trouser leg was torn, his leg slick with blood.
Who are you? Whats happened? I asked gently.
Sorry, please, he rasped. We stripped off his outer garments; his blue eyes pleaded for help, and a sudden panic rose in mecould I really save him?
I examined his leg; thankfully there was no fracture, only a deep gash. That I could tend to eased my mind a little. Sam and I helped him settle by the fire, leaning against the wall. He managed a faint smile as he looked at his own wound.
My name is Arthur. Im sorry to barge in like this, he said.
Rachel, I introduced myself, and this is my son Sam.
Im a doctor by training, Arthur continued, and I can see this isnt a lifethreatening injury, just a lot of blood loss.
A sigh of relief escaped me; a doctor knew how to treat himself. After cleaning and bandaging the wound, Arthur seemed cheered, sipping hot tea flavored with thyme and mint, a spoonful of raspberry jam on the side.
We fell into conversation over tea. He told me his story.
Im fortythree. I spent years as a military medic, serving abroad in conflict zones. I lived in the field for most of my career, which put a strain on my marriage. My wife couldnt handle the constant moving and left with our daughter for the city, where her parents live. She remarried and is happy now, and I bear no ill will; not every woman can endure that life.
I frowned. And love? How do you manage it in both sorrow and joy?
He shrugged. Not everyone can. When I married young, I promised her things I couldnt deliver. I understand why she left.
We talked until after midnight. Then Arthur asked, Are you married?
No, I answered. My husband died tragically, and I left the city five years ago. This is my family home; here my heart has thawed. I worried Sam would miss the city, but hes settled well, befriended the local lads and feels at home now. Sam had already drifted off to sleep.
Do you ever think about the city? he asked.
Not really, I said. Im used to the quiet, I teach English and literature at school, and Im content. Do you work in a hospital in the city?
No, Arthur smiled. I left the army at forty, retired with a pension. My mother fell ill, so I moved out here to care for her. I even tried my hand as a gamekeeper, but she passed away. I returned to the city, opened a pharmacy, and business is doing well. Im planning another branch, though I wont go into detail now. Lately, though, Ive been haunted by uneasy feelingsperhaps grief over my mother, perhaps something else. Its left my soul sore.
I nodded. Loss does leave a mark on the spirit.
He sighed. Friends suggest I see a psychiatrist, but I laugh it off. I came out here to hunt, to wander the woods. I got lost, my car broke down, I ran into a wild boar herd and one of them gored me. Thats why my leg is in this state. He gestured to his bandaged foot. Luckily I still had my rifle; I fired a few shots, not sure if I hit any. At least the herd didnt chase me back, and I stumbled to your cottage, leaving the gun by the porch.
Its late, I said, Ill set you up with a bed by the fire. Good night.
The next morning Arthurs temperature spiked; the wound had not healed fully. He couldnt continue his journey. The storm had calmed, and Sam and I found my old car hidden in the woods, halfburied in drifts not far from the house.
Ill have to treat myself, Arthur said, I have a firstaid kit in the car. Ill fetch the medicines.
Uncle Arthur, well dig out the car, give you the keys, and bring the kit, Sam volunteered.
He managed to retrieve the kit intact. Over the following days Arthur recovered, playing chess with Sam each evening. When he felt stronger, he planned to head back to the city. There were only three days left before New Years.
I asked nothing; I sensed his need to leave, hearing him on the phone discussing arrangements.
Before he left I asked, Is your soul still hurting?
He packed his bag, looked straight at me, and answered, Now its crying He stepped out, climbed into his 4×4, and drove away.
After he was gone the house felt oddly quiet, as if something essential had slipped away. I didnt indulge in false hope; I realised I had grown fond of Arthura solid, dependable manbut I held no expectations.
The blizzard persisted, though it had lost its fury; the wind whispered now and then, carrying soft flakes.
Everything will be for the best, I told myself. It was good he stayed a short while; otherwise forgetting him would have been harder.
He never called, despite his promise to check in once he reached the city.
He has his own life, his own concerns, I concluded, watching the snow settle.
New Years approached. On the morning of 31December I drove my old hatchback into the nearby town, stocked up on provisions and sweets for a weeks worth of celebrations. Though its just Sam and me, we always mark the holiday; the tree is already dressed.
That evening another blizzard rolled in, but I was glad Id shopped before the storm. Sam helped set the table, hanging fairy lights on the tree.
Mum, is someone at the door? Sam asked.
Its probably the wind, I replied, though I listened. A knock echoed through the hallway.
Opening the door, I was stunned to see Arthur standing there, a handful of shopping bags in his arms, his face lit up.
May I? he said, stepping straight into the hallway and then inside.
Sam squealed, Yay! Uncle Arthur! and ran to hug him.
Hold on, Sam, let me kiss your mother first, Arthur joked, then leaned in and pressed his lips to my own. His heart hammered, and I felt a childlike flutter.
Sam, Rachel, I may be rushing things, but Ive realised I cant picture a life without you both, he said, pulling a small box from his pocket. Rachel, will you marry me?
You travelled all the way here for this? I asked, surprised. He smiled and nodded.
Sam beamed, eyes shining with hope. I looked at him, then back at Arthur, and gave a quiet nod.
Ill say yes, but I cant leave this place, I said.
Neither do I, he replied, laughing. I love it here, and a gamekeepers work is still needed. Ill still run my business in the city, but Ill stay.
Time moved on. Sam, now ten, is thriving at school, while I teach and live with Arthur in the house we expanded together. The sorrow that once gnawed at my soul has vanished, replaced by love and joy that fill every corner of our lives.
