Touching a gaze and feeling happiness
For nineteen years Evelyn has dwelt in her little Yorkshire hamlet with her mother Margaret and her grandmother Ethel, ever hoping that one day Thomas, the boy she has loved since childhood, might return. She would smile at the memory of the neighbour lad, five years her senior, and think:
It would be wonderful if Thomas suddenly turned up at the village green. But alas, his grandmother passed three years ago, even though I tended to her
After leaving school at sixteen, Evelyn entered the county medical college and, upon graduating, took a post as a nurseassistant at the local health centre. She often asked herself:
What is a womans happiness? Does it even exist? We live as three women, and I cannot fathom what happiness means to Mother. She seems just as lost. She would recount how my father, a man I never saw, fled when he learned she was pregnant. And my grandmother Ethel, a kind soul, raised two daughters alone after being widowed early.
Evelyn tended the villagers, though still a girl, administering injections, measuring blood pressure, and offering gentle words. They respected her, for she was one of their own. Since childhood shed dreamed of being a healer, mending cats, dogs, and friends scraped knees with green ointment, and she could tend her own small cuts.
One evening, returning from the health centre, her thoughts drifted again to Thomas.
What am I doing, thinking of him constantly, she chided herself, perhaps hes already married, perhaps he has a brood of children, and will never learn that I have loved him since we were thirteen.
The last time he had come was for his grandmothers funeral; they exchanged little more than a few words. He had been with his mother, who seemed frail, leaning on his arm.
Winter had long settled over the hills, the New Year had passed, and February was drawing to a close. Margaret worked the village post, while Ethel stayed at home, baking fragrant scones, shaping dumplings and pies.
Turning toward her cottage, Evelyn cast a familiar glance at the neighbours house, the key to which her grandmother had given her long ago when she cared for the old lady. After heavy snowfalls, Evelyn sometimes cleared a path to that house, hoping Thomas might appear, but
Hello, Gran, wheres Mother? She ought to be home by now, asked the young granddaughter.
She came in, but went to visit Mary, her friend, who was under the weather. Shell be back soon with some medicine. Come and sit; Ill get you a bite. You look like youve been out in the cold with us, said Ethel in her soft, familiar tone.
Indeed, Gran, Im famished, and the frost still bites. Spring will chase the winter away, Im sure, Evelyn laughed. Soon the season will pack its bags and head for warmer climes. I love spring.
Evelyn slipped into her modest bedroom, lay on the bed, and the memory of Thomas resurfaced. Once, when he was seventeen, he had helped his grandfather Samuel repair a roof during the summer holidays. He slipped, almost falling, but Samuel caught his hand just in time. A stray nail injured his foot. From her garden Evelyn saw the accident, fetched a bandage and green salve, and hurried to his side. Thomas sat wincing, while his grandmother clapped her hands in distress.
Pain, Thomas? Let me dress that wound, the girl demanded, eyes bright. He looked at her, surprised.
Youve found yourself a doctor, he muttered, wryly.
Dont be modest, his grandmother chided, shes been treating anyone since she was a child, stitching up as if she were a seasoned medic.
Evelyn examined the cut and said, Its nothing serious, just shallow. Ill have it dressed in a jiffy, as she worked, asking, Does it hurt?
Her blue eyes shone with sympathy; she could have wept for his plight. Thomas, seeing the tenderness, smiled.
No bother, it doesnt hurt at all, he replied, waiting as she wrapped his foot. He would forever remember those clear blue eyes, for Evelyn was then about twelve.
When Thomas returned from the army and saw his mother, he was startled. She was pale, lips cracked from the cold. He could not hide his tears as he sat beside her. She wept with relief, grateful that her son had come home, and whispered, Thank heavens, my boy, youre back; now I may finally lie down in peace.
Mother, spare me the speeches, Thomas replied, I promise to look after you.
He proved a dutiful son, helping his mother with injections, massaging her frail limbs, while her heart grew stronger. He found work and dreamed of one day getting his mother on her feet again, a dream that gradually came true. With time his mother regained cheerfulness, managing the household, and often recalled the old family home in the village.
Ah, son, how splendid it would be to live here again, not having to descend four flights of stairs, just sit on a porch chair and breathe the fresh air. Perhaps keep some chickens, she mused.
Thomas decided to travel to the village and set off on Saturday. He knew it was foolish to go in winter to a longabandoned cottage, yet he promised his mother he would scout the place that weekend. Her eyes sparkled with hope. Though he doubted the practicality of living there, he felt duty bound him to go.
Stepping off the bus, he was surprised by a wide, tractorcleared lane that led straight to the grandmothers homestead, the very house he had visited every year as a child. He thought he would have to trudge kneedeep in snow, but the track was cleared to the gate and even the three steps of the porch were free of drifts, a battered broom leaning against the wall.
Whos been sweeping the path? Perhaps someones moved in, he wondered.
The windows, draped with thin curtains sewn by the old lady herself, were still there. He remembered her love of looking out, never pulling the curtains shut. Ascending the porch, he fished the key from his pocket and turned the lock. A cheerful, youthful voice rang from behind him:
Hello! Its been ages since you were here. Ive been waiting, feeling that one day youd return.
Thomas startled, nearly losing his footing. Before him stood a slender young woman in a sheepskin coat and a fluffy white hat, her blue eyes shining like the sky after a storm. A blush tinged her cheeks, and she smiled warmly.
Dont you remember me? Im Ethels granddaughter pick up the pieces, she teased.
He recognised the girl who had tended his injured foot, the one who never let anyone near him. Her name escaped him.
Im Evelyn you dont recall me at all? he asked.
Evelyn, of course, Evelyn, he laughed, how could I forget? You patched my foot you were tiny then, with twin braids that stuck out to the sides.
You do remember?
A delighted grin spread across her face as Thomas stared, unable to look away.
I used to clear the snow, waiting for you, she babbled, I have so much to tell you. Come inside, have some tea with my mother and grandmother; theyll be delighted. Then we can stroll through the house; theres still time.
Thomas sat at Evelyns kitchen table, sipping tea sweetened with cherry jam, listening intently. Her mother and grandmother slipped away to another room after the happy reunion.
My grandmother fell ill lately, and I didnt want to upset you and your mother, Evelyn said. I cared for her, fed her. Ive always wanted to be a medic, and now I work as a nurseassistant here.
I remember perfectly how you tended my foot, Thomas chuckled, you did it with such seriousness that no scar remained.
Oh, stop it, she waved her hand, blushing, I was just so worried about you. Ive loved you for as long as I can remember Oops, she covered her mouth, surprised at her own confession.
Thomas stared, amazed.
Indeed, you were a lanky girl then, but I respected you for the way you cared for me, he replied, shielding her gently, as if protecting her newfound honesty.
Evelyn handed him the key to the old cottage.
Your grandmother gave this to me before she passed, and I kept it. She always said youd come back, perhaps even stay, she said, eyes dropping shyly.
Keep the key with you, Thomas said. Now lets go inside.
They entered the cottage, and Thomas was struck by the neatness, as if the old lady had just stepped out. He felt gratitude toward Evelyn for preserving the home.
I must return home, but I swear Ill be back. Ill bring my mother; she needs that clean, fresh air. Ill tidy the place, and you wait for me. Ill surely return, for your bright eyes haunt my thoughts, he promised, his heart leaping.
Evelyn watched his bus depart, her smile widening. She finally understood what a womans happiness could be.
Thomas, watching the bus pull away, thought, How splendid that Evelyn has never married, how fortunate that I have come back here. He felt the urge to laugh and sing.
When the bus doors closed, he called out, My grandmother was right; I will come back and never let you go.
Evelyn walked home, her heart light, knowing at last what true happiness meant.
