John and Mary: A Tale of Choices, Love and Rural Dreams John never wanted to leave his English village for the city. He loved the open fields, the winding river and the woods, and enjoyed the company of fellow villagers. He decided to become a farmer, keeping pigs and selling the meat, hoping his business would grow and that he’d eventually expand. He dreamed of building a big house; he already had a car, though it was modest and old, and he had invested the money from selling his grandmother’s cottage into the farm. But there was another cherished dream – to marry Mary and make her the lady of his future home. They were already dating. Mary knew John’s business wasn’t booming yet, there was no big money, and the house project had only just begun. Mary was a beauty, but she never intended to make her own way in life. “What’s the point of being beautiful if my husband doesn’t provide for me?” she told her friends. “I just need to find the right man who’ll take care of everything. My looks are worth a lot.” “John’s building his house, and he’s got a car too,” said her friend Lucy, “He just needs a bit of time, he’ll get things going.” “But I want it all and I want it now!” Mary pouted. “Who knows how long John will take to succeed? He’s got no real money yet.” John loved Mary, but he sensed her feelings weren’t as strong as he hoped, though he clung to the belief that she’d love him in time. Life might have trundled along, but everything changed when Tom arrived in the village. Tom was in town on holiday with a friend, staying with his gran. At first, Tom looked down on the local girls, hoping for excitement at the village hall, but he soon became bewitched by Mary’s beauty. Mary at first ignored the outsider, but when she learned Tom came from a wealthy family—his father was an important city councillor—she quickly shifted her attention to him. Tom was older and more worldly, smooth-talking and generous with flowers. The bouquets he gave her weren’t sold anywhere in the village; he ordered them specially, which Mary noticed and appreciated. John was perturbed when Mary started accepting Tom’s flowers. “Don’t take his flowers! Why are you winding me up?” he said, but Mary just laughed. “Don’t be silly, it’s only flowers. What’s the harm?” John confronted Tom: “Stop giving flowers to Mary. She’s my girl. I’ve plans for her.” Tom didn’t back down, and soon a fight broke out. Luckily, John’s mates intervened before it got out of hand. But things turned sour between John and Mary; she began to avoid him, and John—hurt—kept his distance. Mary realised Tom was only in the village for a month before he’d return to the city. “I need to act fast, catch Tom’s attention, and head to the city with him. There’s nothing for me here in the village,” she plotted. It wasn’t hard to lure Tom to her house. Her parents were off selling at the market. Mary timed it so that her parents would catch them together. Catching them in bed, her strict father was furious: “What’s all this then?” he demanded. Mary looked down while Tom shifted nervously. “Well. Tom, if you’ve taken advantage of our daughter, you’ll do the right thing by her. You’ll marry her or else,” her father declared, hustling Tom into the next room. No one knows what was said, but the very next day Mary and Tom filed for a wedding license, driven by her father, while her mother began preparing them to move to the city. The news swept the village. John was devastated, though he tried not to show it. Inwardly, Tom berated himself. “Why did I come here? I let myself get ensnared by a crafty country girl.” Mary, meanwhile, looked forward to city life and the happiness—and luxury—she hoped to find. “I’ll love him, have his children, and he’ll thank his stars it worked out this way. I only wonder how his parents will take to me,” she thought. But Tom’s parents were delighted: their son had finally brought home a pretty and down-to-earth village girl, not another city gold-digger. Mary quickly won them over, proving herself a capable housekeeper. They all lived together in a large four-bedroom flat, and Mary found herself comfortable and warmly welcomed. Even Tom came to see Mary wasn’t as cunning as he’d suspected. “Sure, she trapped me into marriage, but I think she genuinely believes we’ll be happy,” he thought, even though he himself couldn’t see it working. Tom, however, looked forward to a return to bachelor fun after the wedding—he had plenty of girlfriends in town. But then, over dinner with his parents, Mary dropped a surprise: “I’m pregnant—we’re going to have a baby.” “Congratulations, Mary! We’ve long hoped for grandchildren,” gushed Tom’s mother. Tom realised there was no point protesting; it was too late. The wedding went ahead. Tom’s parents gifted the newlyweds a fully furnished flat. But Mary noticed Tom was less than thrilled to be a father. “He’ll change once the baby arrives. He’ll see how wonderful it is,” Mary hoped, blind to the trouble brewing in Tom’s heart. After the wedding, Tom was rarely home, always away on ‘business trips’. Mary, not knowing exactly what Tom did for work, believed his stories. She never complained to his parents about his constant absences. Instead, she waited for him dutifully, making nice meals and keeping the home tidy—though she missed her own village and old friends, and, more and more, found herself thinking of John. She began to doubt her choices. When asked if he loved her, Tom dodged the question. Tom’s mother noticed Mary’s gloom and guessed the truth about her son. The birth of their son was a joy for the whole family; Tom was briefly touched, but nappies and sleepless nights soon made him irritable. Mary, exhausted, could no longer keep the house perfectly. Tom wanted to escape. Worse, he found that now he was married, most of his flings wanted nothing to do with him. He never spoke about Mary to anyone. She had no qualifications, came from the country, and he worried about her working: “Once the boy is older, what can she do? Cleaner? Stallholder? That’d hurt the family reputation. I suppose I’d be better off just paying child support.” Tom had a regular lover, Kate, who had her own place and money and wanted no children. He felt at ease with her and moaned about his life: “Kate, you should see the state of my house—the chaos! I don’t love my wife, I can’t stand the kid. Mary may be pretty but she’s so country. Honestly, I’m fed up. How can I take her anywhere when she’s never seen anything outside her village and cows?” Mary began to realise her marriage was never going to be what she’d hoped. She suspected Tom had someone else; he returned home smelling of unfamiliar perfumes and smudged with lipstick, snapping at her and their son, sometimes even raising a hand. She rang her mother to complain, but her mother responded: “We didn’t make you marry Tom. We thought you’d marry John. You chose yourself, so make your bed and lie in it. When you’re finished, you can come home, but only if you’re ready to stay.” Mary was left crushed. One evening, she checked Tom’s phone while he was asleep and found shocking messages between him and Kate. She told Tom’s mother-in-law, who warned her: “If you think of divorcing Tom, remember: we’ll go to court for the child. You know what connections my husband has. Tom’s the biological father, he’s well-off and the flat is legally his. What can you give the child—no education, no job, no means? Just think.” One night, as her son fussed with a fever and new teeth, Tom grew impatient with the crying. Kate texted, waiting for him. “Give them the sleeping pills I gave you—they’ll drop off quick,” Kate wrote. Mary read the message and panicked. What if Tom really gave them the pills? What if he poisoned them? While Tom showered, Mary rang John and explained everything. “I’ll come and get you, take you back home,” he said. “Don’t worry about Tom’s family—they’re just scaring you. Just stay calm, settle your son and ring me back when Tom leaves, I’ll be nearby.” Mary managed to get her son to sleep, pretended to sleep herself, and when Tom checked and then left, she quickly packed a bag and called John. He whisked her away to his house. Tom only returned the next evening to an empty flat. He rang his parents. “No, Tom, Mary and the baby haven’t been here. Has she left you?” his mother feigned concern. “Should I call the police?” “No, Mum. Don’t call. In fact, I’m relieved she’s gone. She and the boy have worn me out. Let her do as she likes. Please, Mum,” he pleaded until she agreed. Time passed. Mary divorced Tom and married John. They lived happily in John’s big house, soon expecting another child—at last, Mary realised that her true happiness was with John.

Author Emily TaylorReading 9 minViews 1

July 22nd

Ive always known I could never leave my village. The rolling hills, winding rivers, endless fields, and woods these are in my blood. I love the people here too, their straightforward ways and friendly faces. So, when it came time to decide my future, moving off to the city never appealed. Instead, I started a small farm, pig breeding to be exact, selling pork to the local butchers, dreaming that one day, if luck smiled, I could grow the business. I imagined a big house, surrounded by green, a decent car (well, at the moment its a beaten up old Ford), and perhaps, most importantly, I wanted to win the heart of Mary and make her the lady of my own home. Id used the money from selling my late grans cottage to get the farm going.

Mary and I had been seeing each other for a bit. She knew my business was just scraping by, my house just a shell of cinder blocks and plans rather than reality. And she was lovely. Strikingly so. But Mary was easy with herself; her beauty was something she counted on, not something she worked for.

Im beautiful for a reason, shed giggle to her friends, Let my husband sort the worries thats what Im good for. I just need to pick one wholl take care of me properly. Beauty like mine isnt for nothing.

Johns building a house, and hes got a motor not much, but you cant expect it all at once! Lucy, her mate from school, used to tell her.

But I want everything now! Mary would pout, lips sticking out. Hes got no money, not really.

I loved Mary, even if it didnt always feel she cared as much. Still, I hoped shed come to it, in time. But then Tom came into the picture. He arrived on holiday with a mate to stay with his gran, city set through and through. He looked down his nose at village life you could tell he was bored stiff at the local pub, twirling around a pint, until Mary walked in.

At first, Mary paid scant attention, but as soon as she discovered that Toms father was some big timer at the council in London and they had money, she switched in a heartbeat. Tom, himself, was a smooth talker, years older than us, casually confident. He brought her bouquets the kind of flowers youd only find on order from the city, never from our little shop. Mary took note.

I watched her collecting flowers and tried not to mind, but the anger stuck.

Dont take flowers from him, you know it bothers me, I told her. But shed only laugh, Its just flowers, dont fuss.

I confronted Tom. Leave Mary alone, shes my girl, and Im serious about her.

He snorted and walked away, fists flying soon after my mates had to split us. Things with Mary buckled after that. She avoided me, and I took it badly. But she was clever. Tom was only visiting a month, she had to move quick. Need to do something to hook him, she schemed. Theres nothing for me here, its the city or nothing.

Getting Tom home alone wasnt hard her parents in town for the market made it simple. She timed it just so her folks would come home and find them together in her room, both flustered and dishevelled. Her father, stern old George, nearly exploded.

What the devil is going on here? he boomed.

Mary blushed, and Tom looked guilty. Well then, Tom, youll marry our Mary or Ill see to it you regret coming to this village, do you hear me? Come on into the sitting room, lets have a word.

Whatever was said in that room stayed there, but next thing you know, Tom and Mary were off to give notice at the registry office, her mother bustling about, excited for their move to London. News like that didnt stay quiet in a village. I was heartbroken, but tried to keep my chin up.

Tom regretted it instantly. Whyd I ever come here? he brooded. That village girls got more cunning than she lets on.

But Mary had her sights set on the city, on happiness, on the bright lights.

Itll be fine, she told herself, Ill be a loving wife, give him children. Hell be glad of me in the end. I do wonder, though, how his parents will take to me

To everyones surprise, Toms parents were pleased. His mother, Anna, was tired of all the city girls hed dragged home shallow, obsessed with money. Mary, they thought, would be a breath of fresh air. Come in, love, dont be shy, treat it like your home, Anna said with a wide smile, and even Mr. Michael grinned.

Mary put her best foot forward. Their London flat was huge, four bedrooms, plenty of space. She got on well with Toms parents, and Tom began to see she wasnt as calculating as hed thought. She got the wedding she wanted, but maybe she really does want this to work, he admitted to himself.

Tom looked forward to regaining his freedom once things settled why not, he had plenty of friends in the city. But suddenly, at dinner, Mary dropped the bombshell.

Im expecting, she announced softly. Were going to have a baby.

Annas eyes lit up. Wonderful news, Mary! Weve long wished for a grandchild. Tom, meanwhile, kept quiet. What could he say? Too late for regrets.

The wedding was grand. Toms parents gifted them their own flat, fully furnished. But after, Mary could see Tom was less than thrilled about impending fatherhood.

Hell change, once the baby comes, she thought, hell see what a joy it is.

Drifting through the days, Tom began disappearing constantly, claiming his job meant never-ending business trips. Mary, trusting, never questioned him. She kept the place pristine, cooked hearty meals, and waited. But she missed the countryside, her old life, and, unexpectedly, found herself thinking more of me than ever.

Now, doubt crept in. She wondered if her choice was right. Whenever she asked if Tom loved her, he deflected. Anna saw how forlorn Mary was, quietly realising her son was falling far short as a husband.

The birth of their son brought real joy, even to Tom, for a fleeting moment. But sleepless nights, crying, endless nappies wore on him. Mary, frazzled, struggled to keep up. Tom craved escape.

Soon, he noticed his old flames lost interest: Married men arent much use to anyone. He never spoke of his home life to his friends. How would Mary manage in London? No qualifications Shed struggle for a job, and I cant have my wife as a cleaner or street vendor it would ruin the family name. Better if I just bear the burden. Divorce payouts would be cheaper than this madness.

Tom found solace elsewhere, with Cathy her own place, cash to burn, and no desire for children. He could relax with her, weekends away, parties with no consequence.

If only you knew, Cath, what hell home is, hed moan. I dont love my wife, the boy drives me mad. Mary may be pretty, but shes pure village what would she do at a city event, never seen anything but cows and fields.

Mary started realising the life shed imagined with Tom was crumbling. She suspected another woman the different perfume, lipstick marks, Toms short temper. Her son ignored, she bore the brunt of his moods, sometimes his anger even turned physical.

One day, she called her mother, desperate for comfort.

We never forced you to marry Tom, was her mums tough reply. We thought youd wed John, but you made your choice. Now youll have to live with it, and when youve had enough, you can come home but dont expect anything.

Mary was crushed. One restless night, curiosity got the better of her, and she looked through Toms messages while he slept. What she read between him and Cathy left her speechless. She confided in Anna, her mother-in-law, but Anna was cool:

If youre thinking divorce, know this: youll lose your son. With connections and wealth, my husband can make sure of it. Toms not perfect, but hes your boys father, and he can provide him a real future. What can you offer, with no job or money?

One evening, with the baby teething and feverish, Cathy messaged Tom and asked when he was coming round. When the boys asleep and Marys out cold, Ill come, he replied. Cathy wrote back: Give them the sleeping pills I gave you, thatll do the trick.

Mary read the text and froze. Fear gripped her. What if he honestly planned to drug them? Worse?

In panic, she rang me John. I listened. Stay calm, Mary. Try to get the boy to sleep yourself. When Tom leaves, ring me. Ill come round and pick you up.

When Tom peeked in, both she and the boy pretended to sleep. Once he left, Mary packed quickly, phoned me. I was there in minutes, took her and the baby back to my mums.

Tom turned up the next day and found the flat empty. He called his mother, frantic.

No, Tom, Marys not here. Has she run away? Ill ring the police! said Anna.

Dont, Mum, Tom interrupted. Honestly, its a relief. Im better off.

Time moved on. Mary and I married, once her divorce was through. We lived in a big house, happier with every passing week, soon expecting another child. At last, Mary realised happiness had always been here, right at home with me.