“Don’t be upset, Tanya, but I won’t be living with you,” said James, his voice firm.
“Couldnt we at least try, James?” Tanyas cheeks flushed as she stared at him without blinking.
“Ive said all there is to say, Tanya.”
Emily Willow had been born when James was in primary school. He remembered her mother, Laura, the village beauty, heavily pregnant, and her proud father, George. Later, Laura would push a pram past his house, and young James would peer inside, mesmerised by the tiny miracle within.
As James grew older, so did Emily. Soon, she was dashing out of her house in a bright dress, a large ribbon tied in her blonde hair. He watched from his window across the street as she played with friends, building makeshift houses by the garden fence.
One day, Laura asked, “James, would you walk Emily to school?” He agreed, and for nearly a year, he escorted the little girl. At first, they walked in silence, but Emily soon filled the quiet with stories of her lessons. She waited patiently for him after school, sometimes walking home with his classmates. Soon, he got used to her company, waiting by the gate each morning, taking her hand as they strolled to school.
The following September, Emily shyly asked if she could walk with her friends instead. From then on, the girls walked ahead while James lingered at a distance, keeping watch. One day, a hissing goose blocked their path, flapping its wings menacingly. The girls froze in fear until James stepped between them, shooing the bird away.
The year after, James left for a secondary school in the next town, returning only on weekends. Emily seemed to forget him, passing by with downcast eyes, never greeting him. Later, he enrolled in a maritime academy, visiting home even less frequently.
“Whos that, Mum?” James paused mid-bite as a tall, graceful young woman stepped out of the Willows’ gate.
“Thats our Emily!” His mother smiled fondly.
“When did she grow up?”
“Time passes,” his mother sighed warmly. “Shes got the best of both her parents.”
Over the years, he caught glimpses of hercarrying water from the well, the wind tugging at her blouse, or dressed smartly for exams. Once, he heard her laugh as she chatted with a lanky village lad, a sight that twisted his heart.
His mother noticed his longing. “James, stop torturing yourself. Find someone in Plymouth. You know the saying’The grass is greener where you water it.'”
James visited less often, throwing himself into work at distant naval bases. He missed his fathers funeral, arriving only on the ninth day. Four years later, he was late for his mothers, too. Neighbours had arranged everything.
Returning home for good, he renovated the house, bought a modest car, and kept to himself. One evening, his old schoolteacher, Mrs. Higgins, visited with a propositionhis divorced classmate, Tanya.
“I wont marry her,” James said flatly.
“Then who will you marry?” Mrs. Higgins pressed.
The answer came when he saw Emily walking along the road, now a widow. He offered her a lift, and though she spoke little, her voice lingered in his mind long after.
That evening, he knocked on the Willows’ door.
“Laura, Ive loved Emily my whole life. Since the day you asked me to walk her to school.”
Laura sighed. “We knew. But life got in the way.”
Emily appeared in the doorway. “I was so afraid when I saw Tanya here earlier,” she whispered.
“Afraid of what?”
“I wont let anyone take you.” She rushed into his arms.
The following summer, Laura sat outside Jamess gate, rocking a pram where their long-awaited son, Alfie, slept peacefully.
**Lifes greatest joys often come to those who waitbut only if theyre brave enough to seize them when the time is right.**
