William was finishing his degree at Oxford when, out of the blue, he had the notion to marry his first school romance, Charlotte. Charlotte was graceful, but besides her charm, she possessed kindness and wit. She too was wrapping up her dissertation, the two agreeing theyd wed as soon as both finished their studies.
William decided to share his plans with his mother, but she wasnt pleased. His mother declared that he must marry Eleanor, the girl next door, or no-one at all. She demanded: Which matters more to you, your future or your heart? His mother often imagined William rising to grand success.
Eleanor came from old money, and for years she harboured a longing for William, while he lingered in his attachment to Charlotte, a girl with neither family nor standing. Charlottes mother was rumoured to be troublesome What would the neighbours think?
I dont want another daughter-in-law, but do as you wish! his mother snapped.
William pleaded with his mother, but she was immovable, threatening to put a curse on him if he married Charlotte. Petrified, he faltered. He and Charlotte stayed together for half a year, but gradually their love faded like mist.
In the end, he married Eleanor. She was genuinely smitten, yet they avoided a public wedding William didnt want Charlotte to ever stumble upon their marriage photos. So their life began, drifting in a sprawling manor. His parents nudged him up the ranks at work. Still, happiness eluded him.
He resisted the idea of having children. When Eleanor realised she couldnt sway him, she sought a divorce. By then William was in his mid-forties; Eleanor was thirty-eight. She later had a child and delight finally touched her life.
William continued longing for Charlotte, trying to find her, but she was nowhere to be found. It was as if shed melted away in the rain. One day, an old friend told him shed hastily married a stranger after their split, and that man proved utterly cruel.
After that, William retreated into his childhood flat and began to drink away the days. He gazed at Charlottes photograph, unable to forgive his mother. The story hung about him like fog, unresolved and strange, with all its sorrow blending into the pale English light.
