Hope and her husband Albert sat at the dining table in their cozy cottage in the village of Willowbrook. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Standing on the threshold was Hope’s old schoolmate, Faith. The hosts exchanged glances, their faces reflecting surprise. Faith rarely visited, and her arrival was unexpected.
“Come in, Faith,” said Hope, masking her confusion. “I must admit, you’ve taken us by surprise.”
“I won’t beat around the bush,” Faith began, stepping inside. “I reckon you, like me, want your children close and happy…”
“You’re speaking in riddles,” Albert frowned. “Sit down. Hope’s made a lovely stew—help yourself.”
“My son’s decided to marry,” Faith blurted, eyes fixed on them with determination.
“Blimey! And what’s that to do with us?” Albert set his spoon down, puzzled.
Hope and Albert couldn’t fathom their guest’s angle, and the room grew tense.
Hope and her daughter Lillian strolled down the village lane. Two neighbors stood by the roadside, deep in chatter. Spotting Hope, they fell silent and turned, eager for news of her trip to visit her eldest son.
After exchanging pleasantries, Hope and Lillian paused, asked after the neighbors, and briefly shared updates about her grandson and his mother. Just as they moved to leave, a woman passed by. Smiling broadly, she called out,
“Hello, old classmate! How are you? Everything well? No time for a natter with the neighbors?”
Hope met her dark, long-lashed eyes and replied lightly,
“I’m hurrying home. Haven’t seen Albert in three days—I’ve missed him.”
Faith gave her a mocking once-over.
“Tch. Love comes and goes. If you ever need sympathy, you know where to find me.”
Hope merely smiled.
“Your eyes are full of pity, but I doubt its sincerity…”
She and Lillian walked on.
“Mum, why’s that woman so sharp?” Lillian asked. “She always seems cross about something.”
“That’s just her way,” Hope answered, though she knew the real reason for Faith’s bitterness.
“She always tries to needle you,” Lillian pressed. “Yet you always know what to say. Why does she act like that?”
“Want the truth?” Hope chuckled. “Faith was in love with your father, but he chose me.”
Lillian froze.
“Really?! He loved you both and picked you? Why?”
Hope laughed.
“Ask your father…”
That evening, after supper, Lillian curled up beside her father on the sofa as he watched telly. Nestling close, she suddenly asked,
“Dad, tell me—why did you choose Mum over Aunt Faith?”
Albert glanced at his daughter, then at his wife.
“Go on, love. She’s curious,” Hope smiled.
“It was long ago, but I remember it like yesterday,” Albert began. “Before Christmas, the school held a dance for the upper years. Your mum played the Snow Queen, and Father Christmas was my mate Jack, the tallest in our class. That costume suited her! A blue dress to match her eyes, her hair in a braid down to her waist. That’s when my heart skipped. I knew I wanted her by my side forever.”
“But I was shy,” he admitted. “Waited for the right moment. After school, I didn’t get into college, and your mum went off to study in the city. I’d wander the village, hoping to spot her when she visited weekends. One day, I saw her coming from the shops. Plucked up courage, went over, and said I was joining the army. Thought she’d shrug me off—but she burst into tears.”
“‘So I won’t see you for ages?’ she said. I nearly jumped for joy. Held her close and whispered, ‘Two years’ll fly. Write me, call me, yeah?’ She nodded, kissed my cheek, and ran home.”
“The army flew by thanks to her letters,” Albert grinned. “Came back, proposed straight away, and we wed.”
“Dad, you and Mum have the most beautiful love story!” Lillian sighed dreamily.
“Oi, too early for you to be wedding-minded,” he winked.
Lillian giggled and dashed off.
Faith and Hope had been classmates. Faith was sturdy, sharp-featured, while Hope was petite but tough. Hope had three brothers, and their father drilled them in fitness. She trained with them, soon matching the lads at pull-ups.
One P.E. lesson, she asked to try and stunned everyone by outperforming the boys. After that, the lads respected her, while the girls seethed, masking envy with sneers.
Hope was always kind, never quarreled, and met barbs with proverbs or wit.
By sixth form, many girls had suitors. Faith fancied Albert, wrote him notes, asked him to dances. But after the army, he proposed to Hope. From then, a quiet feud simmered between the women.
Faith soon wed a classmate and settled near Hope, who’d had a son. Years passed. Hope bore two sons and a daughter, while Faith remained childless. Doctors found no issue, but no babies came. Faith wondered if her youth was to blame—a pregnancy in her city student days, ended too soon.
It pained her to watch Hope’s family grow, driving them further apart. Then, at last, Faith conceived, bearing a son, Andrew, nearly alongside Hope’s fourth—Lillian.
The boys became schoolmates and friends. When Lillian was seven, Hope had her youngest girl.
Recently, Hope and Lillian returned from visiting her eldest. On the lane, they met Faith, who couldn’t resist a dig at her old rival. Little did she know, Lillian, standing by, would soon change everything.
Andrew, Faith’s son, was outside after a raucous party when he spotted Lillian returning from the shops. Noticing the lads, she held her head high and strode past.
“Oi, gorgeous, no hello?” Andrew called, winking at his mates.
Lillian halted, squinted, and curtsied playfully.
“How fares your lordship upon his pillows?”
She walked on as laughter erupted behind her.
“What was that?” Andrew spread his hands.
“You’ve been put in your place,” his friends cackled.
“Who is she?” he asked when they’d calmed.
“Your mate Sam’s sister—Hope’s daughter. Firecracker, that one. Takes no lip.”
“Sam’s sister? But she’s just a kid—”
“Not anymore. Second year at uni in the city.”
From then, Andrew was besotted. Lillian’s green eyes haunted him. He tried talking to her at the shops, but she only smiled and walked on. Another time, he waited by the garden, but her father appeared, sending him off.
He could think of nothing else. His last hope was the village dance. Andrew went, but Lillian wasn’t among the girls. His mates nudged him.
“There’s Olivia—and with her, I reckon, is yours.”
Andrew brightened, spotting Lillian in a vivid blue dress. When a slow song played, he strode over—but she refused. He didn’t ask another, glowering as he watched if she’d choose someone. None dared approach.
He tried again—another refusal. His mates egged her on, but she stood firm. On his third attempt, she relented, and they swayed together.
“Having a laugh at my expense?” he muttered. “I came here for you. Why play with my feelings?”
“I was testing you,” she smiled. “If you asked thrice, you’re serious.”
Her smile left him dizzy. After, he walked her home. She wouldn’t stay out, fearing her father’s wrath.
Next evening, Andrew hopped the fence and hid by the shed, waiting. Lillian appeared with a bucket, emptied it, and turned to leave—but he swept her up.
“Caught you, my dove,” he whispered.
She wriggled free, wary of her parents calling, and fled. Andrew, heart pounding, went home resolved.
That Sunday, as Hope, Albert, and Lillian sat to lunch, someone knocked. Faith stood there. She’d only visited once before, for Hope’s mother’s wake, and her return stunned them.
“Come in, Faith,” Hope said, masking unease. “We weren’t expecting you. Must be important.”
“It is,” Faith nodded. “I’ve come about our children. You love yours, same as we do, and want them happy.”
“You’re speaking in code,” Albert frowned. “Eat up—Hope’s stew’s top-notch.”
“My Andrew’s set on marrying,” Faith declared. “Says if I don’t arrange it, he’ll leave, and we’ll lose him.”
“Seriously? And we’re involved how?” Albert pushed his plate aside.
“He’s chosen your Lillian,” Faith said bluntly.
Lillian gasped, bolted up, and fled. Albert gaped, bread halfway to his mouth.
“What? My daughter? You’re here to—?”
“I”Very well,” Albert finally sighed, lowering his voice as he met Faith’s steady gaze, “but if that lad so much as frowns at my Lillian, he’ll answer to me.”
