STARING INTO THE VOID
David and Alice got married when they had just turned nineteen. They couldn’t bear to be apart, each breath belonged to the other. It was a wild, all-consuming love. Their parents, fearing impropriety, hurried to make it official.
The wedding was splendid and unforgettable. There were all the classic touches: a doll on the wedding car bonnet, bouquets everywhere, a burst of fireworks, the reception hall ringing with shouts of “Kiss! Kiss!” Alices family couldn’t put any money towards the celebration; her parents barely scraped by, only affording the basics and, truth be told, the occasional bottle. Davids mother, Eleanor Watson, footed the bill for it all.
Knowing her full name was a mouthful, Eleanor always asked to be called just Ella.
Ella had, of course, tried hard to dissuade her son from seeing a girl with such heavy-drinking parents. But David wouldn’t listen. He insisted that none of Alice’s parents vices could touch her, that their love would triumph over any bad inheritance. Ella warned her son solemnly:
“Listen, love, apples dont grow on oak trees. I just hope your love lasts longer than a sparrows song.”
David and Alice, standing on the threshold of a cloudless future, thought their love would conquer all. The world seemed to lie at their feet, full of promise, laughter, and joy. But life has a way of writing its own tales.
As a wedding gift, Ella and her husband gave the newlyweds a flat. “Go on, enjoy it, kids!”
In the early days of marriage, all was calm and bright. Fate, it seemed, smiled at them. Alice gave birth to two daughters, Tessa and Sophie. David adored them both and relished his role as man of the house, brimming with pride.
But before five years had come and gone, Alice started mysteriously disappearing for hours, sometimes overnight. When she returned, David could clearly smell alcohol on her. He pleaded for an explanation, but at first Alice said nothing. Then she snapped and confessed she never truly loved David. What they’d had was a passing teenage fancy, nothing more.
Now, she claimed, shed found the man of her dreams and was leaving to be with himnever mind that he already had a wife and three daughters. David was floored. Pain smothered him. The woman he adored had betrayed him cruelly.
Alice vanished with her new beau to a remote little village, insisting if the heart is happy, even the dampest cottage is paradise, and without love, even a palace is cold.
The girls were left to fend for themselves. Ella, ever energetic and sharp, scooped up her granddaughters and brought them home. She and her husband doted on the girls, giving all the love they could.
David floundered after Alice left, gripped by grief. In his desperation, a friend led him into a strange religious sect. Soon, the sects elders arranged for David to marry Margaret, a widow with two sons. Later, the sect saw to their wedding by their own rules.
Davids time for his daughters vanished. Margaret filled up his days with endless tasks and grumblings. Whenever he dared to mention his own girls, Margaret would retort:
“David, their mothers aboutlet her take care of them. You can walk Oliver to school and make Williams dinner…”
David obeyed, but silently still yearned for Alice, knowing that door was closed for good.
Seven years slipped by, and then, without warning, Alice showed up at Ella’s door, clutching the hand of a little girl of about four. Ella eyed her former daughter-in-law critically.
“Well, Alice, life hasnt been kind to you. I barely recognise you. Is this your daughter?” Ella quipped sharply.
“Yes, this is Emily. Could we stay with you for a bit?” Alice asked, fidgeting nervously.
“Didnt expect guests like this. Were you thrown out?” Ella pressed.
“No, I left. I couldnt take it anymore. My husband beats me and drinks constantly,” Alice complained.
“Well, you chose him yourself. No one dragged you there. And why not go to your own parents?”
“I missed my daughters, so I came here. Surely you won’t stop me from seeing them?” Alice said, pushing her luck, knowing Ellas forgiving nature.
“Look at that, now you remember your children! Youre a real cuckoo,” Ella muttered, still seething.
Just then, the bell rang and broke the tension. In came Tessa and Sophie, both teenagers now, eyeing Alice warily. They knew she was their mother, but felt nothing for her. Resentment ran deep. Ella often lamented that her granddaughters were orphans with living parents.
Naturally, Ella let Alice and Emily stay. She couldnt put them on the street. But after a month came a new surprise: Alice disappeared again.
Later, it surfaced that Alice had run back to her beloved tormentor in the villageleaving Emily behind, cradled by Ellas kindness. Now, Ella and her husband had three granddaughters under their care. The girls cherished their grandparents, their home shaped by warmth, decency, and respect.
Time, relentless as ever, rolled on.
Ella passed away, and soon after, her husband too.
Tessa married, but never had children. Sophie lingered into old age alone, content with her independence. Emily at seventeen gave birth to a babyno one knows by whomand left to join her mother in the countryside.
Youth departed without farewell and old age entered without so much as a nod.
Alice had long lived alone by then. Her partners daughters took him to live with them in the city after he became an invalid. Resentful, they blamed Alice for his deteriorating health: Keep your nose out of our family! they hissed. In the village, Alices reputation was battered; everyone knew everythingthe gossip never stopped. She was labelled a shameless drunk, whispers following her everywhere.
As for David, he eventually escaped from Margaret and barely got out of the sect alive. Alone, he lived in his mums flat, scraping by, sleeping in a cold bed. He took in three cats, just to keep from going mad. That was the sum of his love story.
Once, happiness was pounding at David and Alices door.
