Fate intertwined two strangers
Tommy had always been invisible at school.
It wasnt that he tried to blend into the wallpaper; he was clever, with neat features that might have earned a compliment if anyone had bothered to look. Yet the Year10 class at StMarys never noticed him. The pupils formed cliques around football, music, drama, and Tommy fit into none of them. No one bullied him, but he never had a friend either.
He was a lone wolf by nature, his world limited to the cafeteria, the classroom, and the modest terraced house on the council estate. He didnt really want to mingle, either.
Then she arrived.
A new girl.
Her story was a patchwork: no parents, a weary grandmother who barely had room for her. She, too, was an orphan, but unlike Tommy she seemed withdrawn, a little wilted.
When Tom saw her, the grey world hed known suddenly burst into colour. Love, at first sight.
Hi, he said, walking over to her desk after the lesson.
He hadnt expected to speak to anyone, honestly. The other pupils slipped out of the classroom, leaving the hallway echoing.
Emily closed her textbook, lifted her eyes.
Hi, she replied.
Im Tom. And youre Emily, right? I I remember your name, he stammered, already realising that this wasnt how you usually chased girls.
Emily, she confirmed.
So how are you finding Year10? I saw you hand in a blank maths paper. Everything okay?
Emily had indeed turned in a empty sheet. She wanted to make a good impression on the new teachers, after all.
Just odd. Im a bit behind, but Ill catch up.
Could have asked someone.
Ask? That sounds easy. It isnt for me to start conversations, she said, standing up.
I get it. Im not much of a talker either. If you need anything, just shout. I know this school inside out well, Im a decent student, not that youre any less
Emily smiled.
Thus began their friendship.
Finding a purpose for his days at the drab school, Tom started not only to be Emilys friend but to help her whenever he could. He was solid at maths, literature, even managed to cover for her in P.E.
Tom, youre brilliant! shed say, leaning over her notebook. How do you get it? We spent the whole lesson on it and Im still lost. Id never finish school without you.
Emily exaggerated, but the praise warmed Tom. It was flattering, if only a little.
Its just a matter of knowing which formula to use. Youll get there soon.
But Im slower than you, or sometimes I dont get it at all.
Its not a race. The important thing is you understand. If you dont, Ill explain it again. A hundred times, if I must.
He would have gladly done a thousand, if only shed stay a little longer.
In Year11, Tom planned to confess his feelings when the moment felt right, but that moment never arrived. Emily, now more confident in her studies, began to drift toward other classmates, effortlessly making friendsa talent she hadnt known she possessed.
Tom was happy for her success, yet a sour note lingered inside him. While he plotted how to win her back, Emily leaned toward Danny, the loud, charismatic boy who always sat at the centre of the crowd.
Tom watched Emily move her seat closer to Dannys.
Emily, he asked one afternoon in the park, after Danny had left with his mates, whats going on with Danny? You didnt come to the study group yesterday, even though wed arranged to meet
Sorry, we got carried away. Danny I think Ive fallen for him.
Tom froze, then, out of friendship, asked, Is he a good guy?
He doubted, because hed known Danny since primary school.
Yeah, its easy with him.
And with me?
Emily gave him a sideways glance.
Tom, youre my best mate. Friends are always easy. With a boyfriend its always messy, but with Danny its simple. I think well make it work.
Tom understood. He would remain a friendperhaps his best friendbut nothing more.
School ended, and the carefree days of seeing Emily daily under any pretext vanished. Emily now dated Danny, yet sometimes still met Tom for a walk in the park when she remembered.
Danny and Emily married almost immediately.
Tom stood at the wedding, playing the part of the loyal friend until the very end. He smiled, congratulated them, posed for countless photographs with the newlyweds, and kept asking the question Emily never answered: why so rushed?
The answer came later. Emily was pregnantsoon. The reason hit Tom like a blow. All hope drained away.
Ah, thats why, he thought. Not romance, not infatuation, but plainspoken liferesponsibility, fatherhood, maybe a desire for stability.
Tom realised there was nothing left for him to catch. They were going to have a child.
He tried. Honestly, he tried. He dated, went on evenings out, even tried to fit in at university, but nothing compared to the ghost of Emily that lingered in his mind. No one could match the image of her, not even the Emily who now lived a wholly different life.
Emilys marriage proved not to be the paradise shed hoped for. Instead of a new happy home, she found herself in Dannys mother Ingas house. Inga made it clear who ruled the roost.
This is mine, Inga snapped when Emily reached for a candy jar.
May I have one? Emily asked.
Fine, take it.
Emily had previously lived only with her grandmother; now she was a daughterinlaw, reduced to the role of a servant.
She gave birth on schedule, yet was denied any rest.
When will you start work? You eat for two, but you wont work, Inga barked, eyes cold. Were not a restaurant or a shelter. Everyone must earn.
And what about Kolby? You wont look after him? Inga sneered. I raised my own child; now you raise yours. No problem.
She never mentioned that Dannys father spent most nights at the house, and Danny himself refused to help. He spent weekends drinking with his mates, leaving wife and mother to manage each other.
Liza, what can I do? You women understand each other better, Danny muttered, halflistening.
Emily had no one to confide in. Tom tried to keep in touch, but even his calls struggled to break through the constant presence of Inga.
Emily endured because she had nowhere else to go.
Years passed, leaving wrinkles on faces and scars in souls. Tom was now twentyfive, his career flourishing, his love life as barren as ever. He remained the same solitary figure, even more guarded.
He saw Emily rarely; a private conversation with her was as rare as a Christmas miracle. Whenever he did meet her, Inga was always nearby.
Emily! he shouted, catching her at a bus stop.
They hadnt spoken for almost a year.
Tom. Its been ages.
Its not even a year
Time just slipped away.
How are you? Hows life, work?
Emilys answer was hollow; work was just work, and she barely managed to get Kolby into daycare, with a meagre sickness benefit.
Its fine, as you can see.
Tom sensed something off. A faint bruise on her cheek, barely visible under makeup.
Did Danny do that? he asked, without thinking.
Emily flinched, then snapped, Thats none of your business, Tom.
His attempts to help fell flat.
Emily
Goodbye.
Back home, Emily brushed off her powder, the bruise now stark on her skin. She stared at her reflection, hardly recognizing herself.
Whats happened to me? she whispered.
Before she could answer, Inga stormed in.
Who were you seen with today? How many times must I cover for you in front of my son? Do you think Ill keep quiet? she hissed, gesturing at the bruise. Did you take extra pills? Who were you meeting?
Emily stammered, Tom were old school friends. We just ran into each other.
Inga scoffed, Ah, the Tom you used to run to the park with. Still the same old thing. And Danny he drinks because of you, you know.
The argument stretched on, a relentless, draining chorus.
In the cramped flat Inga had rented long before the wedding, the air felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in.
Were moving, Inga declared. To the village. City rent is too high; a house out there will be cheaper.
Finally, Danny mumbled, indifferent.
No one asked Emily.
Before leaving, Emily slipped away to say goodbye to Tom. He looked at her as if she were already a corpse.
Emily, this is a huge mistake. The move youll be stuck in the village, no escape. Where are you going?
You dont understand, Tom. They never asked me.
The choice is always yours, he insisted. Its just that it can be a hard one.
And who am I for, if not them?
For me. Stay. Come live with me. You, Kolby, me.
She didnt stay.
The village was a handful of rundown cottages, no familiar faces. Danny, even there, kept his habits. He vanished for whole days, returning home a drunken wreck. Inga, instead of easing Emilys burden, intensified her control.
Emily! Slice the pork for the sandwiches. Peel the potatoes. Then vacuum. Who will do it all?
Kolby, absorbing his father’s attitudes, grew into a mirror of Dannylazy, aimless.
Kolby, clean up after yourself! Emily snapped when he spilled tea.
Do you think Im needed here? he retorted.
Emily, crushed by his arrogance, looked to Danny for support, but he only smirked, Right, son. From a young age you must be strict.
Emily tried to reason with Kolby, to teach him better, but the next week he was back ordering her around. What could she say when the father herself ignored responsibility?
One night Inga dragged Danny home, bloodied and bruised, and ranted, Youve ruined my son! You always had a lover on the side. Think you know why he drinks? Because you scared him, because you feared divorce!
Emily could only listen.
Kolby grew up; at twenty he was a mirror of his fatherno job, wandering from one drunken night to another.
Mum, can you spare five hundred pounds? he begged. Dad said.
Emily sighed, You and your dad arent going to work, Kolby?
Show me where a decent job is, Ill apply.
The tension in the house finally snapped. During another tirade from Inga about her uselessness, Emily could no longer bear it. She fled to the city, seeking Tom.
She felt it was a revelationmaybe with Tom things would be different.
She arrived at the address she remembered from better times, stood on the bench until darkness fell, too afraid to ring the doorbell. The house belonged to Toms parents; where was Tom?
A buzzing intercom.
Mom, well be over the weekend. Whats wrong? Were taking Dad out, Tom said, holding his mothers hand, a pretty woman at his side.
Emily realised there was nothing to hope for. Some doors, once shut, never open again.
