**Diary Entry**
I sent my wife off to the countryside to lose a bit of weightor at least, thats what I told her. Truth be told, Id lost my head over my secretary and wanted some freedom.
Stephen, I dont understand what you want, said Emily.
Nothing much, I replied. Just need a bit of peace. Go to the countryside, relax, shed a few pounds. Youve let yourself go a bit lately.
I gave her figure a dismissive glance. She knew shed put on weight since the treatment but said nothing.
Where exactly is this countryside? she asked.
Somewhere very picturesque, I smiled. Youll like it.
Emily didnt argue. Maybe she needed a break too. Perhaps were just tired of each other, she thought. Let him have his space. I wont come back until he asks for me.
She started packing.
Youre not angry, are you? I added. Its just for a little whilefor your own good.
No, its fine, she said with a tight smile.
Right, Im off then, I said, kissing her cheek before leaving.
Emily sighed. Our kisses had lost their warmth a long time ago.
The drive took far longer than expected. She took two wrong turnsthe GPS was glitching, and there was no signal. Finally, a village sign appeared. The place was remote, the cottages quaint with their timber frames and carved decorations.
No modern comforts here, Emily mused.
She wasnt wrong. The house looked half-derelict. Without a car or phone, she might as well have stepped back in time. She checked her mobile. Ill call him now, she muttered, but stillno signal.
The sun was setting, and she was exhausted. If she didnt find the house, shed be sleeping in the car.
She had no desire to return to London, nor did she want to give Stephen the satisfaction of saying she couldnt handle it.
Getting out of the car, her red jacket clashed absurdly with the village greens. She chuckled.
Right then, Emily. No getting lost now, she said aloud.
The next morning, a roosters shriek jolted her awakeshed slept in the car.
Whats all the racket? she grumbled, rolling down the window.
The rooster fixed her with a beady eye before launching into another screech.
Why are you yelling? she snappedthen a broom swished past the window, and the bird fell silent.
An elderly man appeared.
Morning, love!
Emily blinked. The villagers looked straight out of a fairy tale.
Dont mind our rooster, he said. Hes harmless, just noisy as a pub on a Saturday night.
Emily laughed, the sleepiness vanishing. The old man grinned.
Staying long, or just passing through?
For a rest, however long that takes, she said.
Come inside, then. Have breakfast. Meet the missusshe bakes the best scones. Nobody to eat them these days. Grandkids visit once a year, if that
Emily didnt hesitate. She needed to know these people.
Margaretthe mans wifewas every bit the storybook grandmother: apron-clad, wrinkled, and kind. The cottage was warm and welcoming.
This place is lovely! Emily said. Why dont the children visit more?
Margaret shrugged. We tell them not to. Roads are terrible. After rain, youre stuck a week. There was a bridge once, but it collapsed fifteen years back. Were cut off. William here goes to the shop once a week. The boats barely holding up.
These scones are divine, Emily exclaimed. Doesnt anyone look after you?
Whats the point? Only fifty of us left. Used to be a thousand. Everyones gone now.
Emily frowned. And the council? Where are they?
Other side of the bridge. Detours sixty miles. Think we havent asked for help? Always the sameno money.
Emily had found her holiday project.
Tell me, wheres the council office? Or could you take me? Doesnt look like rain.
The couple exchanged glances.
You serious? You came to rest.
I am. Rest comes in many forms. And if it rains? Ive got to think of myself too.
They smiled warmly.
At the council, they said:
How long will you pester us? You make us out to be the villains. Look at the town roadswholl fund a bridge for fifty people? Find a sponsor. Someone like Harrington. Heard of him?
Emily nodded. Of course she hadHarrington owned the company Stephen worked for. He was from here originally, moved to the city as a boy.
After a sleepless night, she made her decision. She had Harringtons numberStephen had called him from her phone before. She rang as a stranger, not mentioning Stephen.
First tryno answer. Second tryHarrington listened, then burst out laughing.
Blimey, Id nearly forgotten I was born there. Hows it holding up?
Emily brightened. Lovely, peaceful place. Wonderful people. Ill send photos. Mr. Harrington, Ive tried everythingnobody will help these folks. Youre their only hope.
Ill think on it. Send the picturesbrings back memories.
For two days, Emily filmed and photographed the village. Messages were read, but no reply came. Just as she gave up, Harrington called.
Emily, could you come to my office tomorrow? Three oclock? Bring a rough plan for the work.
Of course, thank you!
Funny, isnt it? Lifes a racenever time to stop and dream.
I understand. But you should visit. Ill be there.
Hanging up, she realisedit was Stephens office. She smiled, imagining the shock.
She arrived early, an hour to spare. Parking the car, she headed to Stephens office. His secretary wasnt there. Hearing voices from the break room, she approachedand found Stephen and his secretary.
At the sight of her, they froze. Stephen leapt up, fumbling with his trousers.
Emilywhat are you doing here?
She fled, colliding with Harrington in the hall. Thrusting documents at him, she ran out, tears streaming. She barely recalled the drive back.
The next morning, a knock woke her. Harrington stood at the door with a group.
Morning, Emily. Saw you werent up for talking yesterday, so I came myself. Fancy a cuppa?
Of course, come in.
Not a word about last night. Over tea, villagers gathered outside. Harrington peered out.
Blimey, quite the crowd. Emily, isnt that old William?
She smiled. It is.
Thirty years ago, he was already a granddad, and Margaret fed us all her scones.
He studied Emily. About your husband do you forgive him?
She thought, then smiled. No. And Im grateful it happened this way.
Harrington was silent. Emily stood, gazing around.
If the bridge is rebuilt, this place could be something special. Restore the cottages, create retreats. The countrysides untouched. But nobody cares. And if I didnt want to go back
Harrington watched her, impressed. She was sharp, determined. Hed never noticed her beforebut now he saw her differently.
Emily, can I visit again?
She met his gaze. Whenever you like.
The bridge construction raced ahead. Villagers thanked Emily, young people returned. Harrington visited often.
Stephen called repeatedly, but Emily ignored him, eventually blocking his number.
At dawn, a knock came. Half-asleep, she opened itStephen stood there.
Emily, Ive come to take you home. Enough sulking. Im sorry.
She laughed. Thats it? Sorry?
Fine. Get readywere leaving. You cant throw me out. Its not your house.
Oh, but I can, she said.
The door creaked shut. Harrington appeared in casual clothes.
This house was bought with my companys funds. Did you take me for a fool, Stephen? Theres an audit at the officeyouve got questions to answer. As for Emily, shes got nothing to worry about.
Stephens eyes bulged. Harrington put an arm around Emily.
Shes my fiancée. Leave. Divorce papers are already filed.
They married in the village. Harrington admitted hed fallen in love with the place again. The bridge was rebuilt, the road fixed, a shop opened. Villagers bought cottages as holiday homes. Emily and Harrington renovated theirsfor when their children would visit.
**Lesson learned:** Sometimes losing the life you thought you wanted leads
