A Dream of Pretend
Edmund walked along the platform, basking in the warm spring sun. For seven years, the young man had worked away, felling trees in distant forests. Now, with a tidy sum earned and gifts bought for his mother and sister, he was finally heading home.
“Lad, where you headed? Need a lift?” came a familiar voice from behind.
“Old John! Don’t you recognise me?” Edmund grinned.
The old man shielded his brow, squinting at the stranger.
“It’s me, Edmund! Have I changed so much?”
“Ned! Blimey, what a surprise! We’d almost given up on seeing you again—couldn’t even send a word?”
“Worked in such a backwater, post barely reached us. How’s everyone? Mum, Lucy, all right? My niece must be in school by now?”
The old man lowered his gaze and sighed.
“So you don’t know… It’s bad, Ned. Real bad. Your mum’s been gone nigh on three years. Lucy took to wandering, then left little Rosie behind and vanished.”
“Rosie? Where is she?” Edmund’s face darkened.
“Lucy locked her in the house and ran off last winter. Didn’t find out till days later—my missus heard crying, went to look, and there the poor mite was at the window, begging for help. Took her to hospital, then the orphanage.”
The cart ride was silent. John let the lad wrestle with his thoughts, not pressing further. Half an hour later, the horse-drawn cart stopped before an overgrown yard. Edmund stared at the brambles, barely recognising home. Tears pricked his eyes.
“Chin up, Ned. Young and strong—you’ll set things right. Come to ours first. Rest up, have supper. Margaret’ll be chuffed,” offered the old man.
“Ta, but I’ll go home. Visit you later.”
All day, Edmund hacked at the weeds. Come evening, guests arrived—John and his wife, Margaret.
“Ned, love! Look at you, all grown! Proper handsome!” The old woman flung her arms around him. “Brought supper. We’ll eat, then help tidy up. So glad you’re back!”
“Any word on Lucy? She was always so steady…” Edmund asked over the meal.
“No, nothing. Poor lass cracked. Lost her husband, then her mum… Too much for her. What about Rosie? Fancy taking her? You’re her uncle, after all,” Margaret said.
“Dunno. Sort the house first, then visit. She’s never met me.”
A week later, Edmund went into town to see Rosie. On the way, he stopped at a toy shop. A pretty, dark-haired girl smiled warmly.
“Need help choosing?”
“Aye. Clueless about toys. A doll for a seven-year-old, and whatever else you reckon.”
Swiftly, she fetched a boxed doll and a board game.
“Here—all the girls adore these!”
“Cheers! Hope my niece likes them.”
***
Rosie met him coldly, eyeing him warily. But the gifts softened her, and finally, she smiled.
“You don’t know me,” Edmund began.
“I do. Gran and Mum showed me your photos,” she interrupted.
“Oh? What’d they say?”
“That you’re kind and good. Uncle Ned, when are we going home?” she whispered, glancing around.
The question froze him. He saw how wretched she was here.
“Rosie, are they unkind to you?”
She nodded, tears falling.
“Can’t take you yet, but I promise you’ll come home soon. All right?”
“All right.”
Edmund stormed to the orphanage director, only to hear worse.
“Blood ties aren’t enough. Are you employed?”
“Just back from work. But I’ve savings—”
“Not good enough! It’s all about paperwork. Married? Kids?”
“No.”
“Then it’s hopeless. To get custody, you need a job and a wife.”
“That takes time! Rosie wants out now!”
“Rules are rules.”
On the last bus home, Edmund slumped into his seat, stewing.
“Oi, hello!”
He blinked—it was the shop girl.
“You? What’re you doing here?”
“Heading home to Little Birmingford. Work in town, but live with Gran.”
“Well, blow me! We’re neighbours! I’m from there too.”
“Emily,” she smiled.
“Ed.”
“Did your niece like the gifts?”
He sighed. “Aye.”
Half-desperate, he spilled his woes.
“Bloody rules! Always about certificates, never feelings,” Emily fumed.
“Wait—you’re old Vera’s granddaughter?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t recall you—you were just a nipper when I left. Let’s drop formalities, eh?”
“Ed, I could get you work. Need a stockman at the shop—easy job, deliveries twice a week. Proper payslip.”
“Brilliant! Just need a wife now!” he laughed.
Next day, thanks to Emily’s word, he got the job. That afternoon, he visited Rosie again, then rode home with Emily.
“Ta. You’ve been a lifesaver.”
“Don’t thank me. Now, about that wife…”
“Hopeless. No single lasses left—all wed while I was gone.”
“There’s always a way. Think.”
“Em? You’re free, right?”
“I am. But I’m not marrying!” She flushed, pulling away.
“Not proper! Just a fake wedding, for papers. Divorce in six months.”
She gawped, torn.
“Please! I’ll pay you. Help us!”
“…Fine. No pay. I’m doing it for Rosie.”
“Hoorah! We’ll register tomorrow. She’ll be thrilled!”
Two months later, Rosie was home. That first week, Emily stayed over, terrified inspectors would expose their sham. Rosie adored her.
“Em’s just a friend, not really my wife,” Ed explained.
“So? Can’t she stay forever?”
“Nay. She’s got her gran.”
“But we’ll miss her!”
“Aye. She’ll visit.”
When Emily left, Rosie moped.
“Cheer up—we’ll build a new house. No time to mope!”
“Uncle… If Mum comes back, you won’t let her take me?”
“Never. You’re mine now.”
Time passed. Ed broke ground for the house, trying to forget Emily—but she haunted his thoughts. Rosie pined too, waiting at the gate each Saturday.
“When’s Em coming?”
“Dunno. Busy, I reckon.”
“Let’s visit her!”
“Ain’t been invited.”
“But you’re her husband! Sort of!”
Ed laughed. “Sort of.”
“Then we can go!”
“Fine. Tonight.”
Rosie dressed up, then returned with a daisy chain.
“What’s this?”
“For Em!”
“Smart lass,” Margaret chimed in. “Show some gumption! You’re a grand match.”
“She don’t want me!”
“Rubbish! You fancy her, she fancies you—plain as day!”
Blushing, Ed and Rosie set off. Emily was hanging laundry. Seeing them, she flustered.
“Look at you! Come in—supper’s soon!”
“See? Give her the flowers and propose!” Rosie hissed, nudging him.
Ed, scarlet, thrust out the chain.
“Em… Marry me?”
“We are married!”
“Properly!”
Old Vera emerged, beaming.
“About time! This ninny’s cried buckets, waiting for you!”
“Needed?” Ed gasped.
“Needed!” Rosie cheered. “I made him do it!”
Emily and Ed caught each other’s eyes and laughed.
“Clever girl,” Vera winked. “Come, help me set the table.”
“True? She made you?”
“Aye. Too scared you’d say no,” Ed admitted, pulling her close.
