**The Return**
“Louise! Where are you? Louise!” Katie burst into the house, scanning the empty room before rushing back out onto the porch, her heels clicking and the door slamming behind her. “Where could she be?” Desperation tightened her chest as she stamped her foot in frustration.
From around the corner of the house, a petite girl stepped into view, carrying a plastic laundry basket.
“Finally! I’ve been shouting for ages!” Katie hurried down the steps toward her friend.
“Hanging the washing in the garden. What’s happened?” Louise set the basket down on the porch.
“Something *has* happened.” Katie’s dark eyes flashed beneath her thick fringe.
She had wanted to tease Louise, to draw it out, but the words tumbled out in one breathless rush:
“Charlie’s back.”
“Really?” Louise’s eyes flickered between disbelief, joy, and suspicion.
“I’m not lying. I saw him myself. His mum won’t let him out of her sight—she’s missed him too.”
“Let’s go!” Louise laughed, already darting off down the lane.
The sun poured golden warmth over the village, the river coiled lazily between the reeds, and the world seemed impossibly beautiful. But Louise saw none of it. Her heart hammered: *Charlie! Charlie!*
“Look, there he is!” Katie grabbed Louise’s arm.
Approaching in military uniform was Charlie. His eyes lit up when he saw them, and he broke into a run.
Joy surged through Louise. She flung herself forward, crashing into his arms, pressing her trembling body against his.
Katie lingered, watching them with a twist of jealousy in her gut. She had fancied Charlie too, but he’d never looked at anyone but Louise. He’d left school early to help his family—their farm sprawling, their living made from crops and livestock. Then, the army had taken him away.
*What does he see in Louise? I’m prettier. Why does she get everything?* Katie bit her lip. The treacherous sting of tears came. She turned and bolted home, flung herself onto the bed, and sobbed into her pillow.
“What’s wrong?” Her mum appeared at the door.
“Nothing,” Katie snapped.
“Jealous, are you? Think there aren’t enough lads around for you? What about Alex? He’s got a steady job, decent-looking—has his own place.”
“Mum!” Katie wailed. “I’m leaving. As soon as I finish school—I’ll go to the city.”
“Don’t be daft. Who’d want you there? No, love, home’s where you belong. You leave, and they’ll stay right where they are—”
*No.* Katie lifted her head. *I’m prettier, I’ve got the figure. Louise will swell up after kids—I just need to get between them.* Her tears dried.
“That’s more like it,” her mum said approvingly before retreating.
Not long after, Louise knocked on the door. Her face glowed with happiness—and Katie’s heart twisted again.
“Why’d you leave so soon?” Katie couldn’t hide the spite.
“Everyone’s coming over tonight to celebrate. And Charlie’s going to the dance. Oh, Katie, I’m so happy! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll stay out of your way. Besides, I’ve got nothing to wear—you know Mum won’t fork out for a new dress.”
“Take mine! The one you liked—it’s too small for me now anyway. Come on, try it on.”
Katie barely suppressed a grin. In Louise’s bedroom, she twisted before the mirror—the dress fit *perfectly*.
“You sure?”
“Of course!” Louise hugged her. “Keep it. I’ve got dinner to make.”
Katie pecked her cheek. “See you tonight!”
The village hall was alive with music and laughter. A few girls danced in the center; two lads played pool in the corner. Louise scanned the room—no Charlie.
“He’s not here. Let’s dance.” Katie twirled, arms raised, eyes flicking to the entrance.
When the music paused, she stepped outside, fanning her flushed face. The June evening was cool. Across the yard, Alex smoked in the shadows.
Then—movement. *Charlie.* She recognized his uniform.
Without hesitation, she strode to Alex, looping her arms around his neck. The white dress shone in the dusk.
“Katie?” Alex blinked.
Instead of answering, she kissed him—hard.
Charlie saw.
And left.
Back inside, Louise grabbed her. “Where’s Charlie?”
“Saw him at the door. He left.”
Louise sprinted after him, catching him outside his house.
“Wait! Why’d you go?”
“Waiting for me, were you? Planning which dress to wear for someone else?” His voice was ice. He yanked his arm free and disappeared inside.
The next morning, Louise knocked. Charlie’s mum scowled.
“Don’t know what you’ve done, but he came home in a rage. Said the wedding’s off.”
Louise cried to Katie.
“Let’s go see Aunt Mabel—she can read people. Maybe he’s got some city girl—”
“No,” Louise whispered. “I *know* him.”
They reached the old house on the edge of the village. The steps groaned underfoot. Louise froze.
“I can’t.”
Katie reached for her, but Louise wrung her hands and fled.
“Changed your mind?” A voice rasped behind her.
Mabel loomed in the doorway—apron stretched tight over her belly, wild grey hair beneath a floral scarf. Black eyes bored into Katie.
“Come in, then.”
The room smelled of incense and herbs.
“Sit.”
Katie perched on the chair’s edge.
“Your friend ran. Scared?”
“Yes, I—”
“Quiet. I see it all. Jealous, aren’t you? Thought you’d steal her happiness? It won’t last. You’ll die in ten years—they’ll still be together. But you can stop it.”
Katie shuddered, bolted outside.
Louise waited. “What did she say?”
“Nothing!” Katie’s smile was more snarl than grin.
Time passed. Charlie stayed away. Louise withered.
“Mum’s sister called—you’ll go to her after exams. You’re fading, love.”
Louise left—no visits, just calls. Mum’s news: *Charlie married Katie.*
A job at a salon, late-night training—Louise grew sleek, stylish. Meanwhile, Katie had two children. Charlie strayed. Gossip spread.
Years later, she returned.
Stepping off the bus, she inhaled the village air. Home.
Mum rushed out. “Look at you!”
Louise had changed—slim, chic, men flocking. Yet she still loved Charlie.
After supper, she walked to the river. Sunset glowed; the water lay still.
Footsteps. She turned—*Charlie.* Older, broader, but his eyes the same.
“I waited for you,” he said. “You look—city-slick.”
“It’s good to be back.”
“I’ve been miserable. You haunt me—in that dress.”
“What dress?”
“The white one. Flowers on the hem.”
“I gave it to Katie—the night you came back. It didn’t fit me anymore.”
Charlie went pale. “I saw *her*—kissing Alex. I thought it was *you*.”
Louise swayed.
“That *bitch*.”
A voice cut in. “I *knew* you’d run to her.”
Katie stood, clutching a towel, eyes burning hate.
“He’s *mine*. We’ve kids. *Leave*.”
“Katie—” Charlie stepped forward.
She staggered back. “Don’t touch me—not after *her*!” She turned, sprinting toward the houses, shrieking for the villagers.
At the old cottage, she scrambled up a rickety ladder.
“I loved you! Gave you children! And you—!”
“Get down!” Charlie lunged.
The ladder slid—
Katie lay broken, blood at her lips.
Louise left before the funeral. The whispers blamed her.
Two months later, Charlie found her.
“Forgive us. I can’t live without you.”
He looked wrecked—drinking, hollow. She took him in.
He worked construction, bought a house, brought his kids. The girl resisted; the boy called her *Mum* within months.
Katie died in ten years—just as Mabel foretold.
Louise and Charlie married. Their son was born a year later. Love healed the wounds—slowly.
