The Past, Love, and a New Union
Hope and her husband, William, sat at the dining table in their cozy cottage in the village of Oakfield. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Standing on the threshold was Faith, Hope’s old schoolmate. The couple exchanged glances, their faces mirroring surprise. Faith rarely visited, and her appearance now was unexpected.
“Come in, Faith,” said Hope, masking her bewilderment. “You’ve certainly caught us off guard.”
“I won’t beat around the bush,” Faith began as she stepped inside. “I think you, like me, want your children close and happy…”
“You’re speaking in riddles,” William frowned. “Sit down. Hope’s made a proper beef stew—help yourself.”
“My son’s decided to marry,” Faith blurted, fixing them with a firm gaze.
“Blimey! And what’s that got to do with us?” William set his spoon aside, baffled.
Hope and William couldn’t fathom where Faith was heading, and the tension in the room thickened.
Hope and her daughter, Lily, walked along the village lane. Two neighbors stood by the roadside, deep in gossip. Spotting Hope, they fell silent and turned expectantly, eager for news of her trip to visit her eldest son.
After exchanging greetings, Hope and Lily paused to chat briefly about the neighbors’ affairs before sharing updates about her grandson and his mother. Just as they were about to move on, a woman passed by. Smirking, she called out loudly:
“Hello, old schoolmate! How are things? All well? Why not stay a while and chat with the neighbors? What’s the rush?”
Hope met her dark, lash-framed eyes and smiled faintly.
“Home calls. Haven’t seen William in three days—I’ve missed him.”
Faith shot her a mocking glance.
“Tch. Love comes and goes. If you ever need sympathy, you know where to find me.”
Hope only smiled in return.
“Your eyes are full of pity, but I doubt its sincerity…”
She and Lily continued on their way.
“Mum, why’s that woman so sharp?” Lily asked. “She’s always got a bone to pick.”
“That’s just her way,” Hope replied, though she knew the real reason for Faith’s bitterness.
“She needles you every time,” Lily pressed. “Yet you always know what to say. Why does she act like that?”
“You want the truth?” Hope smirked. “Faith was in love with your father, and he chose me.”
Lily froze in astonishment.
“Really?! He loved you both and picked you? Why?”
Hope laughed.
“Ask your father…”
That evening, after supper, Lily curled up beside her father on the sofa as he watched telly. Nestling against him, she suddenly asked:
“Dad, tell me—why did you choose Mum over Aunt Faith?”
William blinked at his daughter, then glanced at his wife.
“Go on, she’s curious,” Hope smiled.
“It was long ago, but I remember it like yesterday,” William began. “Before New Year’s, our school held a dance for the upperclassmen. Your mother was the Snow Maiden, and my mate Thomas—tallest lad in our year—played Father Christmas. That costume suited her perfectly! A blue dress to match her eyes, and her braid down to her waist. That’s when my heart wavered. Knew then I wanted her by my side forever.”
“But I was shy,” he admitted. “Waited for the right moment. After school, I didn’t get into university, and your mum left to study in Manchester. I’d wander the village, hoping to catch her on weekends. One day, I saw her coming from the shop. Mustered my courage, went up, and said I was off to join the army. Thought she’d brush me off—but she burst into tears.”
“‘So I won’t see you for ages?’ she said. I nearly jumped for joy. Hugged her tight and whispered, ‘Two years’ll fly. Write me, call me, yeah?’ She nodded, kissed my cheek, and ran home.”
“Those two years passed quick, thanks to her letters,” William grinned. “Soon as I was back, I asked for her hand. And here we are.”
“Dad, that’s such a beautiful love story!” Lily sighed dreamily.
“Oi, none of that wedding talk yet,” he winked.
Lily giggled and scampered off.
Faith and Hope had been classmates. Faith was sturdy, sharp-featured, while Hope was slight but tough. Hope had three brothers, and their father drilled them in exercises—she joined in, soon matching the boys on the pull-up bar.
One PE lesson, she asked to try and stunned everyone by keeping up with the lads. After that, the boys respected her, while the girls seethed behind snide remarks.
Hope stayed kind and smiling, never rising to arguments, answering barbs with proverbs or sharp wit.
By sixth form, many girls had sweethearts. Faith fancied William, slipping him notes, inviting him to dances at the club. But after his army stint, he proposed to Hope. From then on, a quiet war simmered between the women.
Faith soon married a classmate and settled near Hope, who’d had a son. Years passed. Hope bore two sons and a daughter, while Faith remained childless. Doctors found no issue, yet no baby came. Faith suspected her youth—studying in the city, an early pregnancy she didn’t keep—was to blame.
It galled her to watch Hope bear child after child, driving the wedge deeper. But then Faith conceived, bearing a son, Andrew, around the same time Hope had Lily.
The boys shared a class and became friends. When Lily was seven, Hope had her youngest.
Recently, Hope and Lily returned from visiting her eldest. On the lane, they met Faith, who couldn’t resist jabbing her old rival. Little did she know Lily, standing by her mother, would soon reshape their ties.
Andrew, Faith’s son, lingered outside after a rowdy party when he spotted Lily returning from the shops. Noticing the lads, she held her head high and strode past.
“Oi, gorgeous, no hello?” Andrew called, winking at his mates.
Lily halted, squinted, and curtsied playfully.
“How fares your lordship upon domestic down?”
She walked on, laughter erupting behind her.
“What was that?” Andrew spread his hands.
“You’ve been put in your place,” his friends cackled.
“Who is she?” he asked when the laughter died.
“Your mate Oliver’s sister—Hope’s daughter. Girl’s got fire, takes no nonsense.”
“Oliver’s sister? But she’s just a kid—”
“Not anymore. Second year at uni in Manchester.”
From then, Andrew was besotted. Lily’s green eyes haunted him. He tried chatting her up at the shop, but she only smiled and walked on. Another time, he ambushed her in the garden—until her father appeared, forcing a retreat.
He could think of nothing else. His last hope was the club dance. Andrew went, but Lily wasn’t among the girls. His mates smirked, nudging him.
“There’s Emma—and with her, I reckon, is yours,” one said.
Andrew perked up at Lily in a bright blue dress. When a slow song played, he strode over—but she refused him. He didn’t ask another, glowering as she turned down anyone bold enough to approach.
He tried again—another rejection. His mates cheered Lily on, but she stood firm. The third time, he succeeded, and they swayed together.
“Having a laugh at my expense?” he grumbled. “I came just for you. Why toy with me?”
“I was testing,” she smiled. “If you asked thrice, you’re serious.”
Her genuine smile sent his head spinning. After the dance, he walked her home. She wouldn’t stay out, wary of her father’s temper.
Next evening, Andrew vaulted the fence and hid behind the shed, waiting. Lily emerged with a bucket, tipped the water, but as she turned, he scooped her up.
“Caught you, my dove,” he whispered.
Lily wriggled free, fearing her parents might call, and fled. Andrew, elated, slunk home, resolved.
Come Sunday, Hope, William, and Lily sat down to lunch when the door knocked. There stood Faith. She’d only visited once before—for Hope’s mother’s wake—and her presence stunned them.
“Come in, Faith,” Hope said, masking unease. “Didn’t expect you. Must be important.”
“You’re right,” Faith nodded. “I’m here about our children. You love yours, same as we do, and want them close.”
“You’re talking in code,” William frowned. “Eat up—Hope’s stew’s top-notch.”
“My Andrew’s set on marrying,” Faith declared. “Says if I don’t come asking for his chosen girl, he’ll leave, and we’ll lose him.”
“Seriously? And this involves us?” William pushed his plateAndrew sighed deeply, knowing the tides of time had finally brought their families together once more.
