**The Vengeance of a Wronged Woman**
Physics teacher Geoffrey Wilson, who worked at a village school in the Cotswolds, had married for the second time. He was forty-one, while his beloved wife, Emily, was just thirty. Young, beautiful, gentle, and kindshe had stolen his heart completely.
His first marriage, to Margaret, had ended after nine years. They had a daughter, Sophie, whom Geoffrey adored. But after the divorce, Margaret moved back to her hometown, cutting off all contact and preventing him from seeing Sophie.
“Geoffrey, youve got rid of that drama queennow find yourself a proper wife,” advised his close friend, Simon, the local constable.
“I should, but I havent met anyone whos really caught my eye. Plenty of women, sure, but Besides, Im afraid of making the same mistake again.”
Then, a new nurse arrived in the village. One evening, as Geoffrey walked home from school, he spotted her.
“Now, whos this?” he thought, glancing at the slender, fair-haired woman. She greeted him first, and he nodded in return.
“Simon, whos the new girl in town?” Geoffrey asked, stopping by the police station on his way.
“Who? What girl?” Simon frowned.
“The one I just sawblonde, serious-looking, quite striking.”
“Youre testing me,” Simon chuckled, rubbing his neck. “Ah, rightthats Nurse Emily. Started three days ago at the clinic. Old Mrs. Higgins finally retired.”
He grinned. “Shes a looker, mate. Dont waste timego for it.”
Getting to know Emily wasnt hard. Two days later, he “accidentally” bumped into her after her shift.
“Hello, Im Geoffrey. Teach physics at the school. Oh, and Im single,” he added with a smile. “And you? Youre the new nursewhats your marital status?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that really your business?”
“Absolutely. More than you know.”
Soon, they were dating, and before long, they had a small wedding in the village pub.
Emily had been married once before, just brieflybarely a year. She thanked God she hadnt gotten pregnant. Her ex was a drunkard whod hounded her for money, so shed quietly moved here to escape him.
On the first day of term, all the teachers gathered after the assembly to celebrate.
“Emily, love, Ill be late tonightyou know how it is. Cant skip out on the staff.”
“Fine,” she said flatly. “Just dont come home smelling of someone elses perfume again.”
He laughed nervously. “That was Margarets coat hanging over minenothing more.” He realised then that his wife had a jealous streak.
The evening was cool and pleasant. The teachers toasted to careers, children, grandchildren. Geoffrey was in high spiritsexcept for the glances from Miss Higgins, the history teacher. A woman of a certain age, never married, shed hoped to snare him herselfuntil Emily came along.
Tipsy, Geoffrey stumbled home late. The house was dark.
“Emily?” he called cheerfully, hanging his jacket. “Home in one piece!”
No answer. He wandered into the living room, then upstairs, expecting to find her reading in bed.
“There you are,” he said, spotting her sitting cross-legged under the lamplight. “Had a grand time, though I mightve had a pint too many.” He grinned.
Emily looked up, her eyes cold and distant.
“Love, whats wrong?” he asked, suddenly sober. “Normally youre smiling. Did I drink too much? Its just a bit of funfirst day back and all.”
She jerked her chin toward the living room.
“Theres a letter for you. Read it.”
Puzzled, he found an opened envelope on the table. The handwriting was elegant, the return address blank. He sank into an armchair and unfolded the note.
*Dear Geoffrey,*
*I thought you should know. Youll recognise whos writingI was your first love. I wouldnt bother you, but Im carrying your child. What happens next is up to you. I know youre married now*
His mind reeled. He couldnt think of a single time hed strayed. Maybe it was a joke? He was a devoted husbandpeople envied him and Emily.
“Emily, you cant believe this,” he said, rushing back upstairs. “Its nonsense. Someones playing games. You know I love you.”
She turned away, silent. Shed opened the letter thinking, *We have no secrets.* Now, she couldnt unsee it.
He pleaded, swore, arguedbut she wouldnt listen. Finally, exhausted, he gave up.
“Sleep in the guest room,” she said.
The next day, Geoffrey showed the letter to Simon.
“Are you having me on?” Simon groaned. “How am I supposed to trace this handwriting? Its just a bloody love note!”
“Simon, my marriage is falling apart. Emily wont believe me.”
“You want me to interrogate the whole village? Might not even be from here!”
Geoffrey sighedhe knew it was hopeless. Then Simon smirked.
“Or maybe you *did* do it and just forgot?”
“Piss off,” Geoffrey snapped, storming out.
Emily refused to speak to him. Even at school, his gloom was obvious. Only Miss Higgins lingered near him.
*What if its her?* he wondered. *Shes always fancied me.* He grabbed the staff register, hunting for her handwriting.
But when he found her notes, his hope died. Her scrawl was jagged, nothing like the elegant script in the letter.
At home, silence. He found Emily crying in the bedroom.
“Tell me, Geoffrey,” she whispered. “What did I do wrong?”
“Youre perfect. Id never betray you.”
“Then why did you?”
She wasnt hystericaljust heartbroken. Calm, wise beyond her years.
“Im leaving. Ill stay at the clinic for now.”
He couldnt stop her.
Two days later, collecting post, Geoffrey froze. Amid the letters was one in *that* handwritingaddressed to someone in Manchester.
The return address: *Lydia Johnson, 7 Willow Lane, Oakbrook.*
*Oakbrooks the next village over.* He compared it to the letteridentical script.
He sped to Oakbrook, parked near number seven, and waited.
At dusk, a heavily pregnant woman stepped out. He recognised her instantly.
*Lydia Parker.*
Years ago, shed been his studenteight years younger, infatuated. Shed chased him relentlessly, spreading rumours. Then shed vanished.
“Lydia,” he called, striding over.
She startled. “Geoffrey?”
“Congratulations on the babythough its certainly not mine. Why send that letter? Youve wrecked my marriage.”
Her smile was bitter. “You made me suffer. Now its your turn.”
“*Now?*”
“Because youre happy. I wanted you to hurt.”
“Fine. Then Ill show your husband *your* little note.”
Her face paled. “No! PleaseIm pregnant, I cant”
“Youll tell Emily the truth. *Now.*”
The next evening, the front door creaked open.
“Geoffrey?” Emily called softly. “Help me with my bag. The neighbour carried it this far.”
She smiled*his* Emily. He swept her into his arms, bringing her inside.
Outside, autumn rain fell heavy, but inside, the house was warm, brightand full of joy. They were happy again. And soon, their family would grow.
