“You’re no longer my daughter,” Mum snapped, her voice icy. “Who is he? Where’s he from? I don’t even know. You should be ashamed. Move into Grans cottage and live like an adult. Face the consequences of what youve done.”
“Olive, did you hear?” Maisie flopped onto the sofa, grinning. “Some blokes from the city are here to help with the harvest. Fancy going to the pub tonight?”
“Maisie, are you serious?” Olive laughed, shaking her head. “What about little Alfie? Should I bring him along?”
“Couldnt Auntie Louise watch him?” Maisie suggested carefully.
Olive waved her off. “Dont be daft. Shes barely forgiven me for having him. She wanted me to marry Andrew, remember? Instead, I went off to uni, failed my exams, and came back expecting. Took her a year to speak to me again. Go without memaybe youll find someone nice.”
Maisie sighed. “Fine, Ill take Tanya. Ill tell you everything tomorrow.”
That night, Olive tucked Alfie into bed and stepped onto the porch. The distant thump of music from the pub carried on the wind. Wrapped in her shawl, she imagined them all laughing and dancingMaisie in that ridiculous leopard-print dress she loved, looking more like a stuffed toy than a woman. Olive smiled faintly, then sighed and went to bed.
At dawn, Maisie burst in, just as Olives mum arrived for a visit. Olive pressed a finger to her lips, but Maisie never knew when to stop.
“Bloody shame you werent there! Lads from the cityproper handsome, one even walked me home. His names William. Funny chap. Weve got a date today,” she blurted.
Mums lips thinned. “Married, I suppose?”
Maisie shrugged. “Didnt check his ring finger. Even if he is, at least itll be a story.”
“Girls these days,” Mum muttered. “Andrews a decent lad. My Olive missed her chance, but you, Maisieyou could still turn his head.”
Maisie scoffed. “Andrew? No thanks. And his mothers worse! Id rather stay single.”
She turned back to Olive. “There was this bloke last nightgorgeous. All the girls were gawping. But he just stood with his mates, didnt dance with anyone. Then he left.”
Then, shockingly, Auntie Louise spoke up.
“You should go next time, Olive. Ill mind Alfie. Might meet someone steadysomeone reliable. Alfie needs a father. Just steer clear of married men. They sniff out lonely women like bloodhounds. Understood?”
Olives heart leapt. She kissed Mums cheek, earning a grumble. “Oh, stop fussing, you soft thing.”
That Friday, Olive stood in her best dress, laughing with friends. How long had it been since shed done something just for fun?
“Look! Hes back,” someone whispered.
Olive glanced overand froze. Her legs trembled. “II think Ill go. Alfie might be crying.”
Maisie gawped. “Olive! First night out in ages, and youre leaving? You havent even danced!”
But Olive was firm. “Your Williams coming over. Youll be fine.” She hurried toward the dooronly for a hand to catch hers.
“Care to dance?”
Olive didnt look up. “I dont dance.”
“One dance. Please.”
Reluctantly, she turnedand her heart stopped. It was him. The man whod changed everything. And he didnt recognise her.
Breathe.
“One dance,” she agreed.
He spun her effortlessly. “Husband waiting at home?”
“Im not married.”
His eyes twinkled. “So Ive got a chance?”
Olive pulled away. “Dont count on it.” She fled into the night, tears burning. Shed loved him instantly, remembered him foreverand he didnt even know her.
Theyd met on a train. Shed been heartbroken after failing uni exams; hed been visiting family. Seeing her sadness, hed joked, “Names Max. Mum calls me Maxie, my niece says Muffin. Take your pick.”
Shed smiled. “Muffins ridiculous enough.”
Hed offered his hand. “And you are?”
“Olive.”
“Fit for a queen,” hed said.
By journeys end, shed confessed her failure. “Mumll never let me forget it.”
“Study over winter and try again,” hed urged.
Shed brightened. “Youre right! Thank you.”
Then hed kissed herslow, sweet, dizzying. After, hed whispered, “Ill find you.”
But he hadnt even asked where she lived.
Then came the pregnancy. Mums rage. “Youre no daughter of mine.”
Olive had worked at the library until her due date. Maisie had met her at the hospitalMum hadnt come. Not until Alfie was five months old.
“Not our stock,” Mum had sniffed. Yet shed returned often, bearing gifts.
That morning, Mum frowned at Olives early return. “Pub that bad?”
“Alfie awake?”
“Asleep. Since youre back, Ill head home.”
Olive dozed fitfully, waking to feed Alfie. “Eat your porridge, love. Youll need strengthlike your dad.”
“Talking about me? Flattering. And this must be my son.”
Olive dropped the spoon. Max stood in the doorway.
“Youhow?”
“I told you Id find you,” he said, grinning. “Didnt realise Id be a dad too. Forgot to ask where you livedgot a bit carried away. Guess fate stepped in.” He made a silly face at Alfie, who giggled.
When Mum arrived, she took one look at Olives glow, at Max bouncing Alfie on his shoulders, and said, “This him?”
Olive nodded, beaming.
Mum marched over. “Louise Thompson. Youll be a good man to them, or youll answer to me.”
Max shook her hand solemnly. “Understood.”
And as Alfies laughter filled the room, Olive knewsome second chances are worth the wait. Love, when true, finds its way home.
