Shes too old for me. Shes already got a kid!
Cut it off, Mum, or Ill do it myself with the scissors! Emily sobs as she perches on the kitchen stool. Waves of golden hair tumble down her back, the tips brushing the seat. So what, am I meant to stay single all my life now because of my brother?
Susan Westbrook looks at her husband, but doesnt reach for the scissors.
Dont be silly, says Michael, taking the scissors from her hand. Youre getting into a right state, love. I never said you couldnt get married at alljust that you should find someone decent first, then make your choice.
Whats there to decide, Dad? I already know exactly what I want.
Youre only eighteen, Emily. Still young.
Ive got my ID, havent I? Means I can do what I like. If you wont cut my hair, Ill chop my own braid off.
Susie, tell her something, will you? Shes being daft young to think like this.
Her mum only smiles, lost in nostalgia. She leans against the worktop in her well-worn cotton dressing gown, one hand propping up her cheek. Her own Michael had proposed straight after their school leavers party, and by autumn they were marriedshed already been expecting their son.
Michael just sees his daughter as he always has: his laughing little Emily, bunches in her hair, bouncing along on her way to her first day at school. When did she grow up?
He waves a hand and heads out into the garden.
Dont wind your dad up. Hes got enough on his plate with the farm, and youre there fussing about in your sundress! At least get your A-levels first, for goodness sake.
Easy for you to say, youre not about to lose your boyfriend to someone else. What am I supposed to do if they take my Oliver away from me?
Youll find someone elsesomeone reliable and honest. If your Oliver lets himself get led around by other girls, maybe hes not worth your time.
Emily stays put on the stool, eyes lost in the distance.
The Westbrooks have two children: eldest son, James, and youngest, Emily. Theres a fair gapseven years, which makes for a distance between brother and sister. James still sees her as his kid sister, hardly takes her views on life or on boyfriends seriously.
James himself seems stuck. None of the local girls have captured his heart, but he barely has timehe works the family farm with his dad, tending to cows, chickens, pigs, rabbits, and the huge vegetable patch. Its all hands on deck.
Emily is desperate to marry, in part because of this never-ending, hard country life. Oliver, her boyfriend, is determined to move to the city, and the idea of walking through leafy parks with her nails done and hair styled is more than tempting.
So the subject of weddings comes up a lot, but her parents try not to take her too seriously.
***
Post for the Westbrooks! calls the new postwoman, handing Emily a folded newspaper.
Thank you, Emily says, peering curiously. The new postie seems serious, put-together, face open and gentleand no wedding ring in sight. Quiet, eyes averted, all business, not like Mrs. Cummings whod delivered the post forever: plump, cheerful, always full of news, so much so that you barely needed the local paper. When she passed, she left only her old bike and battered post bag.
James! Come here, hurry up!
What? Why are you shouting?
What do you think of her? Look at the energy shes putting into those pedals!
Oh, I thought something tdo with the animals had happened Youre up to your old tricks. Go feed the rabbits, will you?
I will, but youll miss your chance at happiness as usual! She mimics him playfully.
Shes too old for me. And shes already got a child.
Listen to you! You already know her whole life story, and yet you say youre not interested. She just dresses in layers cos its cold on a bike, thats all. Shes living with her younger brotherhes, what, fourteen? So do the maths, James!
Got a B in maths, thank you very much. But anyway, just because a womans got a kid doesnt mean she doesnt deserve happiness.
She does, of course she does. Just dont forgetyoure not the only fish in the sea. And James spreads his arms wide. Doesnt hurt to be picky!
Oh, boast all you like, Emily teases. The good ones get snapped up, and youll be left with slim pickings.
James nearly retorts that shes hardly surrounded by suitors herself, but bites his tongue and studies his sister instead.
She looks quite a bit like their dadtall, slender. Perhaps not built for farming, but just right for the city. Striking, with that pensive gaze of hers.
James, meanwhile, takes after their mumstocky but strong, built for long days outdoors. Spring slips away unnoticed, replaced by the busy summer, the air thick with the scent of strawberries.
James and Michael set about preparing the machinery for harvest. Michael sends him to town for spare parts while he keeps fixing up the old tractor.
James drives back towards the village, turning off the main road. On a slope just outside the village, he spots the new postwoman, sitting on the grass by her bike, back to the road. Her figure jolts slightly at the sound of his approaching Land Rover, but she doesnt look round. She just tugs her scarf lower over her forehead.
James veers off and pulls up beside her.
Hello there, he says, raising his voice. Need a hand? I can give you a lift if you like, nodding to the Land Rover.
No, thank you, just having a rest, she replies, trying to shield a flat tyre with her foot.
Oh, your tyres flat, look, James crouches to inspect it.
Oh? She arches an eyebrow as if just realising. I stopped because its nice here; didnt even notice the wheel.
She starts pulling off her scarf, and James freezes, the wheel in his hands. Her chestnut curls spring loose, tumbling over her shoulders. Her grey eyes, tinged now with green, crinkle as she smiles. James is spellbound.
Her age, whether she has children or a husbandit all becomes irrelevant. In that moment, James finally understands what love is. He physically cant look away, is barely breathing.
Ill try pumping the tyre up for you, he finally manages to say.
No, honestly, its fine, my brother can do it later, she insists.
James stands, trying to hide his shaky knees, grabs the bike and heads for the car.
The postwoman springs up and tugs the bike back. They stand awkwardly, both refusing to let go.
Im a bit stronger than you, he says teasingly, giving the bike a gentle pull. Its seven or eight miles to walk, and thats a long way with a bike. Let me give you a hand.
I take the shortcut its much quicker, really. Let go.
But James cant. Its the first time anyones ever refused help from himany other village girl would have leapt at a ride just for the excuse of sitting in his car.
Silly route, theres a bog down there, he mutters, suddenly letting go of the bike and stomping towards his car.
He barely glances her way again, drives off, and stops at the village Post Office. He heads into the attached shop, dying of thirst.
James, back from town, are you? Hazel from behind the post counter asks as she hands over his change.
Yeah, he replies, swigging half a bottle of water.
Did you spot Alex on your way? Theres a telegram that needs delivering urgently.
The postwoman? Alexandra, you mean?
Yes, thats her.
Yeah, I saw her. I even stopped to helpflat tyreshe told me off. Practically snatched the bike from me!
Hazel suddenly looks anxious.
James, you fool. Her parents died in a car crashshe looks after her brother, doesnt set foot in any car. Poor girl.
I didnt know! James protests. Nobody told me.
Come on, help me deliver this telegram. Ill lock up post in a moment.
James drives her to the address, then back again, delivers the spare parts to his dad.
But Alexandra wont leave his thoughts.
You alright, son? Get changed and help with the cows, Michael calls.
Ive got something I need to do, Dad. Ill be out for a couple of hours.
Alright! His dad nods in approval.
He races down the bumpy lane. Alexandra is there, waiting by the roadside, having walked half the way, waiting for any cars to pass.
He pulls over, locks the car, and walks to her.
Come on, he says, taking charge of the bike.
Im not riding with you, she snaps, gripping the handlebars tight.
I know. Not asking you to. Ill just wheel your bike for you or pop it in the car.
She loosens her grip and sets off a pace ahead.
James walks alongside, taking the hint. Theyre quiet, then he finds his courage:
Im James, by the way.
I know. From the Westbrook farm.
Thats right. And youre Alexandra.
She nods. Yes, Alexandra. You sorted out the telegram earlier?
We did, delivered it to the Michaels place. Dont worry.
It was urgent, was it?
It was. All sorted.
Youve no idea, you saved my skin! I never thought bike tyres could be so fickle, and I still had to pop to the next village. Thank you. She smiles at him, and he nearly stops in his tracks.
I owe you a cake! Unless you prefer pancakes? She grins.
Anything, reallycakes, pancakes, whatever you have, James realises hes coming on too strong and reigns it in. Not fussy, honestly.
I just dont like boiled onions. I sauté them with carrots before adding them to soup.
My mum does the same! So much tastier that way.
They share a laugh. James barely notices how shes slowed down to match his pace, the conversation flowing until they reach the Post Office, where she disappears inside.
He waits outside longer than he needs to, not wanting to leave.
James, what are you doing out here? Alexandra asks, popping her head out of the window.
Need to fix your bike, dont I?
Tomorrow nowits late. Thanks though. You can go.
James doesnt want to leave. Hed happily wait outside that building forever, just to see her walk out again. Foolish? Maybe. But the feeling wont fade.
You forgot your car, she calls after him.
Ohright, left it up by the woods.
Later, James and his dad make a trip to collect the Land Rover. At supper, his mother notices the dreamy look on his face. Emily leans towards her and says quietly:
Told you.
Susan sits down, brings her tea close, and smiles, glancing across at Michael with his mouth full of shepherds pie, then at her son, still lost in thought.
Well, looks like its time for wedding talk. Or do we have to wait for our eagle to announce it himself?
James glares playfully at his sister. I already knownews travels fast around here.
Susan gives his arm a gentle squeeze. Not seen your Oliver lately, Em, hows he doing?
Looking for a decent job in London. Weddings are expensive, Emily replies, sipping her tea and shooting a look at her brother.
Couldve earned a bit helping with the harvest, if hed stayed, James says.
Well be living in the cityLondon, not the countryside. Emily takes another gulp.
Michael looks from one to the other, lost.
Susie, you up to speed with all this?
She just nods. Youll hear all about it soon enough.
After tea, James stands quietly on the front porch, gazing up at the stars. Susan joins him after a while.
Youll need to be up early tomorrow, love.
I cant even shut my eyes, Mum.
She hugs him and smiles.
Dont doubt yourself, James. Its the real thing. Itll growtrust me, I know. Thats how it was with your dad and me. She nods, certain.
James sighs. Hard to believe its possibleand I feel like Im only at the beginning.
And what about her?
I dont know. He shrugs. But she said she sautés her onions before putting them in soup.
His mother laughs softly. That means she likes youyou know more about her now than anyone else around here. Im proud of you, darling.
She pats his back and heads inside. James stands out on the porch a while longer, replaying every moment of the day in his mind, already picturing all that might come next.
