**Diary Entry 21st March, 1985**
Maria and her husband, Michael, returned from the wake tired and heavy-hearted. They had just buried their mother-in-law, Anna, laying her to rest beside her husband.
“At least shes at peace now,” Michael murmured, rubbing his temple. “She kept asking for this, you knowto be buried next to Father.”
Maria nodded. “She knew wed never consider anywhere else, but it was all she thought about in the end. Poor soulthat illness was cruel.”
The evening passed quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Maria reflected on her past, particularly the years before marriage. There was little joy there. Shed lost both parents youngtrapped in her grandmothers house when it caught fire one night after Grandads funeral. She and her older brother, Nick, had been spared only because theyd stayed home.
Overnight, they became orphans. The villagers whispered that Grandad George had taken his wife and the childrens parents with him. Nick, barely seventeen, became her guardian. He worked the farm while she studied. Life was hardtoo hard for a girl of thirteen. Even now, she sometimes wondered how shed survived it.
Their village, Littlecombe, was smalljust forty-odd houses. The school only went up to Year 4, so from Year 5, children walked three miles to the next village. In winter, they cut across the frozen brook. Years ago, old Ned would ferry them by horse-cart on Mondays and fetch them Saturdays, but the older boysled by a lad named Jimmy, the council chairmans sonoften preferred walking home in groups.
“Meet by the oak bench after lessons,” Jimmy would say. “Well walk back together.”
Three miles wasnt far, not with company. The lads were at that agepassing notes to girls, arranging dances at the village hall on weekends. By Monday, everyone knew whod walked whom home, who fancied whom. Back then, the village thrived on such gossip.
Maria, too, attended that school. By sixteen, shed turned headsgolden-haired, gentle as a fawn. Even the older lads noticed. One glance, and a lad would lose sleep; one word, and her voice lingered in his ears for days. She was the sort who had it allbeauty, brains, kindness. Her only flaw, if you could call it that, was being an orphan. She lived with Nick, his wife, Susan, and their newborn son.
Susan resented her. No matter how hard Maria triedhelping with chores, minding the babyshe felt like a burden.
“Once Ive finished school, Ill leave,” she told herself. “Train as a cook in town. Susan wont miss me.”
She never complained to Nick. It wasnt her place to come between them.
The lads admired her from afar. None dared disrespect her, though many hoped shed choose one of them someday. But Maria kept her distanceuntil the rumours started. Jimmy, the chairmans son, was courting her. They walked hand-in-hand at dusk, sat together under the oak. Jimmy was handsome, broad-shoulderedmore man than boy. They made a striking pair, inseparable.
“A match made in heaven,” the old women clucked. “Mark my wordstherell be wedding bells soon.”
Not everyone approved. Jimmys parents, especially his father, Mr. Harris, the council chairman, opposed it. The Harrises were well-offfirst in the village to own a car, a solid brick house, even a motorbike Jimmy rode.
“This orphan girls got her sights set on our boy,” Mr. Harris grumbled to his wife. “Pretty, yes, but whats she bringing? No family, no prospects. Nick barely scrapes by.”
“Hes besotted,” Mrs. Harris fretted. “Out with her till all hours. No parents to keep her in checkthough they say shes decent.”
“Ill find him a proper wife. The agronomists girl from Elmsworthgood family, good connections. A union like that would suit us.”
“But how? He wont listen.”
“Leave it to me.”
The next day, Mr. Harris paid Susan a visit.
“Susan,” he called through the window. “A word.”
She stepped out, wary. “What brings you here, Mr. Harris?”
“Your auntClara, is it? Lives up in Yorkshire?”
She frowned. “Aye, my mothers elder sister. Why?”
“I want Maria gone. Send her to Clara.”
Susan blinked. “Youd split them? Theyre in love!”
“Out of sight, out of mind. Ill pay you handsomely.”
Money talked. Susan convinced Nick, and before long, Maria was bundled onto a train north, weeping, clutching a letter and an address.
Jimmy was shattered. He barely spoke to his father. Even Mrs. Harris regretted it.
When conscription came, Jimmy left for service in Yorkshire. Two years passed. Then, a letter: *”Bringing a bride home.”*
“See?” Mr. Harris crowed. “Forgotten her already.”
The village buzzed. What lass had he found?
The taxi pulled up. Out stepped Jimmy, taller now, in uniformand then *her*. Maria, radiant in white, hair styled like a city girl.
The crowd gasped. Mr. Harris turned pale.
“Meet my wife,” Jimmy announced.
The villagers cheered. “True love wins!”
Defeated, the Harrises welcomed her. The wedding was merry. The young couple thrived, raised two sons. Even Mr. Harris grew fond of her. Maria bore no grudgesome loves are meant to be.
Years later, Mr. Harris passed first. Mrs. Harris followed soon after. Maria nursed her tenderly, grateful for the mother shed become.
Now, the house is quiet. Grief will fade. Life goes on.
**Lesson:** Fate has its own designs. No force on earth can keep two hearts apart if theyre meant to beat as one.
