The Father’s Mistress
Through the corridors of St. Georges Comprehensive strode Olive Andrews, her heels sharp against the faded vinyl floor. She rushed past the staff room, not looking at a soul, and entered the headmistresss office, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Mary Simmons, Miss Simmons Are you alone? Good I need a word, she said, slumping into a chair.
Mary Simmons, still leafing through paperwork, looked up with surprise. Shed known Olive since she was a pupilfamiliar with her cool professionalism, rigid honesty, and an air of both moralising and composure. Olive dressed in dark business suits, couldnt abide idleness, was a keen stickler for propriety, and at nearly forty, was thought of by some as an old maid. Olive had never married.
Mary often thought that perhaps a touch of simple happiness was all Olive lacked for peace of mind.
But now, Olives face was taut and anxiousMary had only seen her look so unsettled before school inspections.
Matter of discipline, is it? About whom? Mary asked.
Its our woodwork teacher, Andrew Vincent. Can you do anything? Fine him, perhaps give him a formal warning? Perhaps have a word
Marys eyes widened. Shed known Olives father, Andrew Vincent, for years. The rumour mill had long been churninghe had a woman on the side. But Andrew Vincent, called simply Vinny by staff, had been married nearly four decades, and hardly seemed the womaniser type.
His supposed mistress worked at the local post officenearly sixty, tall, with strong hands and varicose veins, quiet and modest. She wasnt from their village, a widow with grown children far from home, living alone near the post office, in an ageing house.
Mary found it hard to imagine shed lead a man away from his wife. Especially Vinny, now retired, grey at the templeshardly a catch for a late-life adventure.
I thought youd all worked things out, Olive. Quietly, within the family. I thought Vinny was settled.
Settled! Hes talking about leaving my mother. Weve just had it out. He doesnt listen Mary, please, talk to him. Youre older than him, maybe hell listen to you. Sorry, that sounded dreadful
Its all right, Mary said, waving the apology away. But what do you expect me to say?
Just that my mother is broken-hearted. Shes suffering. Its shamefulwhats he thinking, at his age? After all these years!
And how is your mother, truly?
Oh, she grieves of course. But shes always acted strong. Even now, shouting, threatening to lock him out, cursing. Threatening to keep his pension for herself.
And does that frighten him?
Not a bit, Olive sighed, slumping back, dabbing at tears. I just cant believe it. All these yearsa life together
A life together, you say? Ah, Olive, Mary mused, people dont do this to one another if their souls are truly bound Still, Ill speak to him. Weve worked together long enough.
***
Three years ago, in Sophia Harriss native village, thered been a great fire. A valley ran through the village, only drying out in the hottest months, saving half the street from ruin. Sophias house burned to the ground. She barely had time to drag her disabled, elderly mother to safety.
Her mother, paralysed, cried out on the grass, searching for Sophia as Sophia rushed to free their livestock and chase terrified chickens from their coop. By the time she returned, neighbours were comforting her mother, who died later in hospital with Sophia by her side, Sophia holding her hand.
Sophia was grateful to her sonhe came, helped bury her mother, and took her into his home. Though Sophia didnt stay longsensing she was only a burden.
Near Cambridge, in the village of Ashwell, the house her late mother once owned was left to Sophia and her sister. Now, Sophias cousin and his family lived there, while Sophia was given the small annexhalf storage, part shelter. She moved in and found work at the post office.
She knew no one here. Family were distant, almost resentful, even if Sophias presence was her inheritance by right. But soon, working as the village postmistress, Sophia gained friendspensioners especially adored her.
But the annex needed repairs. Thats how Andrew Vincent, the retired woodwork teacher, entered her life.
Clara, his wife, couldnt stand him sitting idle after teaching was donethough Vinny was never one to laze about. Even at school, hed invite boys round to tinker in the garden. Clara nagged him endlessly about wasting his time; pushed him to take on odd jobs. For years, Vinny had found weekend workhe was good with his hands, well known, always in demand by the locals. From building fences to fixing plumbing, there was little he couldnt do.
Home after lessons, hed eat, then disappear to jobs until late. Clara, meanwhile, counted his earnings into piles, sighing in relief that at least they now lived as well as anyone else. Their son, Nicholas, was an Army officer, always moving base; Olive still lived locally but in her own flat, given to her by the school for rural teachers.
Life was steady.
Then, disaster. It was whispered: grey-haired Vinny was carrying on with the postmistress from the next village. Not some young thingno, a year older than Clara.
At first, Clara laughed it off. Then, she pieced it together. Shed known him too long, not to see the truth.
You old fool! What are you thinking? And what about the children? What am I to tell the neighbours?
He clenched his spoon in a fist, silent, then said quietly, We ought to separate, Clara.
Separate? You must be joking. After all these years? Like I would hand my husband to some old baggage! Who took care of you after your heart attack, eh? Who raised your children, sweated with you in a bedsit in Liverpool? You deserve nothing! she shouted, shaking her strong, work-hardened hands.
Vinny simply gazed out the window at the neat gardena world hed built with his own hands: oak table, benches, the new tall fence. Theyd only sat there together when guests came for dinnernever just the two of them.
And he pictured another garden, wilder, with broken iron gates, straggly hollyhocks, a fat linden shading a battered old bench. Sophias garden. It called to him.
Clara confided in Olive, who was appalled.
This some kind of joke, Mum?
No joke, Clara moaned. Been going on half a year! I never noticed. Off to Ashwell every chance he gotI thought he was fixing things. As if I check up on his jobs. And hes been sneaking off to his fancy woman! Oh, Olive! What do I do?
Ill speak to him, Mum.
Clara blew her nose, shrugged. Whats the use? Ive decidedhes not going anywhere. I made him what he is: pension, wages, everything. No one else is having him. Hes staying in Ashwellno more foot over that womans threshold. Ill watch him close: take his money, hide his passport, give him scruffy clothes. He wont get away.
And so, things appeared to settle. Olive didnt lecture her fatherseeing that he grew withdrawn, almost ashamed around her. Hed never been one for words anyway.
He seemed to crave silence. Clara couldnt be quiet. She was always criticising, always expressing her grievances. Vinny would retreat to corners of the garden, escaping to his tools, finally content only when left alone. In those hours, his eyes sparkled, and a rare smile appeared.
Wheres Dad?
Oh, out in the shed again, I suppose.
The house, built and maintained by Vinny, truly belonged to Clara. She ruled it; the children flourished there. Vinny, meanwhile, was increasingly pushed to the periphery, his belongings gradually migrating to the shed. There he found sanctuaryoften in the company of Benji, their lurcher, his loyal companion.
But not for long. Word got out he was walking five miles to Ashwell, seeing Sophia. When Clara confronted him, he told her the truth.
Forgive me, Clara. I must go. Please try to understand.
That was when Olive stepped indetermined to take on her fathers mistress. Didnt the woman see she was destroying a family?
She marched to the Ashwell post office one sunny spring day, ready to reprimand Sophia Harris as if she were chastising an errant pupil.
Thank you, dear Sophia love, bless youwhat would I do without your help a local granny in her woollen scarf, out of step with the weather, was just leaving.
Keep well, Mrs Smith. If anythings needed, Ill come by; dont worry, Sophia replied kindly.
Her gentle presence unsettled Olive, robbing her of anger. There was still a customer present, so Olive lingered, examining postcards.
Sophia soon said, You must be Olive, yes?
Olive Andrews. May we speak privately? Olives tone was icy.
Well just step out, Mrs Mills, Sophia said, donning her scarf and coat, leading Olive down a quiet side path.
You have children, I hear, Olive began.
Yes, a son and daughter.
Are they aware youre destroying another family? Olive asked, her voice hard.
Yes, they know. My daughters worried for me, my son, furious. He says I betray my late husbands memory. He even refused to visit last time. It pains me.
You dont think youre betraying him?
Thats for God to judge, Sophia answered evenly.
So you dont feel guilty before my mother, my brother, and me? Youre not afraid of the consequences?
Afraid? I told him, Olivethis cant go on. We must resist, but he insists: I cant live without you, nor you without me.
Nonsense! A woman can turn a man around if she wants. Clearly you havent tried. Youre encouraging him!
I dont know how, Olive. I wish I could Sophias honesty was plain. Ive never known a better man than your father.
Olive was stunned by this domestic frankness.
Let him go. Youre both too old for this. My mothers at home, howling.
Im sorry for her. I thought of leaving. But I cant escape myselfnor could your father bear it. You shouldnt treat people this way.
You just dont want to let goa man like him, who would? But we wont let this rest! Olive snapped, then stormed off.
Sophia watched her go, not angry, but full of pity. For Olive, for Clara, for her own childrenand for what she himself was about to do.
The next day, during a break, Olive confronted her father in the empty workshop. She lectured, scolded, invoked family duty and old principles, even threatened to bring Nicholas into it.
Her father listened in silence.
Im sorry, Olive. Mother will manage. I must leave.
Dad, have you lost your mind? Why?
How could Vinny explain, even to himself? Working in silence alongside Sophia, their bond had deepened without words. Even with no conversation, they understood one another completely. And he couldnt imagine being apart.
In the evenings, theyd sit quietly together: Vinny would softly stroke her hair as Sophia rested her head on him. It was more than just companionship. The idea of parting hurt unbearably, as if life itself was slipping away.
He threw himself into repairing her housechanging doors, fixing windows. Sophiad scold him to rest, but he worked as if desperate to leave her as much as possible.
Lets go away together, Sophia.
You have a family, Andrew.
I havent, not really. We all live apart. Im alone.
Sophia knew he spoke the truth.
***
Mary Simmonss talk with Vinny was short-lived. He handed her a folded sheet.
My resignation, Mary. Effective when you sayif you cant find a replacement, Ill stay till summer, otherwise
Mary regarded him thoughtfully. Shed always thought Clara had been lucky in choosing Vinny. Clara was quarrelsome, jealous, and greedybut shed seemed to have landed a good honest man.
Now, though, it all made sense. Vinny had found his soulmate.
It was time to push aside sentiment. She was the head, after all.
Vinny, what have you gone and done? I have no one to replace you. Stay for now, and think on your family.
Thank you, Miss Simmons.
For what?
For not lecturing. I know I should be ashamed
***
Vinny began packing his tools and clothes in the shed, readying an old suitcase.
And where do you think youre going? Nicks coming to visit tomorrowyou running off?
Im not afraid of him. Ill wait, Vinny replied.
Nicholas arrived, wound up by his mother and sister. Hed hardly sat down before following Vinny out to the shed to confront himtall, stern, still in Army greens.
So, Dad! What did you always teach me growing up, eh? I thought you were my moral compassI worshipped you. Now youre throwing it all away? Silver beard, dirty mind
Im sorry, Nick. Thats how it happened.
It hasn’t happened yet! Youll stay put, old manno more gallivanting. Ill speak to your lady friend. Theres only one wife for each of us! There’s a reason they say you shouldn’t swap horses at the ford
Inside, Vinny felt something tear. His sons words vanished in a cloud.
***
They must be mad, these doctors! Clara grumbled, trundling down the hospital corridor with Olive in tow. The right side of his bodys uselesshow are we supposed to manage at home? Id rather it was all over, honestly!
Olive wincednobody should say such things about their father. Nearly a month had passed since his stroke. Post-op, theyd feared hed die. Hed survived, but was paralysed down one side, barely able to speak or move independently.
With Nicholas gone back to the Army, Olive focused on school. Clara struggled with visits to the district hospital, so they hired an orderly for help. Quickly, she admitted to Olive that her services werent needed: some woman visited Vinny each dayhis sister, apparently.
Olive soon guessed the truth. When she glimpsed Sophia once at the hospitals rear entrance, she felt her first real relief, knowing her father was in caring hands.
Now, more than ever, she didnt understand her own reactions. She was angry at Nicholas for confronting their father, annoyed at her mothers bitterness, and every time she looked in her fathers eyes, she saw nothing but guilt and pain. He hated being so helpless.
Clara, meanwhile, just complainedloud and often, even in Vinnys presence.
Your fathers made a mess of everything! Whos to look after him now? Me, of course, as always. Love is one thing, cleaning up anothersuch a fate for a wife
Clara never guessed Sophia was the sister helping out. Olive kept it quiet.
One morning she arrived earlier than usual; staff didnt mention Vinnys visitor. Peering in, she saw Sophia gently exercising Vinnys paralysed leg, cautious and calm.
But what struck Olive was her fathers face: he was alive again. Not sickly, but full of hope. And Sophias kindness lit him up; their silent communication was profound.
She coughed; they both looked up. Sophia calmly covered Vinny.
Hello, Olive. Sorry, we were just
Hello, Sophia Olive replied softly. Youre doing far better than I could. Mind showing me how?
Of course. Im no nurse, just learned from caring for my mother all those years.
Later, together in the corridor, Olive spoke.
Please dont go, Sophia. I know youre here. People have noticed.
I thought youd have heard.
Will you say weve just taken advantage of you? That we turn to you only now, when we need something?
Oh, no, Olive. I offered. I admit Im ashamedashamed to your mother and to you. I didnt tell the staff who I really wasjust said Im his sister. Nobody knows.
How do you get time off work? What about home?
Ive arranged things with another post mistressshe covers both villages, and my cousin checks my house. Ive let a room nearby, from a kind old ladyshe brings Vinny broths and herbal teas.
And you dont go home yourself?
No. Im hereliving just behind the hospital.
She spoke of remedies for Vinny, never displaying the despair seen now in Claras eyes.
Sophia, do you believe my father will walk again?
Yes, I do! Hes strong. Hes improving daily.
Such calm certainty inspired Olive too. Walking past the blooming hawthorns lining the hospital drive, she inhaled their scent and, for the first time in years, smiled. Love still existed. And she sensed she could find it for herself, once her heart was readyperhaps now, finally, it was.
Preparations were made for Vinnys discharge.
So where will we put him, Olive? Clara fussed. By the telly? Hell lie there all day
In the lounge, Mum. Where people can see him. The bedrooms lonely.
Lonely? Let him behe wont walk again anyway. Its a disgrace. Hell stay where nobody sees.
Why not put him in the shed while youre at it? Olive snapped. Thats where his place always was
Her mothers constant moaning made life unbearable. At last, Olive confided in her.
Mum, how would you feel if Sophia had him in her care?
That woman? Shed love thatjust wants his pension now hes crippled. As if shell look after him! No one will have him but uswife and children, thats all.
Mum, shes been there all along
What? But I thought Tessa, the nurse, was his help?
Noit was Tessa who told me. Sophias called herself his sister.
Clara fell silent, then thumped the table.
Oh, the schemerafter his pension and benefit! Shell regret this! showing her contempt with a traditional English two-fingered salute.
***
Discharge day came. Olive and cousin Gene were to bring Vinny home by ambulance. Clara stayed at home, preparing for his arrival. Sophia saw Vinny in the morning, got him ready, and quietly said goodbye.
On the way out, the orderly, Tessa, caught Olive.
His sister was crying hard earlieras if it were farewell. She is his sister, right?
Crying?
Yes. And he as well I dont know whats what, Tessa muttered.
Once the paperwork was done, Gene waited downstairs.
Olive gently asked, Dadmay I ask? You need care now. Be honest: where do you want to goto Mums, or to Sophias?
She watched tears roll down his good cheek.
Dad, dont cry. Both options are fine. Take your time.
With difficulty, Vinny whispered through his half-working lips, To Sophia
They loaded him into the ambulance.
Ashwell, please, Olive told the driver.
Gene looked surprised. Vinnys eyes shone with gratitude.
When they arrived, Olive didnt have time to knockSophia opened the door, her face blotchy from tears but radiant with hope.
Sophia Are you sure you want to take this on?
Sophia, bustling with nervous energy, simply asked for help.
Soon, the two women moved Vinny inside, settled him on a fresh mattress.
Will you manage with the other bed, Sophia? Its lumpy.
Oh, Ill make do. Its fine, Sophia waved dismissively, hurrying back for Vinny.
Olive saw how Vinny and Sophia quietly understood one anotherhow deeply happy they were, needing no words. Olive made a quick goodbye, promising to visit, content to leave her father where hed be well cared for.
At home, Olive embraced her mother. Im sorry, Mum. We took him to Ashwell. Its best for everyone.
Clara raged, cursing Sophia and lamenting over lost money and what the neighbours would say. But a few days later, her anger softened. She now insisted Sophia deserved the troublelet her nurse Vinny if she must.
Olive never mentioned her frequent visits with Sophia to see her father. She didnt tell Clara that Vinny was soon sitting up, that his face regained its shape, or that he now spoke clearly and, by the end of summer, walked with a stick around the garden, even making small items in the shed again.
And when faithful Benji followed his master to the new house, Olive did nothing to stop him, and Benji became Vinnys loyal shadow once more.
Vinny and Sophia spent evenings on their battered bench beneath the linden.
Oh, Sophia, this bench is a shambles. Its a shame I didnt get to mend it this summer.
Therell be another summer, Andrew. Theres no rush. Im happy, as long as Im here with you.
She laid her head on his chest, and he gently stroked her hair.
There was so much left to do. Their little garden, with its crooked gate and wild flowers, was finally their own. And Sophia was rightthere was time enough for all things.
They found peace together, at last.
***
Life moves on, and hearts sometimes seek what they need, not what the world expects. True happiness can bloom even in later seasons; kindness and connection matter far more than years or reputation. It is never too late to choose love, and never too late to open your heart.
