Lost
“Daisy, Im leaving for a contract job up north You know Ive got debts piling up. I wont turn to crime, wont steal. This is the only wayearn enough, pay them off, and come home. Therell even be enough left to fix up your house, and well get little Emily that bike she wants. But itll take a year, maybe a little more,” Matthew insisted, his voice steady.
The whole village knew Matthew had been courting Daisy, the young widow. They loved each other, dreamed of marriage, but his debts loomed like a storm cloud, forcing his hand.
“Right,” Daisy muttered, her voice sharp. “So off you go to the north, same as your wife did. What is it about that place that draws you all in?”
“Daisy, you know shes got nothing to do with me anymore,” he said, exasperated.
But Daisy wouldnt listen. Words tumbled out, bitter and cutting, until Matthew gave up. He packed his things and left. She ignored his calls, even changed her number.
Time passed. The summer was sweltering, the air thick and heavy. The elderly villagers muttered, “Storms coming by nightfall, mark my words. Suns too fierce, airs too still.”
No one expected the hurricane that evening. Dark clouds rolled in, but instead of rain, a gale tore through the villagewires snapped, trees toppled onto rooftops, fences collapsed. People huddled inside, waiting out natures fury.
By morning, the damage was clear.
“My chicken coops flooded,” Mrs. Higgins fretted. “Thank God the hens were roosting high.”
“All my tomatoes are ruined,” sighed Anna. “What a waste.”
“Tomatoes? Chicken coops?” Old Mr. Thompson scoffed. “Weve no power! Who knows when the crews will get here?”
By noon, electricians arrived from the nearby town. They worked for hours, restoring powerbut not to every home. Some had blown fuses; Daisys wiring had burnt out entirely, leaving a blackened streak on the wall. Her heart seized at the sight. The house was old, the wiring ancientwhat if it had caught fire? What then, for her and Emily?
“Dont fret, love,” Mrs. Higgins said. “Stefan over the lane had the same trouble. Theres a lad from the next villageOliver, a proper electrician. Knows his stuff, charges fair. Ask him.”
“Mummy, whens dinner?” Emily tugged at her sleeve. “Im hungry.”
“Soon, sweetheart. At least weve got gas,” Daisy said, forcing a smile.
She cooked, cleaned, glanced at the charred wall. Oliver was busy elsewhere. Another night without power.
The next morning, a broad-shouldered man strode into her yard, his grin easy.
“Morning. You looking for someone?” Daisy called from the garden.
“You, actually. Heard youve got wiring trouble. Names Oliver. Electrician.”
“Ohyes. The walls burnt black. Couldve been worse,” she said, leading him inside.
Emily darted out, then shrank back, shy. Oliver winked.
“Em, this is Mr. Oliver. Hes fixing our lights,” Daisy said.
Oliver examined the damage. “Lucky it didnt catch. Wirings shotneeds replacing. Got my tools in the van. Be back in a tick.”
While he worked, Daisy made lunch.
“Of course Ill pay him,” she thought. “But feeding hims the least I can do.”
By midday, Oliver flicked the switch. Light flooded the room.
“All done. What do I owe you?” Daisy reached for her purse.
“Not a penny,” he laughed. “Lunchll cover it. Starving, I am.”
Shed already set the table. They ate, chatted about nothing in particular. Emily stayed quiet, uneasy.
After he left, Emily frowned. “Mum, I dont like him.”
“Why not? He fixed our house.”
Later, Daisy replayed the way Oliver had looked at her. She was youngonly thirty-oneand pretty. Her husband had died when Emily was a baby. She deserved happiness, didnt she?
Three days later, Oliver returned. “Your fence is a wreck, and the gates hanging by a hinge,” he said, grinning. “Let me fix it. Free of chargejust feed me. And truth is, I fancy you, Daisy.”
Her heart leapt. Maybe her luck was turning.
“Alright,” she said. “Go on, then. Ill make lunch.”
Over the meal, she asked, “Who do you live with back home?”
“Wondering if Im married?” He chuckled. “No. Wife cheated. Divorced.”
A pause. Then he took her hand. “I like you, Daisy.”
She was dizzy. Here was a strong, handsome mansober, hardworking. What more could she want? Only Emily watched them warily, her small face troubled.
From then on, Oliver visited often. They talked, flirted, but Daisy kept him at arms length. He didnt push. A month passed this way.
Then the village buzzedMatthew was back. He lived with his mother; his sister Vera, a nursery teacher, had returned too after a failed marriage, her little boy in tow.
“Vera, is it true? Daisys seeing that Oliver bloke?”
“Everyone knows,” Vera sighed. “He fixed her wiring, and now well.”
Matthews fists clenched. “Over a bloody light switch?”
“Stop it. Shes been alone. You left.”
“I had no choice! She wouldnt listen.”
“Well, now youre back. Debt-free.” Vera walked out.
Matthew caught Daisy walking home from work, gripped her arm.
“Hey. You and himsomething going on?”
“Matthew, are you stalking me?”
“Just answer.”
“None of your business. Bet you had your fun up north.”
Suddenly, he pulled her close, kissed her. Something inside her twisted, love flaring hot despite her anger. She stood frozen.
“Confused, are you?”
“Its just hes different,” she whispered.
Matthew stormed off, leaving her trembling.
That evening, Oliver arrived with wine. Daisy set the table, sent Emily to her mums. But after seeing Matthew, she was distracted.
“To us,” Oliver said, his gaze too slick. “I love a beautiful woman.”
“Had many, have you?”
“Course not. One-woman man,” he said, pouring.
The wine fogged her mind. Olivers stare felt like a spell. He grew bold, hands rough, mouth insistent. She pushed him away.
“Oliver, stopyoure hurting me.”
“Playing hard to get?” He sneered. “Youre no girl. You owe me.”
“Youre drunk.”
“Dont care. Youll do as I say.” He dragged her toward the bedroom.
She fought. Thena slap. Pain bloomed on her cheek.
“After all Ive done for you?” he snarled.
Suddenly, Oliver flew backward, crashing into the wall. Matthew stood there, fury in his eyes. Oliver lunged, but drunkenness made him clumsy. Matthew threw him onto the porch. Daisy watched, terrified. No police were called. Thank God Emily wasnt home.
The villagers saw Oliver stumble out, shirt torn, face bloody.
Matthew gave Daisy one hard look and left. Oliver never returned. Rumor spreadhed beaten his wife before she fled.
Three days later, Matthew came back. Emily raced to him, giggling as he scooped her up. Daisy stepped onto the porch.
“You alright?”
“Fine. You my keeper now?”
“Someones got to be. Cant leave you aloneyoull land in trouble again.” He smiled, setting Emily down.
Then he pulled Daisy close. “Missed you,” he murmured, his eyes warm. Emily beamed up at them, finally at peace. Uncle Matthew was the best.
