She Didn’t Want To, But She Did It Vasilisa had never smoked, but was convinced it calmed her nerves. Standing in the yard of her cottage, she watched the sleepy English village street, troubled by dark and anxious thoughts—her life had grown complicated of late. She lived alone in her late grandmother’s house; her parents were back in their village, seven miles away. Independence appealed to her now she was twenty-three, and she worked at the local Post Office. Unable to finish her cigarette, she stubbed it out and tossed it away. “I don’t like smoking, not like Vera—she’s always puffing away. It was her idea, said it’d help me relax, but I doubt it…” Vasilisa mused. Just then, the newly transferred police constable, Anthony, drove past. She’d heard about him from her Post Office colleagues. Watching his car as it rolled by, she headed inside. Dusk was falling, and tonight—she faced a risky, dangerous task. The day before at the post office, work was steady; a few locals popped in. “Tomorrow’ll be bedlam,” declared Mrs. Anne Ford, “today’s just the calm before the pension payments.” Anne had worked at the Post since she was young; villagers barely remembered a time before her. “Thirty years I’ve been here—everyone knows me. And I honestly couldn’t picture working anywhere else.” “Oh, Anne,” smiled young Vera, “My mum says the Post Office would fall apart without you. You keep it all running.” “Don’t be silly, Vera. No one’s irreplaceable—when I retire, someone else’ll take over…” Marina, a plump forty-two-year-old, breezed in. “Hello—phew, bit warm today! I’ve come on behalf of my neighbour Mrs. Gladys; she needs her magazine subscription renewed. She’s housebound, poor thing—reading helps pass the time. We’re off early tomorrow morning—all the way to sunny Turkey! That’s why she asked me. She’s worried about missing her favourite magazines…” “Turkey!” Anne exclaimed. “You’re brave, flying so far. Ah, you’ll love the sun—enjoy yourself!” she spoke as though she’d holidayed there herself. “I’m not nervous!” Marina laughed. “First thing, I’ll post photos online—I’ve got a new swimsuit, so watch out for those!” And out she went. “That must cost a fortune, flying the whole family abroad,” Vera sighed. “They can afford it—her husband runs a farm,” replied Anne confidently. Vasilisa said nothing, sat quietly at her computer, listening, thinking. Later, the police constable Anthony popped in with a cheerful greeting. “Good afternoon! I’m expecting a delivery notice… Vera?” He glanced around—his eyes fell on Vasilisa and lingered. “Didn’t know such pretty girls worked here… though you look awfully sad.” Anne followed his gaze. “Ah, Vasilisa. Lost her fiancé recently.” “I see,” Anthony said, and Vera confirmed no post had arrived for him. Three weeks before, Vasilisa’s fiancé, Dennis, was found murdered in the nearby market town—said to be caught up in illegal gambling. She’d never known. Police found nobody to charge. Then, one night, two young men from the city turned up. Vasilisa had once seen Dennis with them. “Your fiancé owed us—a hefty sum.” “He’s gone…” Vasilisa trembled. “Debt doesn’t die—so you’ll pay it off. We’ll be back in two weeks. Don’t go to the police or it’ll be the end for you. Here—take these lock picks. Any lock, you can crack.” Once they’d left, Vasilisa locked the door, her nerves frayed and the house silent. The next night she decided—she’d sneak into Marina’s house while they were on holiday. She knew there were no dogs, only closed gates—she climbed the fence. She had no idea how to get in but managed with the picks, just as her tormentor promised. Heart pounding, she knew she was breaking the law, turning into a criminal—just like those who forced her into crime. She searched for money, illuminated by the lamplight from the street outside. “What am I doing?” she thought, “Life’s precious—but why did you do this to me, Dennis? You’re gone, but I must pay—and now I have to break the law.” She considered going to the police, but fear of the dreadful, ruthless man held her back. She found only fifteen thousand pounds, plus Marina’s gold ring and bracelet in the dresser. The laptop lay on the table—into the bag it went. She quietly left Marina’s house, her bag slung over one shoulder, glancing around at the silent neighbourhood—only a few muttering dogs broke the peace. No one saw her. She shook with fear. Home, she hid the bag in her grandmother’s old chest. She barely slept that night and went to work with a pounding headache. Around noon, she popped to the nearby tearoom. “Good afternoon,” greeted Anthony at the door, startling her. He smiled, “Don’t worry, I’m not here for you—I just fancied some lunch, too.” “Hello…” she replied quietly, panicking—did he know? Was he expecting her? “Yes, actually—I was waiting for you,” Anthony said. She stared into his bright eyes—he was joking. After that, they lunched together, and some evenings he’d walk her home, and even stay over. Gossip spread fast through the village: “Vasilisa’s snatched up the new constable—lucky girl,” sniffed Tamara. “My Tanya fancied Anthony, but Vasilisa got in first…” “Oh, let it go—you can see he likes her, can’t you?” And it was mutual—a whirlwind romance. Some villagers judged Vasilisa. “She only buried her fiancé and already found someone new.” “But she’s young, why should she suffer alone?” others defended her. Vasilisa grew anxious as the day approached—when her tormentors would return for the money. What if they arrived and found Anthony there? She wanted desperately to confess to him… Two days before, she finally did: “Anthony, I have to confess…” she began. He laughed. “I love you too…” “It’s not that…” Anthony listened, soberly. He couldn’t believe his gentle, lovely girlfriend had done such a thing—but understood her fear. “Blimey, Vasilisa. You’ll have to answer for it. Where’s the stolen stuff? Why didn’t you come to me first?” She handed him the bag. He reassured her, promising help. Two nights later, there came that knock—Vasilisa opened the door in terror. There stood her blackmailer and his mate, demanding money. “I couldn’t find the cash, but I promise I’ll think of something… Please, just give me more time!” “No more time—give us money now, or we’ll…” He grabbed her, cruelly wrenching her shirt. But suddenly his mate collapsed behind him, and then he fell too. Anthony snapped the handcuffs on—his colleague helped restrain the thug. “It’s all over now,” Anthony said gently. “Justice will be served. Come to the station tomorrow—we’ll sort everything out.” Vasilisa was questioned and told the investigator everything. Marina returned from holiday; her property was restored. Anthony pleaded for Vasilisa’s involvement to remain secret; somehow, it all worked out. No one suspected quiet Vasilisa could do such a thing. Everyone blamed the criminals—they were, after all, Dennis’s killers. Both were sent down for a long stretch. Anthony proposed to Vasilisa—they married. Anthony’s love washed away her guilt and healed her wounds. Together, they now raise their daughter, Olivia.

Didnt Want To, But Did Anyway

Beatrice had never mastered the art of smoking, but she remained steadfast in her belief that a cigarette now and then soothed the nerves. There she stood in her garden, surveying the little English village street, her thoughts gloomy, muddled, and on edge. Life, lately, had been riddled with proper grown-up worries.

She lived alone in her late grandmothers cottage; her parents resided in a nearby village, seven miles off. Beatrice longed for independenceafter all, she was twenty-threeand so shed snatched the chance to live on her own. She worked at the village post office.

Beatrice barely made it halfway through her cigarette before she stubbed it out with a grimace and tossed it aside.

Ill never understand how Veronica chainsmokes all day longshe’s the one who suggested I give it a go. Said it would help calm my nerves. Some advice, she muttered to herself.

Right then, the newly appointed local constable, Anthony, drove past her house. Hed transferred over from a neighbouring town, or so Beatrice had heard from her colleagues at the post office. Watching his car disappear, she wandered inside as dusk crept in. She had a rather perilous mission ahead tonight…

The day before, the post office hadnt been too busy, but the odd villager popped in.

Tomorrows going to be chaos, announced Mrs. Fowler, but todays the calm before pensions arrive.

Mrs. Fowler had been working at the post office since before anyone could remember. Three decades at this desk, shed boast, everyone knows meI can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Veronica, still fresh to the job and always cheerful, grinned, Mum says, without you, the post office wouldn’t run at all. You’re the lynchpin here.

Oh, it would tick over, Mrs. Fowler replied, No jobs sacred; I could be replaced any dayonce I retire, mind you.

Then in bustled Marina, a chatty woman in her forties, mopping her brow. Goodness, isnt it warm today! Im only here because my neighbour, old Gloria, is desperate for me to renew her magazine subscription. Shes a keen reader, poor thingdoesnt get out and the journals distract her. Were off first thing tomorrow to the seasideyes, to Spain! She didnt want to miss her monthly issue.

Spain, eh? Not scared of flying? asked Mrs. Fowler, with all the authority of a woman who read the travel section religiously, Lovely sun there. Youll roast!

Scared? Ha! Ill post photos the moment we landgot myself a new swimsuit, so consider yourselves warned, Marina chuckled and waved on her way out.

Thats got to cost a fortunethe whole family to Spain, Veronica mused.

Oh, the moneys thereher Michaels a dairy farmer, Mrs. Fowler said knowingly.

Everyone was talking, except Beatrice, who sat quietly by the computer, listening and thinking, feeling the weight of her predicament.

A little while later, Constable Anthony breezed in, beaming at the staff.

Afternoon, I think Ive got a notice waiting, he said to Veronica, but his eyes landed on Beatrice and lingered.

I never realised your post office employed such pretty ladiesbut you do look awfully glum

Mrs. Fowler followed his gaze. AhBeatrice. Lost her fiancé recently.

Ah, I see, Anthony replied. Veronica checked, but nothing had arrived for him.

Three weeks before, Beatrices fiancé, Dennis, had been found dead in the town centrea victim of foul play. Rumour was, hed had a penchant for gambling at a secret club, though Beatrice had been blissfully unaware. The police found nobody to blame. But then, one night, two young men from the city turned up at her doorstep. She recognised themtheyd once socialised with Dennis.

Your fella owed us a pretty sum.

But hes dead! she replied, fear gripping her.

Debts outlive their owners, love. Youll settle up, said the bigger one, Lee, and named a hefty figurethree thousand pounds.

But where would I get that sort of money?

Not our concern. Plenty of loaded folk round here, and you know whoworking at the post office, you see everything. We want cash. In two weeks, well be backdont even think of involving the police, or it wont end well. Here, some lockpicksopen any door with them, Lee sneered.

Shaken to the core after they left, Beatrice bolted the door and sat in silence, nerves jangling. The house was quiet as the wind rattled the old windows.

A day later, torn between fear and desperation, Beatrice resolved to sneak into Marinas house at night. The family were off to Spain; she knew there were no dogs, just a locked gateeasily climbed. She scaled the fence, trembling all over.

She had no idea how shed get inside, but Lees lockpicks worked like a charm. Her heart poundedshe was crossing the line, becoming like those very thugs whod forced her hand.

She searched room after room. Streetlight spilled through the curtains.

Oh Lord, what am I doing? she thought. Just trying to survive, but Dennisyoure gone, and Im stuck picking up the pieces, stumbling into crime.

Beatrice knew she should go to the police, but was petrifiedLee was menacing enough. She found a grand total of £150 in a drawer, plus Marinas gold ring and bracelet. A laptop sat on the table, which she stuffed into her bag, too.

She slipped into the night as quietly as shed entered, bag over her shoulder, glancing back. The village was silent; only a distant dog let out a half-hearted bark. Nobody saw a thingshe was shaking like a leaf.

Back home, she stashed the bag in her grandmother’s old chest, hiding it under piles of dusty clothes. That night, sleep evaded her. Head pounding, she trudged off to work.

Around midday, she dashed out of the post office for lunch at the local café.

Afternoon, Anthony greeted her; she practically jumped out of her skin. He smiled, Dont worry, its just lunchIm headed there too.

Hello, she squeaked, racing thoughts. Did he know about the robbery? Was he waiting for her?

I was, actually. I waited for you, he said, teasing.

She caught the twinkle in his eye and relaxed. He was joking. From that day, they lunched together, and gradually, he began meeting her after workand staying over.

Rumour fluttered around the village like pigeons at a picnic.

Beatrice nabbed the constablebeat the rest to it! grumbled Tabitha. Anthony was on my Tanyas wishlistshe was eyeing him from day one, then along comes Beatrice

Oh, give overits obvious Anthony adores Beatrice. Hes smitten.

And the two were indeed a proper love story, though not everyone approved.

Barely buried her fiancé, and shes found another, some would mutter.

Shes not expected to stay miserable for life, is she? others defended.

Beatrice was fit to burst with nerves. The day the thugs were due back was looming, and she dreaded the thought they might bump into Anthony. She needed to confess. Couldnt bear ittwo days left, and she blurted:

Anthony, theres something I have to tell you, Beatrice began, and he grinned.

I know, I love you, too

No, its not that

He listened, wide-eyed. He could hardly believe the lovely, gentle Beatrice would do such a thingthough he understood; shed been terrified.

Well, thats a pickle. But youll have to come clean, you know. Wheres the stolen loot? Honestly, you shouldve just come straight to me

She fetched the bag, handing it over. He promised hed sort things. Two nights later, her door rattled; with dread, she opened it to find Lee and his mate demanding more money.

I didnt find enough. Please, give me more time, she pleaded.

Lee grabbed her hard.

No more timepay, or well he snarled, yanking her shirt so hard it tore. At that moment, his friend collapsed behind himthen Lee hit the deck, too. Anthony was already slapping the cuffs on, another officer yanking Lees mate upright.

Thats sorted, Anthony whispered, Theyre done for. Come to the station in the morningwell get it straight.

Beatrice told her story honestly to the detective. Marina returned from her holiday, and everything was restored to her, though Anthony asked the officers not to spread the details of Beatrices involvement. They kept it quiet, and, in the end, everyone assumed Lee and his sidekick were responsibletheyd even been behind Denniss death and were sent away for a long stretch.

Anthony proposed to Beatrice, and they had a lovely village wedding. His kindness swept away her worries, and his love healed her old wounds. Now theyre raising a daughter, little Grace, togetherand the whole village quietly cheers them on, even if they pretend they always knew everything would turn out just fine.