The husband sent his wife to the countryside to help her lose weight, though his real aim was to enjoy himself freely with his secretary.
“Steven, I dont understand what you want,” said Emily.
“Nothing much,” replied Steven. “I just need some time alone, a bit of rest. Go to the countryside, relax, shed a few pounds. Youve let yourself go a bit lately.”
He gave her figure a dismissive glance. Emily knew shed put on weight because of her treatment, but she stayed silent.
“Where exactly is this countryside?” she asked.
“A very picturesque spot,” Steven smiled. “Youll love it.”
Emily chose not to argue. She needed a break too. “Maybe were just tired of each other,” she thought. “Let him have his space. And I wont return until he asks me himself.”
She began packing her things.
“Youre not upset with me, are you?” Steven added. “Its just for a little while, just for you to rest.”
“No, its fine,” Emily replied with a smile.
“Right then, Im off,” Steven said, kissing her cheek before leaving.
Emily sighed deeply. Their kisses had long since lost their warmth.
The journey took far longer than expected. Emily took two wrong turnsher sat-nav was acting up, and there was no signal. Finally, a sign for the village appeared. The place was remote, the houses neat despite being wooden, with pretty carved details.
“Not a modern convenience in sight,” Emily thought.
She wasnt wrong. The cottage looked like a rundown shack. Without her car or phone, she might have thought shed stepped back in time. She pulled out her mobile. “Ill call him now,” she told herself, but stillno signal.
The sun was setting, and Emily was exhausted. If she didnt find the house, shed be sleeping in the car.
She had no desire to return to London, nor did she want to give Steven the satisfaction of saying she couldnt manage.
She stepped out of the car. Her red coat stood out comically against the village backdrop. She smiled at herself.
“Right then, Emily, we wont get lost,” she said aloud.
The next morning, a roosters sharp crow woke her as she slept in the car.
“What on earth is that racket?” Emily grumbled, rolling down the window.
The rooster fixed her with one beady eye, then started squawking again.
“Why are you making such a fuss?” Emily exclaimed, but then a broom swished past the window, and the rooster fell silent.
An old man appeared by the roadside.
“Morning!” he greeted her.
Emily stared, surprised. The villagers seemed plucked from a fairy tale.
“Dont mind our rooster,” the old man said. “Hes harmless, just makes a din like hes being plucked alive.”
Emily burst out laughing, her sleepiness vanishing. The old man grinned.
“Staying long, or just passing through?”
“For a rest, as long as it takes,” Emily replied.
“Come in, love. Have some breakfast. Youll meet the missus toobakes the best cakes and no one to eat them. Grandkids visit once a year, children even less”
Emily didnt hesitate. She needed to know the locals.
The old mans wife was every inch the storybook grandmotherapron, headscarf, toothless smile, kind wrinkles. The cottage was spotless and cosy.
“This place is wonderful!” Emily exclaimed. “Why dont the children visit more?”
Margaretthe wifeshrugged.
“We tell them not to. The roads are awful. After rain, youre stuck a week. There was a bridge once, but it was old. Collapsed fifteen years back. Were cut off. Harry only goes to the shop once a week. The boat cant take much anymore. Hes sturdy, but age”
“These cakes are divine!” Emily said. “Isnt there anyone to look after you? Someone must care.”
“Whats the point? Theres only fifty of us now. Once, it was a thousand. Everyones left.”
Emily thought for a moment.
“Thats odd. What about the council?”
“Other side of the bridge. With the detour, its forty miles. Think we havent asked for help? Same answer every timeno funds.”
Emily realised shed found her holiday project.
“Tell me, wheres the council? Or will you take me? Doesnt look like rain.”
The couple exchanged glances.
“You serious? You came here to rest.”
“I am. Rest comes in many forms. And if it rains? Ive got to think of myself too.”
The old pair smiled warmly.
At the council, they told her:
“How long will you pester us? You make us out to be the villains. Look at the state of town roads! Whos going to fund a bridge for fifty people? Find a sponsor. Like Thompson. Ever heard of him?”
Emily nodded. Of course she hadThompson owned the company where Steven worked. He was from here, though his parents had moved to the city when he was a boy.
After a nights thought, Emily made her decision. She had Thompsons numberSteven had called him from her phone before. She decided to approach it indirectly, not mentioning Steven.
The first call failed. On the second, Thompson listened, paused, then laughed.
“You know, Id nearly forgotten I was born there. Hows it holding up?”
Emily brightened.
“Lovely, peaceful, the people are wonderful. Ill send you photos and videos. Mr. Thompson, Ive tried everythingno one will help the elderly. Youre the only one who could.”
“Ill think on it. Send the photosId like to remember how it was.”
For two days, Emily filmed and photographed for Thompson. The messages were read, but no reply came. Just as she was giving up, he called himself:
“Emily, could you come to my office on High Street tomorrow at three? Bring a rough plan of the work needed.”
“Of course, thank you, Mr. Thompson!”
“You know, its like stepping back into childhood. Lifes a racenever time to stop and dream.”
“I understand. But you should visit in person. Ill be there tomorrow, no doubt.”
Only after hanging up did she realise: it was the same office where Steven worked. She smiled to herself, anticipating the shock to come.
She arrived early, with an hour to spare. After parking, she headed to Stevens office. The secretary was absent. Hearing voices from the break room, she approachedand found Steven with his secretary.
At the sight of Emily, they froze. She stood rooted in the doorway while Steven scrambled up, fumbling with his trousers.
“Emily, what are you doing here?”
Emily fled, colliding with Thompson in the corridor. She thrust documents at him and, tears spilling, rushed for the exit. She barely remembered the drive back to the village. Once there, she collapsed onto the bed and sobbed.
Next morning, a knock woke her. On the doorstep stood Thompson with a group of people.
“Morning, Emily. Saw you werent ready to talk yesterday, so I came myself. Fancy some tea?”
“Of course, come in.”
Not a word about the day before. Over tea, nearly the whole village gathered outside. Thompson looked through the window.
“Blimey, what a turnout! Emily, this wouldnt be old Harry, would it?”
Emily smiled. “It is.”
“Thirty years ago he was already a granddad, and his missus would feed us her cakes.”
The man eyed Emily warily, and she quickly said, “Margarets in fine formstill baking those famous cakes.”
The day passed in a whirl. Thompsons team measured, noted, calculated.
“Emily, may I ask you something?” Thompson said. “About your husband do you forgive him?”
Emily thought, then smiled. “No. Oddly, Im grateful it happened this way So?”
Thompson stayed silent. Emily stood, looking around.
“If the bridge is rebuilt, this place could be something special! Restore the cottages, make little retreats. The natures untouched, authentic. But no ones doing it. And if I didnt want to go back to the city”
Thompson watched her admiringly. This woman was remarkabledetermined, clever. Hed never noticed her before, but now saw her differently.
“Emily, may I visit again?”
She met his gaze. “Come whenever you like. Id be glad.”
The bridge construction raced ahead. The villagers thanked Emily, and younger folk began returning. Thompson became a frequent visitor.
Steven called repeatedly, but Emily refused to answer,
