The Paper Marriage
Thomas strolled along the platform, enjoying the gentle warmth of the spring sun. The young man had spent the past seven years working away, felling trees to earn his keep. Now, with a decent sum saved up and gifts for his mother and sister in his bag, he was finally heading home.
“Lad, where you headed? Fancy a lift?” came a familiar voice from behind.
“Grandad John! Don’t you recognise me?” Thomas beamed.
The old man shaded his forehead with his hand, squinting at the stranger.
“It’s me, Thomas! Have I changed that much?”
“Tommy! Blimey, what a surprise! We’d given up hope of seeing you again! Could’ve sent word, at least.”
“I was stuck in the middle of nowhere—post barely reached us. How’s everyone? Mum, Emily, are they all right? My niece must be in school by now, eh?” Thomas grinned.
The old man lowered his eyes and sighed. “So you don’t know… Bad business, Tommy. Very bad. It’ll be three years come autumn since your mum passed. Emily went off the rails, then just upped and left little Sophie behind.”
“Sophie? Where is she?” Thomas’s face fell.
“Emily locked her in the house last winter before vanishing. We didn’t find out straight away. Three days later, my missus heard a noise—went to check, and there the poor mite was, crying at the window for help. We took Sophie in. Hospital first, then the children’s home.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way. John let the lad gather his thoughts, not prying. Half an hour later, the horse-drawn cart stopped outside an overgrown yard. Thomas stared at the weeds, barely recognising his childhood home. His eyes welled up.
“Don’t lose heart, Tom. You’re young, fit—you’ll have this place shipshape in no time. Come to ours for now. Rest up, have dinner with us. My missus will be chuffed,” John offered.
“Thanks, but I’ll head home. I’ll pop round tonight.”
All day, Thomas hacked away at the yard. By evening, guests arrived—John and his wife, Granny Clara.
“Tommy love! Look at you, all grown up! Proper handsome now!” The old woman hugged him fiercely. “We’ve brought supper. Eat, then we’ll help sort the house. So glad you’re back!”
“Any word on Emily? How could she…? She was always so decent,” Thomas asked over dinner.
“No idea. The poor lass couldn’t take it—first her husband, then her mum… Too much for her. What’ll you do about Sophie? Might you take her? You’re her uncle, after all,” Clara said.
“Dunno. I’ll get the house straight first, then go see her. She doesn’t even know me.”
A week later, Thomas steeled himself to visit Sophie in town. On the way, he stopped at a toy shop. A pretty, dark-haired girl greeted him with a warm smile.
“Need help choosing something?”
“Aye. Clueless about toys, me. A doll, maybe? For a seven-year-old. You pick the rest.”
Quickly, she fetched a lovely boxed doll and a board game.
“Perfect! Every little girl’s mad for these. The game’s a hit too.”
“Ta! Hope my niece likes them,” Thomas said gratefully.
***
Sophie gave her uncle a frosty reception, eyeing him sullenly. But the gifts thawed her, and finally, she smiled.
“You don’t know me at all,” Thomas began.
“I do. Gran and Mum showed me your photos. Told me all about you,” she interrupted.
“Oh? What’d they say?”
“That you’re kind and good. Uncle Tom, when are we going home?” she whispered, glancing around.
The question stunned him. He knew then—she was unhappy here.
“Sophie… are they unkind to you?” he whispered back.
She nodded, tears welling.
“I can’t take you yet, but I promise you’ll come home soon. Don’t fret, eh?”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
Thomas marched to the care home’s manager, only to hear grim news.
“I understand you’re her uncle, but kinship alone won’t satisfy the guardianship board. Are you employed?”
“Not yet. Just back from work up north. But I’ve good savings—”
“That’s not enough! Everything must be official. Married? Children?”
“No,” Thomas admitted.
“Bad, that. If you’re serious, you’ll need a job and a wife.”
“That takes time! Sophie wants to come home now!”
“Nothing I can do,” the man said flatly.
After a long day in town, Thomas barely caught the last bus. Sinking into his seat, he stewed in frustration.
“Oh, hello!” a pleasant voice chimed.
“You?” Thomas blinked. “What are you doing here?”
Beside him sat the kind shop girl who’d helped him earlier.
“Heading home to Littlebrook. I work in town but live with my gran,” she explained.
“Well, I’ll be! We’re neighbours! I’m from Littlebrook too,” he laughed. “I’m Thomas.”
“Alice.”
“Did your niece like the gifts?”
“Aye,” he sighed.
On impulse, he spilled his troubles to this near-stranger.
“What a rotten system! Papers matter more than people’s hearts,” Alice fumed.
“Alice… you’re Granny Vera’s granddaughter, right?”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Don’t remember you, though.”
“You were knee-high when I left. Let’s drop the formalities—we’re not strangers.”
“Tom, I might help with the job. Our shop needs a stocker—light work, deliveries twice a week. Proper payslips.”
“Brilliant! Just a wife to find now!” he joked.
Next day, Alice put in a word, and Thomas got the job. That afternoon, he visited Sophie with sweets, then rode home with Alice again.
“Ta. You’ve been a lifesaver.”
“Don’t thank me—it’s for Sophie. Now, about that wife…”
“Impossible. I know no single lasses—all wed while I was gone.”
“There’s always a way. Think,” Alice said firmly.
“Alice… you’re free, aren’t you?” he ventured.
“I am. But I’m not marrying yet,” she flushed, edging away.
“You misunderstand. A paper marriage—just for the forms. Divorce in six months.”
Alice gaped as if he’d gone mad.
“Please! I’ll pay you well. Help us!”
“Fine. But no payment. This is for Sophie.”
“Hurrah! We’ll see the registrar tomorrow. Sophie’ll be over the moon!”
Two months later, Sophie came home. For the first week, Alice stayed over, fearing the guardianship board’s spot check.
Sophie adored being home—but she’d grown attached to Alice.
“Sophie, love, Alice is just a friend. Not my real wife.”
“So? Can’t she stay forever?”
“She’s got her own home. A gran who misses her.”
“But we’ll miss her too.”
“We will,” Thomas smiled. “She’ll visit.”
Days later, Alice left. Thomas and Sophie carried on alone.
“Never mind—we’ll build a new house. Too busy to mope,” he encouraged.
“Uncle Tom… if Mum comes back, you won’t let her take me, will you?”
“Never. You’re mine now.”
Yet as Thomas threw himself into building, Alice haunted his thoughts. Sophie missed her too—scanning the gate every Saturday, though Alice seldom came.
“Tom, when’s Alice visiting?”
“Dunno. Busy, probably.”
“Let’s go to her!”
“We can’t. She never invited us.”
“But you’re her husband! Sort of!”
“Sort of,” he chuckled.
“Then we can visit!”
“Oh, alright. Tonight.”
Sophie dressed in her best, then fetched a huge bouquet from the neighbours.
“Sophie, what’s this for?”
“For Alice!”
“Smart lass,” said Granny Clara, who’d tagged along. “Stand your ground. You two make a lovely pair!”
“She doesn’t want me. Drop it,” Thomas snapped.
“Rubbish! She fancies you—it’s plain as day,” Clara retorted.
Flowers in hand, they found Alice hanging laundry.
“Look at you two! Come in—supper’s nearly ready!” Alice beamed, flustered.
“See? You were scared for nothing! Give her the flowers and propose!” Sophie hissed, nudging him.
Thomas reddened, coughed, then thrust out the bouquet.
“Alice… be my wife?”
“We’re already married,” she faltered.
“My real wife…”Alice wiped her hands on her apron, laughed through happy tears, and whispered, “Yes, you daft man—not just on paper this time.”
