Never Stop Believing in Happiness

Never stop believing in happiness

Back in her reckless twenties, Ellie wandered into a bustling market in York. A travelling fortuneteller with eyes as dark as a moonless night seized her wrist and sang in a lilting voice:

Lovely lady, youll soon live in a sunkissed land where the air smells of sea and vines.

Ellie laughed, shaking her head.

Nice story! Ill never leave my hometown!

Life went on in its usual muddle. A marriage of genuine affection, the birth of a daughter named Blythe, plans for a second child. Yet Ellie kept a parttime job, just in case she wanted to stay sharp. Five or six years and then I could think about a boy, she thought.

Then came a business trip that turned everything upside down. Her neighbour, a nurse named Margaret, called in a panic.

Ellie, theyve taken George to the hospital! The ambulance came from an address down the road we dont even know.

Family secrets have a curious way of popping up where you least expect them.

The return home felt like a lowbudget thriller. That very evening Ellie raced to the hospital, her heart pounding in her throat. Her husband, pale and with a bandaged arm, avoided her gaze like a child caught stealing sweets.

Where did they bring you from? she asked quietly.

His silence said more than any answer could.

It didnt take long to discover that the mysterious address belonged to a solitary woman a colleague of Georges whose friendship had been simmering for over a year.

Everyones temperament is different. Some turn a blind eye, others throw a tantrum and then, clenching their teeth, serve soup to the cheater. Ellie, however, was made of a sturdier cloth. She didnt wait for Georges discharge; there was an injured soul to tend to.

She packed the few essentials into an old suitcase, scooped up a trembling Blythe, and slipped out of their flat without a backward glance.

Were starting fresh, love, she whispered, clutching the tiny hand.

***

For a while her mother took them in. Soon after, Ellie divorced, split the square footage with George, and took out a mortgage on a modest terraced house. She lived on autopilot, trying to secure a future for herself and her daughter.

Years later, exhausted by work and loneliness, Ellie booked a flight to the English countryside, staying at a welcoming cottage owned by Olivia, a friend of her mother, just an hours drive from Brighton. Shed been budgeting for the trip, fretting over every penny, until the itch became unbearable and she bought the tickets on a whim, hoping the southern English sunshine would melt the ice in her heart.

Olivia, listening to Ellies bitter confessions Ill never learn to trust again, Love is a myth for me finally lost patience. She slipped a quick call to an acquaintance who ran a local winery.

James, she said, find me a man named Lucas. Tell him Im looking for a bride.

Ellies thoughts were far from romance. She was already in her pyjamas, wrapped in a soft robe, reading a book to chase away the gloom. Outside, a pitchblack night lingered over the south coast.

A sudden knock interrupted her. A minute later, Olivia burst into the bedroom, eyes sparkling.

Ellie, get up! Your fiancés here!

What nonsense? Ellie laughed, but she tossed on her robe and shuffled into the lounge.

Standing there was him tall, silverthreaded at the temples, eyes twinkling. Lucas, clutching a battered motorcycle helmet, leaned against a weatherworn bike that had just crawled twenty kilometres up a winding hill under a canopy of stars to meet a stranger.

Olivia told me youre a proper English lady? he said in halting English, his accent sounding like a music box.

Ellie, startled, reached for a handshake. Instead, Lucas cupped her handslarge and warmand held on. They plonked themselves on the sofa, hands intertwined, neither letting go. He barely spoke English, she didnt know a word of Italian, yet their conversation of gestures, smiles and glances was so lively that Olivia, with a grin, slipped away, leaving them alone with the spark theyd ignited.

He left at dawn, hopping back onto his iron steed. Later Ellie learned that his life had been a string of mishaps: two failed marriages, no children, no home. Hed been squatting in a tiny flat above his brothers garage, his faith in happiness all but gone.

Ten days before his departure they hashed out everything. Ill come back, Ellie said simply to his proposal. Well live together.

***

The following months back home whirled like a hurricane: being made redundant, packing boxes, heated talks with relatives who couldnt fathom her madness. Her phone buzzed nonstop.

My sunshine, how are you? I miss you. Lucas.
Our new window looks out onto an olive grove. Your room is waiting. Yours, Lucas.

The sevenyear age gap (Ellie was older) and his impending love for her twelveyearold daughter never seemed to rattle him.

One afternoon, perched on the sundrenched terrace of their new cottage, Ellie wrapped an arm around Lucas and asked,

Lucas, why did you believe in us so quickly? Why wasnt you scared?

He turned, and his eyes reflected the whole of the Tuscanlike hills of Sussex.

An old vintner once told me Id meet a woman from the easta stormysouled lady whose heart longs for calm. He said shed bring the luck Ive been cultivating in my vines but never finding. Thats you, Ellie.

And? she whispered, tears threatening. Did you find that luck?

Lucas didnt answer with words. He simply drew her close and kissed her as if it were both their first and last kiss. Then, flashing his bright, sunny grin, he declared,

She found me herself! Im beyond happy.

And life truly settled.

A wonderful job appeared, they secured a mortgage on a cosy cottage with views over rolling hills. Lucas adored his stepdaughter Blythe, who now eagerly learns to speak Italian for fun. In the mornings he brings Ellie cinnamonspiced coffee in bed; in the evenings the house fills with the scent of his divine pasta. His love is everywhere in wildflower bouquets on the table, in gentle touches, in the caring glance he gives her each sunrise.

Ellie blossomed. She cant believe she ever thought happiness was a fairy tale. Now she knows: happiness isnt a myth. It wanders the world, stubbornly seeking its other half, and when it finds it, it binds them together so tightly that no storm can ever frighten them again.