REBORN HAPPINESS “Sir, would you please stop following me everywhere? I’ve told you—I’m in mourning…

REBORN HAPPINESS

Sir, will you please stop following me everywhere! Ive told you, Im mourning my late husband. Please, leave me be! Youre starting to frighten me! My voice rises in frustration.

I do remember, he says quietly, but I get the feeling youre really mourning yourself. Forgive me for saying so. My persistent admirer wont be deterred.

Im spending time at a countryside retreat. All I crave is peace and the sounds of birds in the treesnot persistent attentions from men. Its been only a short time since I lost my husband so suddenly. My heart aches, Im still trying to process the loss.

My husband, Oliver, and I had just started renovating our flat, scrimping and saving, denying ourselves luxuriesand then the unthinkable happened. Oliver took ill, the ambulance came, but there was nothing they could do. His second heart attack proved fatal. Now here I am, a widow left with two teenage sons and an unfinished flat. My hands fall to my sides, helpless. How does one carry on after such loss?

My workmates arranged for me to go to this retreat. I really didnt want to leave the house. I resisted, but they insisted:

You arent the first widow, nor will you be the last. Your boys need you. You must go on. Please, Jane, take a break. Clear your head, they said, and I finally, reluctantly agreed.

Its been forty days since Olivers funeral, but the ache wont ease.

Theyve put me in a shared room with a lively young woman named Lily. Shes so endlessly cheerful and full of light its almost aggravating. I didnt feel like confiding my misery to someone so young. Anyway, why should she bear my grief? Shes caught the eye of the retreats entertainment coordinatora type you always find at such places: single, divorced, or lonely widowers. I warned Lily to be cautious, rather sure the man is married for the second or third time at least.

Lily just laughs, Oh dont worry about me, Jane! I know how to look after myself.

And off shed go most nights for dates, while I rarely left the room. I tried reading but never remembered the words, watched television but didnt see the screen.

One morning, feeling unexpectedly cheerful, I peer out at the glorious grounds and think, yes, a walk in the woods, listening to the birds and taking in the fresh air, is just what I need. Thats where I encounter a stranger.

Id noticed him in the dining rooma short man, and his gaze was unsettling. He was at least a head shorter than me, but sharply dressed and clean-shaven. Every night, hed greet me with a respectful bow at dinner. Out of politeness, Id nod back.

Then, one night, he sat at my table.

Feeling lonely, madam? he purred.

No, I replied stiffly.

Oh, do be honest, he pressed gently. You look desperately sad. Perhaps I could help?

Youre right. Im grieving for my late husband. Care for any other questions? I dabbed my hands with a napkin and stood, signalling the end of this pointless conversation.

Im sorry. My condolences, he said, but still tried, Lets introduce ourselves. Im Charles.

He seemed anxious not to lose this chance.

Jane, I offered reluctantly and took my leave.

After that, Charles started sitting at my table each dinner time, always presenting little posies of bluebellsthose flowers were everywhere locally. I wont deny it was charming, but I had no intention of letting it develop further.

Charles was persistent. Soon, he was joining me on my evening strolls. I took to wearing flat shoes so as not to highlight our height difference. Charles clearly cared nothing for that, nor his shiny baldness. It dawned on me he wooed women with his deep, soothing voicenever had I heard such a magnetic tone. I realised I was probably being expertly ensnared.

Within a few days, we were going to the dance evenings together, shopping for fruit in town… Charles several times invited me to his room, but I held firm, not giving in.

At last, Charles reminded me, Jane, youre leaving tomorrow. Perhaps youd like to join me in my room for a cup of tea this evening?

Ill think about it, I replied vaguely.

It was the final night. Not wanting to hurt Charless feelings, I decided to join him, knowing all too well where it could lead.

His room was set with an elegantly laid table, treats aboundI smirked, guessing he had borrowed cutlery from the dining hall. He poured us some champagne.

Shall we begin, Jane? I honestly dont know how Ill cope with us parting tomorrow. Leave me your address? I promise Ill visit, Charless voice was almost mournful.

Youll forget me by Wednesday. Thats men for you. So, what shall we toast to, Charles? I was ready to let go now.

Dont you see? To love, Janeto love! He raised his glass.

The following morning, we woke nestled in each others arms. Why did I resist for nearly the whole stay? Why didnt I visit Charless room from the beginning? So much wasted time! Like a schoolgirl, Id fallen in love. But it was time to pack up and head home.

Lily, my roommate, was cryingabsolutely distraught.

Whats wrong, Lily? I ask, concerned.

Im pregnant, Jane. I dont even know who the father is, she sobs.

That coordinator? Or someone else? I try to piece it together.

Im not sure. I met another fellow here, from the house next door. Hes married, Lily admitted openly, trying to figure it out.

Oh Lily, call your parents, get them to come here and sort this out. How did they let you travel alone? I scold kindly. In the meantime, lets go and see the retreat manager. Maybe he can help make sense of things.

Lily dashed off in tears. Such a young girllife will teach her plenty more lessons, Im sure.

I prepared for my journey home, not wanting to leave. Twenty-four days, and everything here had become so dear to meespecially Charles.

The coach arrived. Charles came to see me off, bluebells in hand. Overcome with emotion, I hugged him tightly. That was it. Our fleeting romance, over. My heart ached. Had Charles asked, I might have dropped everything and stayed…

Charles and I lived in different towns. Our only contact was post. Then, a letter arrivednot from Charles but from his wife. She wrote that she knew everything about us, but it was no use since she was only thirty and I was forty. I chose not to reply.

Half a year later, Charles himself turned up out of the blue. My boys were bewildered to see this stranger in our sitting room, but kept their questions to themselves.

Charles? Are you just passing through? I wondered aloud, (wishing he might say he was there to stay).

Not exactly Charles hesitated at the door. Will you have me, Jane?

The boys, embarrassed, slipped away to their room.

Come in. Why are you here? Did your wife send you with another letter? I teased.

Im sorry, Jane. I did write, but my wife found the letter. I confess. Ive left her. Were divorced.

Charles, I never knew you were married. Nothing would ever have happened otherwise. What now?

Lets get married, Jane, Charles said, surprising me.

Im not sure. I have the boys, as you see. How will they take it? I cant make a hasty decision, I hesitated, though I was secretly glad of his offer.

Children are a blessing. I have a ten-year-old daughter, Charles admitted.

A daughter? You left her? I was taken aback.

Not at all, Jane. Ill take her with us. Her mothers started drinking. We could be a proper family, he insisted.

Hang on, Charles. I barely know your daughter and suddenly Im to be her mother? I think youre rushing this. Give me time to think, and Ill talk to my boys. Lets see how things go. Come on, Ill fix you some tea, you smitten groom, I smiled.

Of course, it wasnt a storybook family. We had our rows, storming out and coming back, ups and downseveryone is so very different. Not everyone can back down in an argument.

Time, as always, races on.

My eldest son, Andrew, and Charless daughter, Helen, eventually married, much to everyones surpriseand turned against Charles and me, dredging up all sorts of old grievances. You ruined our families, they said. Charles shouldnt have left his troubled wife. You shouldnt have remarried. They moved out to a rented flat.

Charles and I could only shrug, but our love for one another stayed true.

A year passed.

The prodigal children did not return. Helen would only ring Charles on his birthday.

Three years on, and an invitation came: they wanted us to visit. We were suspicious, but agreed.

Turns out, Helen and Andrew had a baby boythe first grandchild for both Charles and me. Overjoyed, we celebrated together. That evening, Andrew and Helen apologised.

We see it now, they said, theres no predicting what life may bring. One has to learn to forgive. And to honour ones parentsthey gave us life.

They named their son Milesfor peace in the family, they said.

And so, it turns out, Charles and I have our own newly born happiness.