Fate Extended a Hand

Dear Diary,

It seems fate has reached out its hand to me. I grew up in a fairly ordinary household in the little village of Ashbrook. My parents, John Blake and Margaret Blake, seemed to have everything in order at first. By the time I was in Year6, however, I began to notice cracks in the foundation of our family. Both of them fell into drinking, my father first and then my mother. As the years went by, it became clear that I could not pull them out of that mire and set them back on a proper path. They sank deeper and deeper.

The arguments between them often turned on me. I would hide behind the wardrobe in the far corner of the kitchen, trying to stay invisible while they unleashed their anger on each other and on me.

Why is this happening to me? I would sob, pressing my back against the cold wall, hoping they wouldnt see me.

Go fetch a bottle of milk from the shop, my father would bark one night, his voice sharp. I refused, terrified of the dark streets. He threatened to strike if I didnt hurry.

My mothers out of money, go ask Betty next door for a few pounds, my mother would snap, pushing me toward the door.

When I reached the age of sixteen, I started slipping out of the house whenever they were drunk. By Year10 I was no longer afraid of the darkness; I had grown accustomed to it. Id retreat to an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of the village, hide there until dawn, then crawl back, grab my schoolbooks and race to class.

One day I made a promise to myself:

After I finish school Ill get my GCSEs, save every penny, and leave this place. Maybe Ill head for the city and try to get a place at college. Ill have to scrape together a pound here and there, but Ill make it work.

So I began stashing away whatever change I could find, even though it was hard. When I finally received my school certificatefilled with mediocre gradesI slipped a hidden passport and the few pounds I had managed to scrounge into my backpack and left for the town of Riverford. I told no one; there was no one to confide in. I wanted an education, a decent family, a normal lifenot just to survive.

Riverford did not greet me kindly. I found a college and tried to submit my application, only to be told that hundreds of applicants were competing, and with my low grades I was unlikely to be accepted. I had no money for tuition fees either. My hopes crumbled. I sat on a bench at the bus stop, watching a whirlwind of people rush past.

Everyone seems to have a purpose, I thought, theyre all hurrying off to somewhere, while I have nowhere to go. Im almost penniless, and I cant go back homewhat would await me there? Staying here isnt an option either.

I lingered until dusk when a stout, older woman with a small handbag approached me.

Love, why are you sitting out here alone? Ive seen you come and go from the shop. Something wrong? she asked gently.

I have nowhere to go, I whispered, tears spilling. I came from the village hoping to get into college, but they turned me down. My grades are poor, I cant afford tuition, you understand.

Is there anyone here for you? she pressed.

No. I cant go back home; my parents are only thinking about their next drink. Im scared Ill become like them”

Dont cry, dear, she said, smiling. Im Mrs. Thompson, but most call me Mrs. T. I left my own home years ago; my only daughter gave me nothing, so I ended up living in a hostel and working as a cleaner. Come with me; you cant spend the night out here.

I rose, shaky and unsure, but something in her calm made me trust her.

Mrs. T told me a story about her own daughter, a train conductor named Tania, who had met an entrepreneur and begged for money to start a business. Tania sold the family farm, left a small nestegg, and vanished with the man. Mrs. T was left with nothing but a few chickens and a modest garden. A kind soul at the railway station offered her a cleaning job and a bunk in a hostel. I could see something off about you right away, she had said, but Ill look after you.

We arrived at the hostels tiny room where Mrs. T lived. Exhausted, I ate a meagre meal. She promised, Tomorrow morning Ill take you to the café manager near the station. They always need extra hands; youre young, freshfaced, and pretty enough to catch a clients eye. If Anton, the manager, takes you on, youll have a roof over your head and maybe a bit of luck on your side.

I thanked her and fell into a restless sleep, never having been with a boy before.

If only I had known what fate had in store No one can see the future. Yet, the moment I walked into the café, Anton caught my eye. He was cheerful, handsome, and asked me questions that made my cheeks flush. I was instantly smitten.

Anton took me on as a waitress, gave me a small room in the hostel, and started slipping little gifts into my pocketlipstick, mascara, cheap perfume. I was intoxicated by his attention. One evening, after my shift, he said, Hop in the car, love. Ill give you a lift home. My heart raced; I felt cared for for the first time in ages.

Am I finally lucky? I wondered, as I rode with him, the city lights flickering past.

I often returned to the hostel late. One weekend, a young lorry driver named Max stopped by.

Hey, you live here? he asked.

Yes, on the second floor, I replied.

Im Max, from the north, came to the city for work but plan to head back to my village eventually. I havent seen you before. He chatted about towns, villages, and the people hed met on the road, offering sweets whenever he visited. Our friendship stayed just thatfriendship. He understood that I saw only Anton as a love interest.

Anton eventually rented a flat for us to meet in, and I moved out of the hostel to be nearer him. He warned me straight away, Im married, love, but Ill look after you. You wont lack anything. In summer Ill take you to the seaside. I ignored the warning, drowning in his affection. When I discovered I was pregnant, I rushed to tell him.

Anton, I burst, were going to have a baby.

His face turned hard. I told you I have a familytwo children. I dont need another. Take this, he slammed a wad of cash on the table. Leave within three days, or Ill make sure no one ever sees you again. He slammed the door and walked away.

I remembered Mrs. Ts words: many come to the city chasing happiness, but few ever find it. I gathered my things, tossed the key into the postbox, and trudged back to the hostel. Mrs. T comforted me with tea.

Oh, dear, she said, thats the way fate toys with us. Men are often careless. Dont let this break you. Youll have a child, and thats yours. This trial will test you, and perhaps fate will finally lend a helping hand.

Her soothing words lifted a darkness from my heart. As I settled into my room, Max burst in, his face bright.

Evelyn, youre back? he exclaimed, dashing to the kitchen for sweets.

Seeing his excitement, I broke down, pouring my story out. He listened, then said, Stop crying. Hes a scoundrel, and you deserve better. Ill get you some groceries; you just stay put.

He left, locked the door, and returned with bags of food, placing them on the table. Watching him, I recalled Mrs. Ts promise that fate would reach out. It felt true.

Time passed. Max and I settled in his hometown of Willowbrook, bought a modest house, and began rebuilding together. He added a second floor, preparing for the arrival of our daughter, Lily, while our son, Jack, turned three. Life, at last, feels steady and warm.

I still write, because the past still whispers, but I am learning to listen to the present.

Evelyn BlakeNow, as I watch Lily giggle beside Jack, I finally understand that destinys gentle hand has guided me home at last.