Family Matters and Other Short Stories: Short Stories, #3

By Gail Crane

Coffee break stories for lovers of women's fiction.

 

 

The Best Man - Two young airmen fall for the same girl.

Love is a two-Way Street - A couple realise that marriage requires some give and take.

The Letter - A letter from a stranger turns a woman's life upside down.

Gran's Surprise - Gran misses her life on the farm and the Day Centre is no substitute.

Missing Mum - A young girl and a foal have both lost their mothers.

The Meeting - A woman finally agrees to meet the man she has been writing to, but how will it affect their families?

Family Matters - A woman has to choose between her home and her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aller Books
• Release date: Feb 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393772101

Gail Crane

Gail Crane writes romance novels and short stories inspired by the Exmoor countryside where she lives. She is a member of The Alliance of Independent Authors and The Romantic Novelists Association and in 2014, she completed a BA degree with Open University, studying creative writing and children's literature. When not writing or reading, she enjoys walking and gardening, and is addicted to crosswords.

Book preview

The Best Man

I looked at the two young airmen sitting with me round the table. Jack, the flyer, fun-loving extrovert, never happier than when he was in the air. Pete, the quiet mechanic whose idea of heaven was an oily aircraft engine in need of repair. Then there was me, Claire, part-time general dogsbody in the NAAFI, working my way through college.

We were an unlikely trio of friends. Jack and I had met a year ago, literally bumped into each other in the NAAFI shop, and through him I'd met Pete. Even though we were all so different our friendship had blossomed and occasionally I even found myself daydreaming about something more than friendship.

Pete raised his glass in a toast.

'Cheers, Jack. I'll think of you enjoying all that lovely Bahrain sun and sea while we freeze over here.'

Jack laughed. 'I'll try not to feel too sorry for you. I'll send you a post card.'

'Me, too I hope,' I added.

'Of course. How could I forget the love of my life?' Jack joked.

'Hey, steady on,' Pete said. 'Who said anything about her being yours?'

I grinned. It was just light-hearted banter. They were always ragging each other. 'Don't I get any choice in this?' I asked.

'None at all.' Jack was more than slightly tipsy by now and he pushed back his chair and stood up brandishing an imaginary sword. 'We'll fight for her.'

'Idiot.' Laughing, I tried to pull him back into his seat but he was having none of it. Pete and I glanced at each other, eyes raised, shaking our heads.

'Come on, Pete,' he challenged. 'Choose your weapon and may the best man win!'

Funny how some things stick in your mind, isn't it? How, years later you can suddenly remember them.

*

'Goodness, what a lot of stuff!'

My heart sinks as we climb into the loft and I look around.

Jack gives me his I-told-you-so look. 'Claire, I've been telling you for months we should tackle it,' he says, 'but you will keep putting it off.'

It's true. I'm a hoarder, but the loft is full of memories. My life in boxes. Love letters, photos of my children, Ian and Matt, as babies then growing up through school and college, weddings, grandchildren's births. Happy times and sad ones all neatly packed. Cards and pictures lovingly created at playgroups, school reports and exam results. How can I throw any of this away?

But I need to sell the house. Only then can we move on.

I pick a box at random and find a bundle of letters, ancient and dog-eared from much reading. The years roll back. 'Do you really want to get rid of things like this?' I ask.

Jack peers over my shoulder. 'You haven't still got those? After all this time?'

'Of course.' I slide a letter from its envelope and with it comes a photograph of Jack in RAF uniform. 'Remember this?'

Jack looks. 'Bahrain. I missed you like crazy.'

'I missed you, too.'

'I hadn't realised until then how much you meant to me. I remember thinking I couldn't live without you.'

'Your very words.' I search the pages and find where he'd written, My darling Claire.... I can't live without you. Please marry me as soon as I get back.

Jack looks uncomfortable. 'A bit over the top, but I did mean it, you know.'

'I know. But we were too young. I didn't want to be a forces wife left behind in quarters while you travelled the world and you would have been miserable if you couldn't fly. We both needed time. We were right to wait.' I lean across and kiss his cheek. 'There's plenty more. Do you want to see?'

'Absolutely not.' He throws up his hands in mock horror. 'That's quite enough embarrassment for one day. Let's get on with the job.'

The next box contains the children's school books. I find a diary written by a six-year-old Matt. I flick through it, amused by his childish ramblings. 'What an imagination children have,' I say. 'Talk about exaggeration. Look at this.'

Jack's face creases with smiles as he reads. 'I never did that,' he exclaims.

'I'm afraid you did. Though maybe not quite as colourfully as Matt suggests.'

'There should be a law against school diaries,' he jokes. 'They're probably responsible for no end of marriage break-ups.'

Leaning head to head, reading Matt's interpretation of family life, we begin to chuckle. A crayon picture of Jack and Pete with outrageous hairdos and manic smiles reduces us to helpless laughter.

We had all stayed such good