Fireworks

They both had their doubts, but Charlotte had never imagined it would end like this…

The whole gang was there, she noticed. Hatted and scarved, their cheeks glowing in the crisp night air. The whole gang minus one, that is. They’d all been in the same class at school, gone their separate ways for a few years, and then returned to the village where they’d been brought up.

Charlotte herself was teaching in the local primary school. Of course, not everyone had come back, but it was surprising how many of them had settled in the area. This town had the best Guy Fawkes celebrations for miles, though, and this evening the gang had all made it, despite it being on a Thursday night.

Together, Charlotte mused, they must look like a sort of ‘life cycle’ illustration: some were married, with small children riding on their fathers’ shoulders; several were newly-weds; then there were the engaged, the hoping-to-be engaged, the definite ‘items’… and her. She was the only one here all alone, she realized.

Daniel had surprised her by being uncharacteristically unenthusiastic about the bonfire. Probably they were all getting a bit old for it, although she privately thought she would never grow out of the sky splitting with rockets, and the combined smell of sulphury fireworks, the smoky bonfire, and slightly burnt sausages. Just the thought made her smile.

She and Daniel had made arrangements to see a movie at the local cinema instead. ‘It will be nice and quiet at the cinema, with the rest of the world getting cold and wet in a muddy field,’ he’d said. And then this morning, he’d phoned her to say he had to work late.

‘DANIEL LOOKED UP AND MET CHARLOTTE’S EYES, THEN WALKED OFF IN THE OTHER DIRECTION’