The Legend of Kettleby-Wharton

"Are you sure this is the place?" 
 
Jackie checked the satnav on her phone. "It says so." 
 
No wonder the owner had been so surprised when they insisted on renting the place for a week. The 'English country garden' and the 'off-road parking' appeared to be the same nettle-covered patch. 
 
The 'key safe' turned out to be a piece of string through the letter box, but Mrs Evans had assured them over and over that there was no crime here.
 
Thankfully, the inside was - more or less - habitable. Only one of the two bedrooms was made up, but that was okay. They only needed one. The bathroom and kitchen were clean and the living room was everything they had hoped for. 
 
It was at the back of the house and the floral three-seater sofa faced sliding glass doors with a view over the countryside. The perfect place to relax and watch the wildlife. 
 
Even if their plan didn't work, they would create some precious memories for Tom when... 
 
They curled up together, steaming black coffees and a plate of slightly stale digestives on the coffee table in front of them. They had bought the coffee and a cafetiere with them - just as well, there was no sign of a coffee maker in the kitchen - but Mrs Evans had left the biscuits as a welcome gift. 
 
Tom carefully opened the book they had found in the second-hand shop in Haye on Wye, and turned to their favourite chapter.

The Legend of Kettleby-Wharton

 
It was the age-old tale of boy meets girl, boy's family decides girl is not good enough for him and boy defies family.
 
It was a crisp February day when 16-year-old Henry Jameson of Kettleby Hall met 15-year-old Maggie Foster, the farmer's daughter. It was love at first sight. He fell for her rosy cheeks and infectious giggle; she fell for his baby face features and impious sense of humour. 
 
He waited for her every morning while she fed the pigs and then they would roam the country lanes together - until somebody saw them and suggested to Lord and Lady Jameson that they might want to watch the company their son was keeping. 
 
He didn't stop seeing Maggie but after that they used to hide in the hayloft. He taught her to read and write and she taught him to milk a cow. 
 
Somehow, their secret was discovered again and on the day Maggie told Henry she was expecting his child, Lord and Lady Jameson announced the engagement of their son to Miss Millicent Wharton a second cousin of Lady Jameson who Henry had never met.
 
A year to the day after they met, Maggie brought their son into the world, but the labour was too much for her young body and it was clear she wasn't going to live for much longer. A priest was called who performed a secret marriage ceremony and then remained in the house to perform the last rites sometime later. 
 
Only hours after becoming a mother and a wife, Maggie passed away. Before she died however she made a vow. Clasping Henry's hand, she promised she would wait for him - always. For as long as the world turned and the sun shone she would see him forever on this day, and this she swore on the head of her newborn son. 
 
Henry reluctantly married Millicent, but legend says that on 14th of February every year, inside the old farmer's cottage at Kettleby-Wharton, past and present collide for 24 hours and Maggie and Henry are reunited.

Tom's eyes met Jackie's. "Two days from now and we'll know." 
 
She nodded and he noticed how much paler she looked and how much deeper the lines around her eyes were. This had to work...
 
"You stay here and I'll find a suitable place," he whispered, tucking a blue and blanket around her shoulders.
 
"Under the bed," he told her an hour later, as he tucked into buttered crumpets and Jackie nibbled a slice of dry toast. "There's a loose floorboard." 
 
She attempted a smile. "If this doesn't work..."
 
"It will!"
 
"But if it doesn't, know that I will love you forever." 
 
A year to the day they met, Jackie and Tom awoke in the rented cottage to the muffled sound of voices in the kitchen. The ghosts, if that's what they were, spotted them and seemed curious. Tom noticed them staring a few times, but they didn't seem able to interact with one another. 
 
The day passed in a comfortable camaraderie despite the silence until evening fell and they all retired to the living room.
 
Henry held the dying Maggie in his arms and Tom held the dying Jackie in his. Maggie's parents were in and out of the room checking on Henry and Maggie and taking turns to rock the baby. They all looked at each other sympathetically. 
 
Just before midnight Henry and the Foster family seemed to become more solid. Jackie reached out to them. "Let me stay," she pleaded. 
 
Henry nodded and reached out to her.
 
The following morning, Tom woke all alone in the bedroom of the rented cottage. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he sobbed so hard he could barely breathe.
 
"Oh Jackie, I miss you."
 
 Climbing out of bed he felt for the loose floorboard underneath and as he prised it up, he found a handwritten letter. 
 
My Dear Tom,
 
"It worked! Mr and Mrs Foster are letting me spend the last few days of my life in Maggie's bedroom. I feel myself getting weaker and I believe I only have a few more days. We were denied the lifetime together that we wanted in our own time, but this way, we can have a whole day together once a year.
 
Tell Mrs Evans you want to rebook the cottage and I will see you again this time next year.
 
I love you with all my heart and I will wait for you - always.
 
Jackie