‘What if She Says Yes?’

Last Saturday, I threw down a challenge, because Jude, featured below, was one of those who suggested it: to write a story, up to 100 words long, that addressed the question posed here:

Unsurprisingly, there haven’t been many entries. But what I have read have been class acts. There’s Jude’s clever, and very different story: https://traveltalk.me.uk/2025/07/24/but-what-if-she-says-yes/

And Dawn addresses the age old problem of when, or even if to pop the question: https://lingeringvisions.wordpress.com/2025/07/23/what-if-she-says-yes/.

Here’s mine: But hang on. Before you read Jude’s, or Dawn’s, or mine, make yourself comfortable on this bench. It is after all Sunday, and the day for Jude’s Bench Challenge.

What if she said ‘yes’?

Nell sat slumped against the stairs, leaning into the comfort of her neighbour.  ‘He always drank too much, your dad.’ Her father lay twisted at the bottom—eyes open, unmoving.  The investigators stepped gently round the body and its ooze of blood.  ‘He fell’, Nell said. Only she knew about the bruises beneath her sweater, her sore and aching thighs.  Only she knew whether what had happened just an hour ago was an accident or an escape.  Only she knew what she’d say when at last they ask her: ‘Or …did you push him?’ What if she says ‘yes’?

I wrote two others too, but the judge and jury (‘im indoors and me) chose this one. You can judge the other two if you want to: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PS8t-YsNfiLTwE27WqY9UxVotxIbO1LO6CtHf3OaU40/edit?usp=sharing

PS. A late, great addition to the clutch of flash fiction, from Rebecca of Fake Flamenco:

What if She Says Yes?

When the wallpaper in the downstairs hall began to peel in the heat, I didn’t think it odd. Our house needs repair often after a century of Tiverstons. I bought a bottle of papering adhesive. As I sanded the wall before re-glueing, newsprint appeared in the lower corner. Using an exacto knife, I liberated the sheet. The headline about an Edna Swargle chilled my blood and I stopped breathing a moment. The woman in the photo looked just like mom as a teenager, but her name is Nancy. I walked upstairs where she was reading. “Mom, were you ever, Edna?”

The featured photo is not my own, but squared from an unattributed image found in Pexels, a great source of Royalty free images.

For Becky’s #SimplyRed.

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Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can.

67 thoughts on “‘What if She Says Yes?’”

  1. When I opened your post I thought I’d come to Krakatoa or an erupting volcano somewhere, Margaret. Then that quiet little bench leading up to a bloody ending. You’ve been reading too many detective stories. Happy Sunday! xx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I know what you mean. I needed a ‘red’ square that was just, well, red. No happy Sunday here. M unwell, and rain about to start. Hope your is better xx

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      1. Oh dear! Hope it’s nothing serious, and that the rain holds off. It’s my daughter-in-laws birthday and they’re planning a picnic xx

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  2. Ooh, yours is a dark one. Best she keeps her trap shut I think.

    Nice little bench though and next to a red hydrangea – you could have squared it! Hope M feels better soon.

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  3. Oh, well done with the story…. I’ve read yours and Jude’s so far, Talented people! and that’s quite a sky!!

    On another note, you will be laughing because sometimes I have to use the microphone rather than typing, I was Muttering to myself, And a few expletives appeared in my comment oops had to get rid of that fast

    I hope Malcolm makes a quick recovery, And speak next week

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  4. Quite the cliff-hanger, as the photo suggested it should be! I reckon Nell should keep quiet, but maybe someone would work it out?

    I see from the comments that Malcolm isn’t well. I hope he makes a quick recovery. Sx

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      1. What if She Says Yes?

        When the wallpaper in the downstairs hall began to peel in the heat, I didn’t think it odd. Our house needs repair often after a century of Tiverstons. I bought a bottle of papering adhesive. As I sanded the wall before re-glueing, newsprint appeared in the lower corner. Using an exacto knife, I liberated the sheet. The headline about an Edna Swargle chilled my blood and I stopped breathing a moment. The woman in the photo looked just like mom as a teenager, but her name is Nancy. I walked upstairs where she was reading. “Mom, were you ever, Edna?”

        Liked by 2 people

  5. Margaret, Oh my Edna! Chilling. I read the post on Sunday and I suppose in the craziness of a full house on a Sunday at the lake I got distracted and didn’t finish. All of the stories were amazing and especially the update! Oh my!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, I’m SO glad! I knew you were interested so was disappointed when nothing materialised. Thanks for joining in. But the link doesn’t work. It says nothing can be found ….😒

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  6. Oh man, Margaret, both of your versions are a twist onto the dark side! Then, two family identity ones in different directions. Mine sadly is not fiction but rather reality.

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