A Moments Weakness
Sarah hurried down the station steps, her shoes crunching golden maple leaves scattered along the pavement. Past the iron fences, she left behind the silent, abandoned railway platform at the end of the line, the two market stands, and the laughter drifting from old Tom and the Smiths selling glossy cucumbers, plump as the Queens Guard, ripe tomatoes like rubies, peppers streaked with emerald veins, walnuts, and fresh herbs tumbled into plastic bags.
Sarah! Good afternoon to you! Take some for your supper, do! Tom called, beaming, waving his hand, before offering a big bunch of dill.
Sarah was a teacher, and each summer she lived in a small wooden house here, on the fringe of Winchester, tending dahlias, daisies, peonies, and lilies. Good Lord, her lilies were a wonder! And the apple treesplanted by her great-grandfather, they still bore splendid fruit every year.
Her husband, David, and their son, Michael, would visit most weekends. David worked in London, and Michael, already grown at twenty-one, drifted back and forth, noisy yet helpfulnever forgetting his mum.
Sarah generally bought her groceries with David at her side. Hed stand apart, smoking, while she picked over the stands, chattering with Tom, laughing that sweet, girlish laugh of hers. You couldnt help but think she was the happiest woman alive.
After a while, David would approach, lips pursed, inspecting the veg with a scowl.
How much? hed grunt, pushing aside Toms kindly-offered lemon. Tom always saved a treat for the regulars, but David was too suspiciousafraid hed be made to pay extra for a gift.
How much for the lot? he repeated.
Sarah coloured, embarrassed by her husbands brusqueness with such a good man.
David, let me pay, love, just take the bags in, shed murmur, fumbling for her purse, counting out pounds and pence.
Such a lovely woman, that Sarah, and her husband doesnt treat her right! What a shame Tom would cluck, watching them walk away.
Sarah climbed along with the cucumbers and potatoes. David shrugged on the string bag filled with strawberries and tomatoes, swinging it so the fruit pounded his back.
Hell ruin the berries, that one, Tom would mutter, whats the world coming to?
Sarah and David had been married for years. Their son, Michael, was now living his own life, although he still lodged with his parents, as is often the way.
Their home life was peaceful. Some might call it monotonous, but Sarah found comfort in the routine: returning early, fussing about, preparing supper for her two men. Theyd eat in silence, nodding approval if satisfied; if the meal failed, Michael would sigh, and David would shove away his plate.
Im not eating this, Sarah, chuck it out! hed say. But seeing her gloom, hed soften a touch:
Happens to everyone, love. Mustve been bad meat. Market’s full of chancers these days. Dont fret about it!
Hed even pat her back awkwardly, a clumsy attempt at comfort. Sarah would sigh, smile, and carry on.
Shall I do you eggs then? shed suggest, trying to keep things smooth.
Hed nod, requesting it in the living room.
Im knackered today, love, just want to put my feet up and watch the telly, hed say, stretching out on the sofa.
Sarah didnt mind waiting on himnot like in their early days, of course, when love was sharper and life more adventurous. Now, things had softened, stilled. But love still lived there, in its small, steady way. Their son’s future mattered; hers could wait.
That day, Sarah had to leave work in a rush, arranging cover to hurry back to Winchester. Her neighbour, Mrs. Brown, had phoned, fraught, explaining that water was gushing in her garden, and she couldnt find how to shut it off.
Theres a stopcock by the gate, the one with the red butterfly handle, Sarah whispered anxiously, glancing at her colleagues in the staff room. Please, could you look? I cant leave school, you see
Sorry, Sarah. Youll have to come. I cant tend to others’ pipes, and the windows been left open toowhat if someone broke in? And Mrs. Brown hung up.
Sarah tried in vain to reach her husband, taught two more lessons, then persuaded a friend to cover, and dashed to the station.
How quiet Winchester is in autumn! The summer renters gone; no more radio blaring, no mowers, no jolly guests. Only distant hammering as someone hurries to finish a roof before the frost, and the sweet, sharp smell of burning leaves.
She paused, admiring the clusters of red rowan berries and the shrunken rosehips looking like miniature pomegranates, then pressed on. Amid the overgrown hawthorn, her powder-blue cottage appeared, fretwork white trim shining, porch slightly askew, the water barrel by the step. Strangely, the kitchen window was indeed open, blue curtain flapping in the breeze.
Did I forget to close it? I mustve rushed in all the commotion she thought, then searched her memory for the toolbox. If the tap was broken, shed have to repair it, unless she shut the water off entirelythough then what about the greenhouse? David had installed an automatic system, so long as there was water
With these thoughts, Sarah walked up to the gate. In the open garage, her husbands car was parked. She meant to call out, hesitated, then tiptoed up, eyes searching. Suddenly, she froze, flinched as if struck, her jaw clenched so tight it hurt, lips pressed raw. Without a word she turned away, head down, a storm of misery washing over her.
She couldnt remember how she reached the station, bought her ticket, or boarded the train to London. In the Underground crowds, words swirled around hershe heard nothing.
Mum! Mum, Im home! Michael called, dumping his keys and shopping bag. Ive bought everything! Should I put it in the fridge?
Sarah stood in the bathroom, the whirl of the washing machine almost drowning out the rush of tears as she cleaned her face with biting, chlorinated water.
Michael darling, I finished early, popped into the hairdressers, then came home Are you hungry? Ill heat up dinner. Did you get bread? And
She babbled, forced laughter in her words, and turned away so he wouldnt see. But Michael could always tell. He watched her face, persistent, refusing to be brushed aside. Even when Sarah tried to seem carefree, her troubles scratched beneath her smile. Hed gather her up in a bear hughe always sensed when the world was falling in on her.
Please let him know nothing. How could she tell him the truth? She couldnt. Absolutely not.
Meanwhile, Michael loaded the bread on the table.
Mum, are you alright?
Me? I just came home early, washed up, thats all. Sit down, Ill serve dinner.
She ruffled his hair, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
Her perfume lingered above the clean scent of soap, but her eyes were heartbreakingly sad.
The dills spot-on, just like Toms from the market! Michael crunched a sprig, studying his mother as she untied her apron and straightened her hair before sitting down.
Everythings the same in the market, love. Eat up, or your cutlets will go cold. Please!
Whens Dad back? Ive got to ask him about the motorbike. Mr. White down the road promised me his old one, and I need Dads advice.
Your father? Hes at work, I expect. Hell come when he comes, Sarah replied absentmindedly, setting the kettle to boil and suddenly growing faint, as she often did these dayshigh blood pressure, perhaps.
Mum, are you alright? Youre swaying! Sit down. That job of yours is running you ragged! How late did you stay up last night? Dont think I didnt hear youit was three in the morning! You always tell me to rest, but you never do yourself. Whats the point of all this? The marking, the sacrifices? Mum, answer me!
He scolded her just as Granny Margaret used to. On one of her visits, shed seen an exhausted Sarah working two shifts at school and had scolded her, David, and even three-year-old Michael for his shirt stains and scattered toys. Now Granny was gone, but her voice lingered in Michaels head.
Im not saying nothing, Michael. Im eating, see? Thanks for the tea. Shall we go away for Christmas this year? Somewhere warm?
He froze, his teacup halfway to his mouth.
What? Weve always spent the holidays at the cottagehomes where the heart is, isnt it? he mumbled, popping another sweet in his mouthhed always been a terrible sweet tooth.
Granny Margaret used to tell him off for it, but his other gran, Granny Dorothy, always brought bags of toffees just to see him smile. His grannies would bicker, and the men would sigh; what could you expect with just one grandson between them?
I dont want the cottage this year. Lets find a cosy guest house, book somewhere, nice and comfortable, Sarah suggested, sipping her tea.
Michael always watched her drink her teathere was something impossibly reassuring in it. Her lightweight dressing gown, dainty slippers with daisies, the blue-and-white teacup from the china set. Her slender, careful fingers curled round the handle as she brought it to her lips and smiled, and all would be wellat least in his world.
But not today.
Off you go, love, Ill clear up. Go rest. Sarah bustled around the kitchen, nearly shooing him out the door.
He didnt notice the doorbell, or his mothers conversationher muffled anger. He drifted into restless sleep, missing it all.
David returned after nine, banging the door, shoes left askew, yawning into the hallway mirror.
Sarah, Michael, anyone home? Whys nobody here to greet me? he roared, tripping over Michaels boots as he headed for the kitchen, where the light was still burning and Sarah stood making porridge.
Hello! he barked, dropping into a chair, whats for dinner?
Sarah started, turning down the hob.
Hello, David. Youre late. I rang and rang
Got held up at the officemeeting ran over, then got called in for an hour by the big bosshe can never just sign things off! Sometimes I wonder how these idiots ever get promoted! he grumbled, already tucking into his plate.
Who do you think should get the job then? Sarah asked, a dry note in her voice.
He nearly chokedsuch self-evident questions!
Sarah, are you alright? he asked.
I went to the cottage today.
What about it? We were there Sunday, werent we? Im not making another trip, too busy at work, new project on
Not Sunday. Today. I saw you therewith her. David, how could you? Thats my familys housemy grans. And you You couldnt have gone anywhere else? Suddenly, she grabbed a dishcloth, as though shed hit him, but simply wiped the table instead. I want you to leave, David. Tonight.
He looked stunned. How had she gotten there? During the week, when she was meant to be at school? Hed taken her cottage keys the day before, called Helen, told her to pack a few thingsHelen didnt know the way. It was his cottage after all, wasnt it? So much work, sweat, replacing the floors, plumbing, building the new fenceit belonged to him now. Not Sarah.
But shed caught him out. Now what?
What are you talking about, Sarah? Meleave? Why? What did you see at your precious cottage?! he slammed his fist.
I saw enough. You know, the porch is clearly visible from the gate. Youll eat now, pack your bags, and tell Michael yourself why youre leaving. Youll explain. Yourself Sarah turned towards the window, dark outside, her own wan reflection visible as she watched his face crumple.
Whats the big deal? So I saw someone. So what? Its all a load of fuss! You got jealous? I just gave Helen a bag of bulbs, thats all!
I saw exactly how you handed them over. Helen, you say? Whats so remarkable about her? Tell me, whats missing here? Sarah snapped, crashing her plate onto the floor. David flinched, pulling his legs up like a scolded schoolboy. Everything for youalways, just as you like! We even did your paperwork here, so youd feel settled. Michael and I skulk around so as not to disturb you, poor tired man! Your mother visits every weekend, criticising everything I donothings ever right! Should I tell her why youre so pale these days, David? Call her, so shes ready for her new daughter-in-law? I doubt your Helen will nurse you through sickness, feed you broth, or keep up with your whinging the way I have. How could you bring her into our home, where Michael grew up? I loathe you! Absolutely loathe you!
She threw another platethe smash almost made her smile, watching him tense, fearful.
Sarah! Sweetheart, dont! David rose, reaching out, but Sarah pulled away. Please, its nothing, really! Im a man, you know, sometimes you need affection, but youre always so tirednever a hint of tenderness Let me explain. You have to understand, its just Well, nature. But I only ever loved you, youmy dear. Helens just a bit of fun, reallyher minds as airy as a henhouse! Shes nothing like you. Her cookings awfulmy insides felt on fire after her pancakes! Ill see shes sacked from workhonestly, Ill talk to the boss. Shes not fit for our team, honestly! So theres nothing for you to worry about. I love you! Just make me a cup of tea, please?
He picked up her dainty cupblue with a gold rimto hand to her, but someone burst into the kitchen, shrieking, fists pounding his back.
The cup slipped from his hands, smashed on the floor. Behind him stood Helen, mascara streaked, furious, a witchy sight.
What are you doing here?! David muttered.
She came to take you from us, David. Told me herselfsaid you love her, and Im a burden. That you and shell be happy, while I just have age and the sickroom ahead. So go, both of you! Sarah whispered, on the verge of collapse.
Helen screeched, clawing at David, who shrank from her nailschairs toppled, until Michael and neighbour Mr. Lewis arrived, ushering both Helen and David into the hallway. Michael packed his fathers things into a large holdall and tossed it onto the stairs.
Helen had already left, tears for her friend, not for David. And David waited on the landing, defeated.
Hand over the car keys, Michael demanded.
Walk! Youre so young now, right? Michael retorted, slamming the door.
Then he sat down beside his mum. She slumped awkwardly, legs outstretched, like a broken puppet, silent tears falling onto Michaels big hands.
Mum, hey Mum, youre the best, the very best! I love you so much, Ill never let you down, mum! Please dont cry. Why didnt you tell me? Who was that woman? I missed everything
Helen had left the cottage early, after glimpsing Sarahs bewildered, heartbroken face at the gate. She felt sure winning David would be easy, convinced he loved her, sure a promotion and marriage would follow. But suddenly, she quailed at the realitySarah, firm and capable, the true schoolmarm, while Helen was only twenty-seven and profoundly unsure.
She found Sarahs address, turned up with a cake in hand, and rushed in. Sarah welcomed her politely, the kitchen clean and bright, whereas Helen rented a single room from a stingy old lady who charged the earth.
Will you give him to me, then? Helen asked, after a lengthy conversation.
Sarah gripped the curtain, biting the inside of her cheek till she tasted blood.
Of course. Hes no goat to be tied to my shed. But I should warn you she stopped, as David arrived, inviting Helen to sit in the next room until all three of them could talk things through.
Mum, why are you so sad? Michael pressed his face into her hair, breathing in her familiar scent.
Michael, darling, I Im going to have a baby. I only found out recently. Im too old, yes, but I want this child. I already love them. I just need you with me for a little whileuntil the babys born. Im not sure how to go on, but Ill manage. I promise. You… youre all I have now.
Michaels jaw dropped. He grinned and then whistled soft and low.
Ill have a brother?! he asked.
Why not a sister? I always wanted a daughter, butwell, will you be alright if shes a girl? Sarah asked softly.
Hed be over the moon. All his friends had siblings, and it was brilliant, really.
Sarah left hospital with the baby in late May. Michael came in his suithed even had a haircutnervous, flowers in hand, to welcome mum and his new sister.
As she appeared, walking slowly and tenderly holding the bundle, Michael thrust the flowers at the nearest nurse, then looked at his mum.
I love you, mum, he said, staring at the cross little bundle in her arms. The baby squeaked and watched him. Thats when a new kind of love was bornraw and wild and loud, filled with bickering and laughter, but strong as oak. Thats how Michael and little Wendy began their life as siblings. If one love ends, another must begin.
I love you too, son. Hold Wendy for me, will you? Sarah asked.
Michael hesitated, but plucked up the courage to hold his sister. He winked at her, but she turned aside.
She doesnt like me, mum
She does. Shes just shy, Sarah smiled. Come, lets go home.
Granny Dorothy was waiting for them, house sparkling, fridge full, ready for anything. Sarah let her stayWendy needed a granny. The future would sort itself out in time.
David visited a few times after the divorce, asked to come back, then moved to Birmingham. He sent money for Wendy, but Michael always kept him at arms length, fists ready if needed. David didnt push the pointhed live his own life, convinced Sarah would come running if he ever fell ill, not realising Sarah was stronger now. He fancied himself Gods gift, sure theyd take him back one day.
Every New Year, David promised himself they would. So far, its never happened.
I have learned that trust and love arent just about habit or comfort. Sometimes, we must find the strength to move on and make room for new hopeseven if the first step is taken in the dark.
