Who Knows Where the Beckoning River of Fate Will Bend
For the past month, Edward had wandered about their terraced house in Oxford with a faraway look in his eyes, growing ever more distant from his wife, Mabel. She watched him as she brewed the evening tea and brooded to herself:
He must be unwell, certainly unwell, and hell be forty-five soon, with his milestone birthday just around the corner. I ought to drag him to see Dr. Cartwrighthes an old friendhave him run some tests, maybe even an ECG. Really, its not to be left.
Mabel confided her worries to her closest friend, Helen, sharing speculations over damp teacups one morning, when Helen, quite out of the blue, declared:
My Colin, you know, when he fell in lovetook up with some other womanwell, he moped around just like that.
Oh, dont be ridiculous, Helen. You cant compare your Colin to my Edward, Mabel tutted, waving a hand.
And why not? What makes your Edward so much better than my Colin?
Thats just it, hes not. Colins the charmerrolling stones, always flirting, right? But Edward? He can barely string two words together. I was the one who proposed to him, imagine! If I hadnt packed up and moved in with him after we started dating, hed probably still be a bachelor, dithering about on Sunday mornings.
The previous year, Helen had found her Colin with another woman. Mabel advised her, over lemon drizzle cake, to throw him out, focus on herselftake a course, learn salsa, get a hobby, not drown in white wine and tearsbut Helen hurled herself into pubs and hairdressers, flirting madly and lopping off her hair, telling everyone, Just fancied a new look. Mabel recoiled in horror. That wasnt what she had meant at all.
But in the end, Helen forgave Colin. Mabel could scarcely understand it.
I could never forgive Edward in the same way, she mused.
Edward and Mabel had been married almost twenty-six years, enough for two grown sonsHenry at twenty-three and George at twenty-oneto have left school and come back again. They had weathered storms, planned for a tranquil autumntime to mark a birthday, gather the extended family at a nice café down on the high street, surprise Edward with the details after the fact.
Their marriage began as many doawkward and unlikely. Theyd met on a rambling society walking holiday in Derbyshire, studying at different colleges but living in the same city. The spark struck beside the campfire; she, at first, bashful, then growing closer until she darned his shirt after he caught it on brambles. He, wordless, would carry her pack through boggy fields, until their friendship sidestepped into love. Mabel took the leadshe confessed first, then he shyly responded:
Mabel, I think Im in love too.
Good, then. Lets get a flat together and pop round to register at the town hall, he had no objections.
So Mabel packed up and moved in with Edward and his kindly Nan Dorothy, to everyones great relief, especially Edwards father, who always worried about Nan. Edwards mother didnt speak to her mother-in-lawold woundsand refused to help care for her, so the tender-hearted grandson had moved in when Nans health began to fail. Now Mabel did the caring.
Edward love, your Mabels a marvelpractical, gets everything done, just the wife for you. Once youre married, Ill sign the house over to you, old Nan would say. Just look after her.
They married, Nan passed away, sons were born in quick succession, and life, in its gentle British way, muddled on. They holidayed in Cornwall, the Lake District, even Spain once or twicenever dull, never idle. The days passed, but of late Edward had seemed lost. Hed made one odd remark, saying:
I suppose lifes gone by, Mabel, and maybe we never really saw anything good in it, did we?
Mabel was indignant.
What nonsense, Edward! Weve been on holiday every yearCornwall, the seaside, the Peaks, St. Ives, even Mallorca that time. Raised two fine lads, and soon enough, well have grandchildren underfoot.
Thats not what I meant, he waved a hand, falling silent, giving her an odd, faraway look which she brushed aside.
Her own plans whisked along.
Edward, what about inviting Peter and Susan from Cambridge for your birthday? Still friends, even if theyre up north now.
Birthday? Edward blinked.
Your forty-fifth, darling, thats what I said. Well go out to Olive & Thyme, have everyone round. All sorted.
Oh? And when did we settle all this, again the strange searching look.
Now, for three hours, Mabel sat alone on the sofa, staring into the paisley carpettears not quite falling.
Never thought Id end up like this, she whispered to her own reflection in the blank television.
Edward came home early from workodd, since the last year and a half, hed always been late. She was so used to being alone.
Hello, he said, sitting in the kitchen, not even relieving his tweed jacket.
Edward, take your coat off and wash your hands. Dinners nearly ready, she called in her usual tone.
But Edward sat in silence, head bowed.
Mabel, Im leaving you. Im sorry, he said softly.
What do you mean, leaving? Where will you go? Come off it, take your jacket off, youre just tiredyou need to see Dr. Cartwright, her tone faltered but she pressed on.
Edward raised his head and met her gaze.
Theres nothing wrong with me. Its not the doctor. Mabel, Ive fallen in love. Ive been seeing someone in my departmenttwo years now.
Youve found some young girl, then? Mabel searched his face, sharp as the wind on the moors.
No, shes not younger, just different Not pretty by most standards. But shesshes a real woman, Mabel.
And what am I then, Edward? Mabels voice trembled.
You? He shook his head as though clearing away cobwebs. Youre likelike my keeper, and Im your well-behaved spaniel. I cant take a step without you. You decide everythingwhat I wear, where we go, what I eat. You hand out my pocket money, you run the show. Not even allowed to watch the football or grab a pint, because you say theres nothing good there. But I love football.
I’m only trying to do what’s best for you, Mabel tried to explain, but Edward stopped her.
Every penny I earn, I put into your hands. You decide, you dole out cigarette and coffee money. Have you ever considered how belittling that is? I can’t even have a pint with the lads after workalways short of cash. He spoke as he always didsteady, quiet.
Mabel knelt, peering into his eyes.
Edward, weve always done it this way. Why are you rebelling now? Fine, Ill give you your own spending money. Well go out togetherfootball, the pub, the shopsIll let you buy anything you like.
But Edward only watched her, his eyes distant.
You still dont understand, he raised his voice, so rare for him. I want to breathe, Mabel. I want to choose my own dinner, my own shirts. I dont have a single space to myself, not a moment to think. You push your wants onto me, and I never resistbut everything ends, eventually. I feel powerless, likelike youre my guardian and Im not fit to choose.
She permits me to court her
God, Edward, and the other woman isnt like this? Mabel said bitterly.
No, she isnt. She lets me be a man, and a strange light shone in his eyes. She lets me look after her, she lets me feelI dont know, alive, Mabel.
Mabel had never seen her husband like thatanimated, younger, astir with some old energy. She saw, suddenly, that he truly loved this other woman. The way hed loved her, long ago.
But its not right, not at our age. He should be ashamed, she thought. She said aloud, Edward, youre throwing away our life for a whim. What will people say? We were the ideal coupleeveryone knows that.
People? Who cares about peoplewhat ideal?
Mabel saw it was no use. Hed staged a rebellion, and she couldnt do a thing. The tears finally brimmed and shimmered at last.
Mabel, youre crying? he sounded surprised.
She wrapped her arms around him, but he gently peeled them away, walked to the bedroom, packed a small suitcase, and left.
Mabel sat in silence, the soft hush of lamplight settling around her.
Who could have imagined? The winding river of fate has left me, once a respectable married woman, alone on the bank, with only old age ahead. Alone in the dusk.
She rang Helen, who rushed over to console her with wine and soft words.
Come now, Mabelwhy so grim? Remember how you talked me into trying evening classesI never needed them, did I? Colin came back, with hat in hand, his affair just a fling. They always return, Mabel. Yours might, tooEdwards not exactly a dashing Colin, but perhaps
Deep inside, Helen doubted it. Edward was not the type to come back.
No, Helen, Edwards left for good. He said what he said. I know him, Mabel whispered.
After Helen left, Mabel sat alone, staring at her knees, lost as the garden sparrows in November. Who to fuss over now? Who to order about? She would have to grow used to solitude. Or perhaps, just perhaps, something would changewho could say how the river of fate would twist again? Perhaps, gently, it might draw her to a new shore.
