The Green Pencil
Twelve weeks. Maybe ten.
What do you mean, twelve weeks? Jenny stopped rubbing the gel from her stomach with a tissue and looked up.
Pregnancy, of course, Jenny. Youre the doctor, arent you? Havent you realised whats going on?
What are you talking about? I cant be pregnant!
Why not?
Im not married. Not anymore. And I, Jenny trailed off. Could it be?
She closed her eyes for a split second, trying to shake off the feeling that this was all some horrible, energy-sapping nightmare. That sense of panic that makes you feel as if youll never break free. Her fingertips tingled, same as always when she got too anxious, and Jenny opened her eyes. No. She wouldnt let herself go into meltdown, there was no need for that. Mum would never have approved. She would have said Jenny was, as always, a classic ostrich on Tarmac.
She pictured that little sketch Mum had drawn for her years ago, which used to hang above Jennys desk: a big-eyed, comical ostrich standing panicked in the middle of a city, convinced she had nowhere to run, not even noticing the inviting patch of green grass nearby or the long road stretching out ahead.
Look, Mum used to say, that birds got plenty of ways out but she just stands there, scared. Do you reckon thats really her only choice? Take a closer look, Jenny.
Six-year-old Jenny would turn the picture over and over in her hands. I dont know, shed mutter. I feel sorry for her.
Who? The opportunity? Mum would laugh.
No, the bird! Jennys chin always wobbled at this bit.
And is feeling sorry going to help?
No!
Well, what about this Mum would hand Jenny a green pencil and pick up an eraser. Watch.
She erased the city bit by bit. The houses vanished, Jenny watching, not quite sure what Mum was getting at. Then, she gently wrapped her hand around Jennys and together, they drew grass, a couple of trees, and some lumpy cloudsdrawn in green, not blue, but the skies were clear enough all the same.
What do you think? Better for the bird now?
Jenny thought the ostrich looked like it was about to dash across the grass, finally free, forgetting every sorrow Jenny imagined it had.
Yes! Much better, Jenny beamed.
And who made it better?
You? Jenny always guessed.
No, love. You. You picked up the pencil and made it happen. I just helped a little. Thing is, kiddo, you can do that in real life too. Not just for ostriches, but for yourself. Any time. Swishimagine some lovely grass! And thenrun! The rest, you dream up as you go. Dreams are good, even if they stay dreams.
Mum had been gone for a long time now, but Jenny remembered every single thing shed ever said. All those wild stories, unlike any Jenny found in books. All their talks, serious or not so much, perched in their little, perpetually tidy kitchen, even if the rest of the flat was always ankle-deep in canvases, paint and pastel. Mum had never had a real studioshe worked at home.
Shed called those chats little chinwags.
Oh! Going to have another natter, are we? shed say, wiping paint from her nose, always managing to get herself smudged. Jenny would laugh at Mums painted face.
Mum! You look like a masterpiece yourself! I could hang you on a wall! So bright.
Meanwhile, the cake Jenny tried to take from the oven threatened to slide off the tray, and theyd both giggle uncontrollably. Why? Just because.
Theyd always been happy together, even if Mum wasnt the proper sort of mother. From Year One, Jenny had ironed her own uniform, made her own toast or baked that one pie she could never get wrong. But she always felt safe beside Mumshe knew shed always have someone on her side, come what may.
Shed needed reminding of that a few times. First was in Year One, coming home with a ripped blouse and a splendid black eye.
Blimey! Thats a right royal shiner! Who did that to you, love?
Jenny, terrified shed get told off for the ruined blouse, burst into tears until her freckles all but disappeared. She didnt want to explain about Tim, the class terror, trying to nick her satchel to help her, and Jenny misunderstanding his intention. How embarrassing! Now both she and Tim thought Jenny was mad and to be avoided at all costs.
How could Jenny have known Tim actually liked her? With her wild carrot-top curls (Mums phrase), green eyes like duckweed in the pond at Regents Park, and slightly wobbly legs? Mum had said the nice bit about the hair; Jenny came up with the bit about the legs herself, turning this way and that in front of her mirror. Her knees werent even the same size. Jenny was convinced.
Tell me, who could fancy a girl like that? No one, Jenny thought. Certainly not Tim. So the satchel must have been snatched for some mischief. But Jenny wasnt having it. Inside her unique old leather satchelMums dads, after much persuasionwas a brand-new box of pastels. Jenny had pinched them from Mum, hoping to wow everyone in art class. No one in her class could draw muchbut Jenny, while not a prodigy like her mum, showed promise.
That promise remained just that. Jenny didnt go into art. When she shyly asked about applying to medical school, her mother just shrugged:
Its your life, love.
Then Mum either laughed or cried in her bedroom with the door shut, thinking Jenny was asleep.
No! But honestlywhere does it come from? Shes never met him, never seen him, but now shes obsessed with medicine. Why, I ask you? Thats right, Clementine! He was an orange, through and through
Jenny knew Mum talked about her dad with her only friend, Auntie Sarah. When Jenny asked why Sarah was her only friend, Mum would grin and say:
Ones enough for me! Im a solo act, Jenny. And sos Sarah. We get each other. If were not up for a natter, we just say so, and the other understandsthats what really matters in a friendship.
So why dont you two ever say hello, or goodbye?
We dont? Id never noticed Maybe we dont see time between us. Were always together, even when were not.
I get it.
Truthfully, Jenny hadnt a clue. But it was a fact: Sarah was the one Mum trusted completely. She was the one who eventually told Jenny about her father after Mum died.
A surgeon, Jenny. A good one. Put your mums arm back together after her accident, so she could paint again. Clever bloke. But rubbish at being a husband. He legged it soon as he found out your mum was expecting. Didnt want the hassle. Work was everythinghe wanted to be famous.
Did he manage it?
Dont know. Moved away when you were about fivewhy do I remember? Because he did my op, too. Saved my life, but disappeared straight after. Didnt even say goodbye.
Did Mum try?
Oh yes. Wanted him to see you, at least once. Was very hurt he never came.
Fine by me! Jenny yanked off the silly black scarf someone had put on her and let her copper curls flare up in the sunlight. Neighbours shot her a look, but Jenny just pulled out her hairpins, shook her head and grinned.
Thats it, love! Your mum would approve! Live your life! Anything that gets in the wayout it goes!
Jenny took her advice. She liveduniversity, endless study, late-night textbooks, and not a soul close by. Shed always kept her distance from people at school anywaytoo tall, too clumsy, flamingly ginger, and covered in freckles. She was called every name under the sun.
Look, a little ginger elephant! Did you ever see one with freckles and big feet?
At the back of the class, Jenny sat proud and aloof, dreaming one day someone would show up and like everything about her, wonky knees and all.
That someone never turned up at school. Mum stayed her best friend; Mum loved her unconditionally, understood her like no one else. Why bother looking for anyone else?
Max came into Jennys life during her third year at uni. Exhausted and half-asleep, she was trudging down the corridor when someone bumped into her and her notes went everywhere.
Sorry! I really am sorryI didnt mean to!
A short, bespectacled bloke scrambled about picking up her papers. Here you go! he said, shoving them back to her. You study here?
Jenny just nodded, too tired to reply, and carried on walking. She didnt notice the wistful sigh behind her as Max kicked his own bag, left where hed dropped it to help.
She did shockingly well on the exam that day. Emerging, all she could think about was foodproper, real food. The canteen would do, but she decided to head home; there was a pot of cold summer soup waiting in the fridge, and her meagre cash could be saved.
Max caught up with her at the bus stop. Wait! Sorry if this is weird, butwhats your name?
Jenny. Jennifer.
Great! Im Max. Nice to meet you!
They both stood silent, uncertain. Folks around them grinned, guessing what was going on.
The bus arrived. Wherere you off to now? he ventured.
Home.
Doing what?
Soup. Eating soup.
I love that stuff! he beamed.
Well, what are we waiting for? I do a mean summer soupcome on over if you like! Jenny surprised herself with how natural it felt to say it.
Six months later, they got married. Max didnt want to wait. Jenny wasnt fussed; shed realised, with Max, she felt content. Not quite like with Mum, but closefinally, someone gave a damn about her.
Maxs mother, Anne, was not Jennys biggest fan. This odd, ginger giantess who was a head taller than her son and lived by her own rulesto Anne, Max deserved better.
Jennifer! You cant just do as you like. What will people say? shed complain when Jenny suggested skipping the traditional wedding and spending their savings on a trip instead.
What people? Jenny would ask. I havent got any.
But we have, dear! Loads. Youre joining our family nowyou need to consider our ways. Big occasions deserve a celebration, so at least relatives can meet.
Jenny glanced at the mournful Max and shrugged. Fine. If you think its for the best
She didnt want to argue. She regretted it almost immediately but hid it well, nodding politely while Anne helped choose her dress, fussed over her veil, and smiled at every concession Jenny made.
The wedding was chaotic and utterly forgettable. Jenny was bored senseless, itching to escape. Guests gossiped, discussing her assetsincluding her flaming hair, which Jenny refused to coil up for the day.
Whats the point of that nest? she asked. Ill look ridiculous.
Its your dayup to you, Anne sighed, resigned.
Eventually Jenny ditched the veil and sat wild-haired, amused at the way the guests eyed her.
Jen! Youve just shocked the whole lot! Max grinned at his mum and aunts, then sniggered with his wife.
Its the only entertainment well get!
Anne insisted they live with her until uni was over, but Jenny flatly refused.
What for? Ive got a flat of my own. Loads of space, and its closer anyway.
But darling! Wholl keep house? Cook, clean, look after the laundry?
Does it matter?
Of course! Max is used to a certain way of doing things! This will be hard for him.
Jenny just turned to Max. You decide.
Max, perfectly capable of coping without his mums dinners, said straight off, Well live on our own, obviously. Otherwise, Mumll eat you alive.
Why?
Not whyjust, she would, Jenny. Youre my wife, and youve got every right to me.
Big responsibility!
Exactly! And therell be more. Mum raised me alone. Proper problem, that. She thinks she owns me.
You seem very calm about it.
Whats the point worrying? It matters what I think, not what she thinks. And I want to live with you.
But the cracks started as soon as Max moved in with Jenny. Annes little digs, hints, tiny slights multiplied until the mountain could not be ignored.
Max! Seven years now and not a sign of kids? Dont you think that might mean something? Time to think about your future!
What kind of future, Mum?
Yours, obviously! Or are you just going to let the family name end just like that? Jennifer isnt cut out to be a mother, cant you see?
I can, Mum, but it makes no difference. I love her.
Oh, Lord, if you wanted to punish a person, robbing them of sense would do it! Anne would wail, wringing her hands.
Over and over, they went round the houses about children. In the end, Jenny snapped.
Are you sure its just me?
Anne choked. Who else? Max is perfectly healthy!
Jenny just pulled the test results from her bag.
Dont be so certain.
Anne brushed the folder aside. Thats all useless paper. A baby is a blessing from above. If it hasnt happened, it just means that marriage isnt blessed.
Jenny noticed Anne had become deeply religious, forever off to abbeys, her bedroom filling with icons. Max simply shrugged at Jennys questions.
Why does it bother you? Its harmless.
It bothers me because now, as well as your mothers complaints, I get told off from up high. Not so funny now, Max.
I wasnt joking! Everyones allowed their foibles. Leave it at that.
But Jenny couldnt. She was tired. Tired of apologising, of hiding things, of treading on eggshells in the hope of a peaceful family life.
And shed never, ever tell her mother-in-law about the two miscarriages. About the longing for children, the making of little plans, and the heartbreak when those dreams vanished. When finally, she gave away the tiny box with the baby bootieslike real little trainersshe shut the lid on her hopes, refusing to even wonder what Mum would have said.
Jenny filed for divorce in February. The snow and frost abruptly gave way to drizzle and grey rains. Natures mood matched hersthey both wept at the window, the rain outside, Jenny inside, her finger tracing secret words on the cold glass.
Max didnt understand. He tried to talk, tried to patch things up, but Jenny held her ground.
I cant do this anymore, Max. I know it sounds odd. Maybe unloading it all is silly, but its my life. I wont waste any more of it on this. Im always the one to blameits nonsense, right?
Nonsense.
Thats why I need to draw some grass now, you see? I need my green pencil, my own reality. One where Im good enough. Where things happen for me, not everyone else.
Jenny knew Max wouldnt get it, so she cut off contact, hoping it would break the last connections between them.
She boxed up his things and changed her number, the locks, everything. She stopped opening the door to anyone. She just didnt care anymoreexhausted by it all.
Proper sleep was a thing of the past. She wandered the flat at night, sometimes crying, sometimes just wishing Max was still there. How he used to sleep sprawled, arm over his head. How shed sneak under the covers with her cold feet, how hed grumble and then turn to snuggle her. How shed fall asleep, cursing the alarm that would go off all too soon as dawn broke.
But Max was gone. And as far as Jenny could see, thered be no bringing him back. Time to live forward, not bury her head in the sand.
It was Mums old box of pencils and paintsrescued from Annes eager hands when shed come to help tidy upthat surfaced out of the loft one day. Jenny sneezed at the dust, then sat cross-legged on the floor, stroking the pencils, her mothers, the little chewed paintbrushes. There was no proper paper in the flat, so she decided shed buy a big sketchbook on her way into work. She had so much to think about, and drawing was the only way to do itMums way.
Been ages since I did this, Mum. Maybe I shouldve done it more, Jenny whispered, glancing at her mothers photograph on the shelf. The dust, untouched, smeared her finger and she flinched towards the bathroom. Must mop that shelf Anne might drop by Jenny laughed out loud at herself. No one would tell her off now. There was no one left. She was alone and could do as she pleased.
But the next day, Jenny didnt make it to the shop. The morning was a disaster, and she was late for work. Rushing into her surgery, with a queue already waiting, she shrugged on her coat and rang her old colleaguethe one shed once given those tiny booties.
Katie, could you check me over? I feel rotten.
Work kept her distracted. Patient after patient, Jenny worked automatically, pushing out the thought of what Katie would say. Nothing good, obviously. No sense in worrying. She might need treatmentor even a stint in hospital. Arrange for someone to feed the cat, get the neighbour to water her plants. Now she was aloneno leaving keys with Anne and banishing thoughts about whether Hamlet the cat was devouring houseplants.
Katies news knocked Jenny sideways. The rest of the day drifted by in a blur. On her way up the stairssnubbing the lift, as usual, lost in thoughtJenny didnt even spot Anne, waiting by her door.
Jenny
Jenny turned, eyebrows raised.
You?
I Oh, Im sorry to bother you! Anne, so not herself, started gabbling, rushing her words, desperate to say everything before Jenny could close the door in her face. She knew Jenny was perfectly capable of it. I didnt mean Well, I need to talk to you! Its very important. If youd let me
Jenny finally sorted the key and let her in.
Come in.
Anne shot inside, pausing to stroke Hamlet, perched on the hall table.
Hello! Blimey, youve put on weight! Its time for a dietyoull turn into a ball. Not good for you, old chap.
Jenny half-listened as Anne chatted to the cat, kicked off her shoes and coat, and fetched the slippers.
These are mine
Yep.
And you didnt throw them away?
No.
Jenny didnt bother explaining. She just put the kettle on.
So, what did you want to talk about?
I I owe you an apology. To you. And Max.
Apologise? For what?
Its my fault you split up. I caused it. And now Im losing my son. Anne started to cry; Jenny, thinking her own thoughts, just shrugged.
Has it occurred to you were adults, responsible for our own choices? Our marriage is our business, not yours.
Oh, yes, youre right, of course, but Listen, Jenny, weve got a new vicar at church. Please, dont get cross, just hear me out. Ill say my bit and go if you like, but just let me finish. Im hopeless with words but I need to try. I honestly thought I was protecting my son, giving him a future, and I ended up snatching him away. Jenny, Max loves you. He hasnt got over it at all. Hes a wreck. Started drinkingbut stopped, thankfully. Cant keep away from surgery, though; its his life. But not just work. He needs you. I never told you, but Max wasnt my first baby. There were four before him. None survived. A girl before him Beautiful little thingtiny thing. My husband nearly left me over it. Blamed me, though the doctors told him otherwise. He went off for a bit, but came back. We couldnt be apart. Then Max was born, and everything changed. Finally, life had meaning. I wanted you to have that meaning, too. But you fought me.
You were wrong.
I see that now. I just wish I should have supported you, not judged you. Who am I to play God, to decide who deserves what?
Is the new vicar to thank for that?
Yes, Jenny. He explained loads. That you and Max are a coupleno one has any business interfering. People act like they can tell God what to dogive us this, dont give us that. As though a baby means blessing and no baby means your marriage isnt valid. Of course its all nonsense. I realise that now, though I know youre not religious
What makes you say that?
Anne faltered. Its justyou never talked about it.
I just think faiths a private thing. Not something you chat about over a cuppa.
Oh yes, fair enough. People are different. Anne brightened, finally meeting Jennys eyes.
I guess every doctor wonders deep down if God existsthe job does that to you. But if you dont mind, maybe we can leave that subject for another time. Im not ready right now.
Another time? Annes hands trembled. Are you saying
Im saying Max can come back. NoI want him to. Because I miss him too.
Anne let out a long, shuddering breath, so relieved Jenny couldnt help but smile.
But why? Why now, Jenny?
Because Ive found my green pencil. And maybe youve found yours too. The rest lets talk later, yeah? Sorry, but Im utterly exhausted. All I do is sleep lately. Ohand heres Maxs spare keys. Please, let him know Im waiting.
Jenny barely remembered making it to the living room, curling up with a cushion. Hamlet, now officially a grump, growled when Max arrived an hour later, nudging him off the sofa to lie beside Jenny.
You came, she murmured, tucking herself in against his shoulder.
Course I did. Where else would I be?
Four years later, Anne perched at a little table with her granddaughter.
What shall we draw today?
A bird!
What kind?
A big one!
Why do you need the green pencil then?
For the grass! So the bird can run and her feet wont get sore!
Oh, now, I see another doctor in the making! Your mum will love that, and so will your dad. Lets get drawing, shall we? And Anne pressed a kiss to a riot of ginger curls and smiled.
