My husband wouldnt stand up for me in front of a rude saleswoman and I drew my conclusions about our marriage
Madam, are you buying these or am I meant to stand here with you till closing? Ive inventory to finish in ten minutes, and youre dithering about like a hen in a dustheap! Open your eyes the price tag is right there!
Margaret flinched and pulled her hand away from the roll of wallpaper. Shed only wanted to check the batch number, to make sure all the rolls matched in shade anyone whos ever redecorated knows how important that is. The saleswoman, a heavyset woman with garish purple eye shadow and a badge reading Shirley, glowered over her, arms akimbo, reeking of cheap cigarettes and sour impatience.
Excuse me, but the batch number isnt on the price tag, Margaret replied, polite but firm, trying to keep her dignity. Id just like to be sure theyre from the same box. You wont accept a return if we open them and theyre mismatched.
What do you know about what Ill accept or not! Shirley barked, drawing a few stares from other customers. Always someone trying to act clever. Go boss your own household! If you dont like it here, theres the door you can fetch the moon from the next shop for all I care. This is self-service.
A warm flush crept up Margarets face and ears. This wasnt just simple rudeness, this was outright hostility from no real cause. She glanced around for her husband. Edward stood barely a couple of paces away, studying the glue display. He heard it all he mustve. Shirleys voice cut above even the drone of the ventilation in the enormous DIY warehouse.
Margaret waited. Hoped he would come over, put a hand on her shoulder, say calmly, No need for that tone, or, Could we call your manager? She didnt want a row or a scene. She wanted to feel protected. Just someone at her side signalling that she wasnt alone, that she neednt be treated this way.
Edward met her eye. There was a flicker there of irritation, at the whole situation perhaps, but not at the saleswoman. Then he avoided her gaze, produced his phone, and pretended to check an urgent message. He sidled off into the next aisle, to the skirting boards.
Inside Margaret, something snapped. Some fine, invisible thread that maybe had been holding together their last twenty years.
You know what? she said quietly, looking Shirley right in the face. Keep your wallpaper. Good luck with your inventory.
She turned and walked away without glancing back. She could feel Edward trailing after her, not close, keeping just enough distance so as not to draw Shirleys notice.
They got into the car in icy silence. Edward started the engine, flicked the radio on; insipid pop music filled the car, a mockery in that heavy hush.
Well, what was the point of that performance? he sulked as they turned onto the main road. The wallpaper was perfectly decent. So the woman was a bit surly maybe shes had a miserable day. Life isnt a bed of roses. You didnt need to take offence. Now well have to drive all the way to the other side of town.
Margaret stared out at the grey terraces sliding past. She felt as if she was seeing her husband for the first time. Or perhaps, seeing him as hed always been, only shed been looking through some smudged filter before, which had finally cracked and let the cold in back in the wallpaper aisle.
I put on a scene, did I? she repeated softly. I was insultedcalled a henfor no reason at all. My husband, standing right there, pretended he was a bit of the shelves.
Oh for goodness sake, Maggie, dont start, Edward muttered, wincing. What was I meant to do? Get in a row with some old biddy? Scream the place down? You know I cant stand those sorts of scenes. Im a reasonable man.
Being reasonable isnt the same as being spineless, Edward.
So now Im a coward. Thank you very much! Twenty years weve been married, and suddenly Im a coward. Never mind that I provide for the household, I dont drink, I dont fool aroundthat doesnt count? Do you want me to be some sort of Neanderthal who sorts everything out with his fists?
Margaret closed her eyes. The discussion was pointless he simply didnt understand, or pretended not to.
She remembered five years before, when the upstairs flat had flooded theirs. It was a rowdy group of students, renting. Water trickled down the walls, ruining the fresh paint. Margaret ran with buckets, while Edward sat on the sofa buried under his newspaper, mumbling, Go on, you talk to them, love, theyll listen to a woman, if I go up there itll just turn nasty. And so she went. She argued, called the building maintenance, filled out the paperwork. Later hed boast to friends about how we resolved the problem.
She recalled how the schoolteacher at parents evening once unfairly accused their son of breaking a window, when everyone knew it was that troublemaker Perkins. Edward just sat staring at his shoes, and Margaret had to force herself, burning with nerves, to defend their boy.
All these years shed made excuses for him. Hes just like that. Hes gentle. Hes above pointless squabbles. Shed been his shield, his voice, his hands. She dealt with the council, the garage, where they routinely tried to swindle him, his mothers endless, unasked-for advice. Edward was a nice maneasy to get along with, convenient. For everyone except Margaret.
Stop the car, she said.
What for? Were not home yet.
Just stop. I need to walk.
Edward pulled up by the kerb with a disgruntled sigh.
Maggie, dont play the fool. Get back in, lets go home, Id like dinner. You can fry up some chops.
Fry them yourself, she replied, getting out and shutting the door.
She didnt go home till late that evening. Edward was in front of the television, a plate of half-eaten frozen pies beside himhe hadnt bothered to cook anything properly. A pile of dirty dishes teetered in the sink.
Oh, so youve bothered to come home, he grumbled, eyes fixed on the screen. Whereve you been out all night, then? I was worried, you know.
Margaret walked into the bedroom and pulled an old battered suitcase from under the bedthe one theyd taken to Spain the previous summer.
Where do you think youre going? Edward stood in the doorway, genuine fear in his voice. Come on, love, just because of a bit of wallpaper? Be serious.
Its not about the wallpaper, Edward. Its about you. About us.
She folded clothesjumpers, trousers, underthingsher movements deliberate and calm. She felt no anger, no panic, just a cold clarity.
What, because I didnt get in a row in B&Q? I just dont like those scenes, I never have! Is that seriously a reason to break up a family? Twenty years, Maggie! Our sons about to finish university!
Exactly. She straightened up, holding a stack of t-shirts. Our sons grown. Hes a man, because I taught him not to hide behind others. And you… Youre a decent man, Edward. But Im tired of being the one who wears the trousers. Im tired of standing up for us both, all the time. I want someone wholl stand up for meeven if its just with a rude shop assistant.
Whod want you at forty-five? he spat, face twisted in sudden venom. The mask of the easy-going Englishman slipped, revealing the frightened man beneath. Well, arent you the princess? Someone to defend you! You do a good enough job tearing others to pieces!
Perhaps, she replied coolly. But I only learned to bite because I had to. Lifes made me that way. With you, I could have been gentle. I could have beenbut I wasnt, because if I relaxed for a moment, the world would eat us alive.
She zipped up the suitcase.
Ill stay with my mother. Dont call me yet. I need to decide if I want to spend the rest of my life with someone whod throw me to the wolves just to avoid a bit of awkwardness.
Edward made no move to stop her. He stood in the hall, lost in his sagging jogging bottoms, watching as she put on her coat.
The chops are in the freezer, she called as she left. Instructions are on the packet.
The first few days at her mothers went by in a haze. Margaret took time off work, slept a lot, strolled through the park, fed the ducks. Her mother, a quietly wise old woman, asked no questionsjust kept her topped up with good soup and hot mint tea in the evenings.
Edward started phoning by the third day. First came the complaints: Where are my blue socks? How do I pay for the internet? Then came the pleading: Maggie, come on, come back, the place is a tip, I miss you. Not a word about what had happened, no hint of understanding. Only a desire for his domestic convenience to be restored.
A week later, he turned up at her mothers door, holding a limp bunch of supermarket roses.
Maggie, come out, lets talk, he said into the entry phone.
She went down. He stood outside the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot, looking worse for wear.
Sorry, love, he said, thrusting out the flowers. I messed up. Ill admit that. Cant we just put it behind us? Ive been thinkingwe could get that wallpaper from another shop. Ill talk to the staff myself, if need be.
She looked at him, and all she felt was pity. He was bargaining, trying to buy her back with the promise, Ill deal with the staff.
It was never about the wallpaper, Edward, she said once again. Im not coming back. Not yet. I need time.
How much time? He was growing testy. A month? A year? What am I supposed to tell people? That my wife left because I didnt have a row in a shop? Id be the laughingstock!
Thats all that matters to you? What the neighbours think? She smiled, sadly. When we married, I thought we were a team. Back-to-back, you know? Turns out I was the shield, and you were hiding behind me. I cant carry on like that. Im worn out.
She didnt come back after a month or two. Life apart proved remarkably peaceful no one mumbling complaints, no one expecting her to serve, no sense of crushing weight. Margaret took up dance classes shed always wanted to try, got a new haircut. Their son, hearing of it, came home and listened to both his parents. Mum, I get it, he said. Dad hes always been that way. You deserve to be happy.
Six months on, Edward appeared again. This time, no flowers, just a piece of paper.
Here, he said, holding it out. Statement for the police.
Whats happened? Margaret was alarmed. Have you been robbed?
No. Do you remember that neighbourPatterson, the one who always parks on the grass and mouths off at everyone? I went out this morning, found hed blocked in my car. Told him off. He told me to shove it.
He fell silent, staring away.
And? she prompted.
I called the council. The warden. I insisted they write up a report. Patterson screamed and threatened, but I thought: What would Maggie do? And I stood my ground. Waited till the tow-truck arrived.
Margaret regarded her husband with surprise. For the first time in years, she saw not apathy but a glimmera faint spark of self-respect.
Thats good, Edward. Well done.
I see now, Maggie, he said quietly. It wasnt about rows or making a scene. Its about not letting people walk all over you, or your loved ones. Ive joined a gym. And Ive been seeing a counsellor. Odd sort, but she talks sense.
He hesitated.
Im not asking you to come back yet. I know what I did. I just wanted you to know I am changing. Slowly, but I am. Because without you, I feel empty. Not because there are no chops in the freezer, but because I know whom Ive lost.
She took his hand. It was cold, but the grip was steady.
Im glad, Edward. Honestly.
May I ask you out? he blurted. Not home, butout? To the cinema. Or the park. Like we used to. Just a walk, nothing more.
She thought about it. Here stood the man shed shared half her life with. Not perfecthed betrayed her in a small thing that revealed everything. But now he stood before her, trying not to fix just the situation, but himself. That was worth something.
All right, the cinema, she said. But lets agreeif someone rattles popcorn or talks through the film
Ill have a word with them politely, but firmly, he promised.
That night, they didnt talk about reconciliation or divorce or the future. They just watched the film, strolled under the lights, shared ice cream. And when a boisterous gang of teenage boys swaggered over and one demanded a cigarette, Edward did not shrink away. He looked the lad in the eye and said, I dont smoke, and you shouldnt either. Good evening. Then guided Margaret, arm-in-arm, through the crowd.
And just then, Margaret felt the ice within begin at last to melt. She didnt know if they would get back together. Trust is like a teacup: easy to break, a devil to mend so the cracks dont show. But she knew thisboth had learned a lesson. Shed begun to value herself, not to put up with what didnt suit her. And Edward had started to realise that being a man isnt just about trousers, but having some backbone.
A month later, Margarets heel snapped as she was walking through town. On impulse, she called Edward.
Where are you? he asked.
High Street, by the chemist.
Stay there. Ill be ten minutes. Bringing you your trainers.
He didnt ask why she hadnt watched where she was going or tell her to get a cab. He just turned up, and sorted it.
And it was right there, lacing on comfy trainers in the back of the car, that Margaret thought: maybe we do have a second chance. Not a rerun of the old story, where she played the carthorse and he just rode along, but the beginning of a new onetwo grown people, standing up for each other.
You know, she said, knotting her laces, the wallpaper was actually quite lovely.
Edward caught her eye in the mirror and smilednot sheepishly, but warm and open.
Lets get it now. And if Shirleys still there, Ill know what to say. Or well pick another shopless stress, better for the nerves.
Margaret laughed.
Lets go.
Life doesnt end with a single mistake, not if youre willing to make it right. Sometimes, to build a strong house, you first have to knock down the old foundation, lay a new one of mutual respect and support.
