Could Not Forgive
June arrived hot, pressing a heavy dome of warm air over the city not a whisper of a breeze, not even the sigh of a leaf. If only a bit of wind would find its way here, dreamed Margaret as she thumbed through her plain wardrobe, searching for anything to wear. Tomorrow was her daughters school-leaving ball, and as luck would have it, she hadnt a single suitable summer dress.
Her daughter Molly appeared in the bedroom doorway. She scrutinised Margaret with a cold, precise gaze from shoes to crown and then announced, Mum, you may be upset with me, but I dont want you at the ball. Dont ruin my night! Just let Dad go as the familys representative. He looks sharp and always wears the best suits. You dont have a single thing in fashion. Honestly, youre a complete failure with a face like a wounded horse, and I forbid you to come!
Molly vanished with a dramatic slam of the door, leaving Margaret paralysed.
Then again, why should she be surprised? Margaret had long noticed how her husband had started to shy away from her. He never invited her anywhere, never to parties, never to his business gatherings. Everyone else brought their spouses but never him.
He was always explicit: shed grown old, couldnt dress or keep up with herself, her hair and makeup outdated, her brows and lips unpolished. You need to look the part, like the wife of a successful businessman.
Worst of all, Molly had taken his side overnight. She boasted endlessly about her thriving, modern father. Hed always gone to parents evenings Molly never wanted Margaret to turn up at school.
Margaret faced the mirror. A perfectly average face stared back not old at all, only 38. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, her eyes her eyes sad beyond reason. A wounded horses face, she thought, the phrase echoing painfully.
That evening, she resolved to talk it out with her husband, to ask him to rein in his darling daughter.
She knew shed made a grave error years ago, leaving her medical studies so that Andrew, her beloved, could have a shot at his degree.
Theyd met at university she was in her second year of medical school, he in the third at the polytechnic. Theyd simply registered at a registry office, without even the hint of a wedding party. Margarets mum was alone and modestly off, while Andrew hailed from a crowded countryside family.
They rented a flat. Margaret took an academic break and worked as a hospital porter, while baby Molly was born. At nine months, Margaret returned to work, and her mum looked after the baby.
She worked doggedly and Andrew finished his studies undisturbed. Luck favoured him with a managers job at a prosperous firm.
Margaret always meant to return for her degree, but Andrew urged her, Lets wait another year, Ill get properly settled, then Ill help you, and you can go back.
But there was always something loans, then the flat purchase, and Andrew building up his business. All the money went towards that. Medical school faded into the mist. Margaret sweated, working to support the family, picking up extra shifts on weekends and bank holidays, even working nights. Molly started school. Thank God for Grandma.
Years drifted by.
Andrew became a successful business owner. Margaret had been promoted; for five years now, she was a linen keeper at the hospital moving up in the world, so to speak.
After supper, Margaret called Andrew to a candid talk. Whats happening with us? Why do you and Molly treat me like a doormat? What did I do to deserve this?
Andrew replied, Margaret, youre a grown woman. Dont you see it? Weve not been a real couple for years. That old student romance is dead and gone, and nothing came to replace it. Were miles apart intellectually, emotionally. Im ashamed to have such a bland, uninteresting wife. I dont love you, Im sorry. And I cant carry on like this.
Molly stayed with Andrew.
Margaret went to her mothers.
To call it a blow wouldnt cover it. It was annihilation. The life shed built year by year collapsed in a puff of dust. She moved zombie-like through her days; working, chit-chatting, smiling, all while nursing a grudge that burned her from within.
Margaret phoned Molly, but her daughter asked her not to call anymore.
At first Andrew kept in touch. He mentioned that Molly had started law at university, living with him.
It didnt take Andrew long to remarry. His new wife was fifteen years younger, perfectly suited to his image.
He rented a separate flat for Molly. She got on with her new stepmother well enough, but who knows how that would turn out?
Slowly, Margaret healed from the double betrayal.
She stopped pestering them she mostly blamed herself. She should never have erased herself for husband and daughter. She should never have treated herself so carelessly.
Margaret decided to turn her life upside down.
She got a smart new haircut, went to the best makeup artist in the city, and hardly recognised her face in the glass a beauty!
Ill look like this forever now! Especially as I have time and money for myself for once, she promised herself.
She finished a paid course in massage therapy her medical background came in handy. She worked at a private alternative clinic and brought home a tidy sum.
On holidays, she headed south always picking up massage work at spa hotels, always in high demand. She basked in the sun, working and enjoying herself.
Of course, she attracted attention from men. Some had serious intentions but Margaret didnt want marriage. Not anymore. Shed had enough of living for others, bending and pleasing never again!
Four years slid by.
She missed Molly, of course, but she forbade herself any pining. If Molly didnt call or visit, clearly she was fine.
Then another grief hit. Her mother passed away suddenly.
Margaret sold her flat, gathered her savings, and moved to Bournemouth shed always dreamed of the coast.
She bought a small flat and worked at the local health spa as a massage therapist.
One day, out of the blue, Molly rang. Margarets hands trembled as she picked up.
Mum! Hi, as if it had been just yesterday.
Mum, could you look after your granddaughter for a bit? I need to finish my degree, took a break, theres no one else I trust. Youre my only hope, Molly chirped as if nothing had ever come between them.
My dear, how can you ask an old failure with a face like a wounded horse to look after your child? You have your young, beautiful stepmum, your successful dad, andI imaginea husband. Hire a nanny; I cant. I live way out in Bournemouth, and Im always working, she replied calmly.
Distance didnt daunt Molly. She arrived, daughter in tow. The little one, Millie, was a year and a half, sweet and blue-eyed. Margaret was delighted, loving her granddaughter at first glance.
Molly asked for forgiveness, and her mother forgave her.
Molly explained that her partner had left her for another, hoping her father would pull strings for him. But Andrews business collapsed. Hed had to sell his flat and fought hard to stay afloat. His young wife left; this wasnt the life shed signed up for.
Molly left. Margaret stayed with Millie, hired a nanny, and planned to send her to a private nursery nearby when she was older.
Andrew called, begging to start over, pleading for another chance.
No. I cant forgive you. Dont call again, Margaret replied.
So ends this tale. Ordinary, really a story much like many others, now half remembered, like a foggy dream.
