I Will Give You a Star
Claire, where are my socks? Why cant I ever find a thing in this house? Why must I waste my time on such pointless frustrations?
I walked past John, who stood at the mirror practicing his daily grievances, and opened his chest of drawers. His socks, neatly paired, lay in straight, precise rowsjust as I always arranged them.
Your socks are here.
And help me with my tie, would you? My knot never looks quite as tidy as yours. John held his tie out to me and grimaced. What on earth are you wearing?
I looked down at myself. The warm tracksuit Id recently bought was effortlessly comfortable, perfect for the garden.
Its practical. I was going to do a bit of gardening.
Cant you dress properly, even at home? Im quite certain I provide enough for you to look respectable in your own house.
I said nothing. There was no point in arguing; no matter what I said, his reply would always be that I was wrong. I tied his tie and left the room. Freedom. In a matter of minutes, John would drive off, and the house would be mine until evening. I could tend to the garden, teach the afternoon lessons Id scheduled, and maybe even find a moment to read.
Claire! My mothers coming tomorrow.
I froze on the landing.
Why didnt you mention it before?
Slipped my mind. Ive got a thousand things to sort.
I went downstairs to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I scrutinised the contents. Not good enough, I thought. Id have to go to the market.
I respected my mother-in-law, Margaret Brown. I remembered her as the headteacher of my schooltall, impossibly graceful, always gliding down the corridors. None of us kids feared her, but we all respected and loved her. She could pop into a PE lesson for an inspection, whip off her jacket and join in the volleyball match, arguing passionately for her team and then, as soon as the game ended, compose herself instantly into the headteacher role once more.
When she retired, she bought a small cottage in the Cotswolds, where she spent most of her time growing roses. Sometimes shed take them to local shows, always winning prizes.
Shed been childhood friends with my own mum, Jean Millertheyd gone to the same nursery, the same school. Even when life sent them on separate paths, they kept up their friendship with letters and long phone calls. When my parents moved to Cambridge, Margaret would visit with her son, who, at nine years my senior, paid me little attention. That changed when John came along to a school leavers party, caught sight of me in my dress andwell, that was the beginning.
Ill give you the stars, the whole universe! I love you like no one on earth ever has or will! Whatever you wish for, its yours! I promise, Ill do anything for you!
John had always attracted mehandsome, clever, so charming. His words, his promises, made my head spin. The only thing that gave me pause was how desperate he seemed to marry as soon as possible.
Johnny, what about university? Ive only just begun.
Uni? What does that matter, when well be together, darling! And please, dont call me Johnny. I cant stand that nickname. My names fine as it is.
Though Id dreamed of veils and white dresses, this time I held my ground. I needed to finish my degree. Either we waited for the wedding, or John accepted that Id continue my studies after our honeymoon. John detested that idea.
Claire, ultimatums are no way to start a marriage. It doesnt speak well for your wisdom.
Ive ages to go before Im wise, dear. I just need a bit more sense.
And whos stopping you?
You are! I agreed to leave Leeds, give up my mum, my flat, my friendsall to move to London for you.
And thats more important than me? Really?
Of course not! Thats why Im marrying you. But I dont understand why I must leave behind everything, and you still act as if Im not doing enough. Im just asking to keep up my language skills, to keep moving forward.
You speak as though I want to keep you caged!
Come on! I hugged him. Lets save our arguments for something bigger. I hope it never comes up. But I will study, and thats not up for discussion.
John sulked for a week, but wedding preparations soon outpaced any hard feelings.
Darling, thats a red flag Mum said, perusing a florists catalogue. Are you sure you want to devote your life to someone who never listens?
Mum, I love him You know it.
I know, Claire. Just think carefully. Men dont change. A woman can adapt, be patientfor love, even patient beyond reason. A man, usually not. What he was as a boy, hell be as an old man. If you think you can change him, forget it. Maybe youll persuade him for a while, but itll be for show. Then it all goes back to square one, and youre left disappointed. What happens when its not about studies, but something much bigger? Just think, while you still can. You love him, but how much does he truly love you? I have nothing against John. Hes clever, well-mannered, from a good family, but my child is you. Your happiness matters most to me.
I hugged Mum, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume.
I love you too, Mum. I was quiet for a moment, pondering what shed said. What do you reckon, lilies for my bouquet or something more classic?
Mum sighed. She never expected me to suddenly change my mind. Shed seen how lost I was in love, but she had to speak her mind.
It doesnt matter. Its not some official event. Pick whatever you love.
The wedding was grand and a bit stiff. I met half those guests for the first and last timeall Johns important work contacts.
This is it! he whispered, hugging me on the dance floor. Now everything will change.
At the time, I didnt understand what he meant. But soon after, Johns new business started thriving, and his company suddenly turned a proper profit.
Soon enough, Ill keep that promise.
Which one?
Ill give you a star!
I smiled, placing my hand over the wine glass he was about to fill.
Forget the star. Give me a baby, darling.
What? Johns smile vanished. Are you pregnant?
Not yet. Whats wrong? Why the face?
Just as well. Claire, its too soon.
What do you mean?
Business is only just taking off. Weve just married. Why rush? Didnt you want to finish your studies? Well, do that. Whats the rush for kids?
But children make a family I spun the glass stem between my fingers.
Im your family, and youre mine. Lets drop this pointless conversation.
The evening was ruined. We ate quickly and drove home. For the first time since the wedding, John and I slept in different rooms. He disappeared to the lounge, and I wept in the bedroom till I fell asleep.
A few days later, Margaret called to invite me for lunchstrictly us girls.
The quiet café near the university, where I now studied, was popular with familieslots of children laughing in the play area, visible through a glass partition, so parents could keep watch while they ate in peace.
Why here? I nearly wept watching toddlers stomp after the dance leader.
John came to see me yesterday. Hes in a panic.
Whats happened? I turned from the children, eyes searching Margarets face.
Hes beside himself. Terrified at the idea of fatherhood.
Let him be afraid, then. I stared again at the little onesso sweet.
Claire, look at me.
I sighed and looked at Margaret.
I told John he has nothing to fear. Weve spoken. Id never have a baby unless the father truly wants it. I need a secure family, where a child feels loved by both of us.
Margaret took my hand, squeezing my fingers.
Youre a wise girl. Ive always seen your strength. And now Ill say what a mother shouldnt admit. John is a coward and always will be. I never managed to raise him into a man of his word. He needed a father to explain things, to guide him.
Thats not fair. He runs a successful business, his partners value him.
Thats different. Those people arent family. With strangers, its simple; with family, its complicated. When you married, I thought hed change. I see now I was wrong.
“As a boy, so as a man I tapped the rim of my nearly empty coffee cup.
What?
Just a thought. Margaret, what do I do? You know him bestwill he ever change his mind? Will he ever want children?
I dont know. Maybe one day. But as a woman, Ill sayget a divorce. Dont waste your youth. Youre beautiful and will have a family and children, andthis is most importanta man who values you.
But I love him
Margaret was silent.
Ive never loved enough to give up everything, not even myself. His father and I just were lucky to suit. Not love at first sight like in novels. Years later, I realised no one meant more to me. Pity it struck so latetwo years with real love, then he was gone, and my life became waiting.
Waiting for what?
When Michael was dying, he was in such painnever complained, always endured. Right before he left, he said calmly, We will see each other again. So I wait.
I squeezed Margarets hand in silence.
Time, Claire, is the cruellest thing in the world. It can take or it can give. Only we decide what it does for us. Dont let it steal all that matters to you. Think.
And I did.
For nights, watching John sleep, I thought about what I truly wanted. The more I thought, the more I understoodJohn was here, close, familiar, beloved. But a child there wasnt one, and I couldnt picture it. Maybe that was for the best. John loved me, saw to my every comfort, insisted even that I quit my job.
Why put yourself through all that stress? I can provide for you. Focus on home and yourself.
I took his concern at face value. My old job at the school really was exhausting, though I adored the childrenthe overcrowded classrooms, relentless paperwork, the constant struggle.
You cant possibly teach properly in such conditions! Id moan to him.
Then stop driving yourself mad! John would snap. Claire, you dont have to subject yourself to all that.
But what about my degree? My qualifications? Were they all for nothing?
Not at all. You can help me in meetings.
Im not an interpreter.
Doesnt matter. I have interpreters. Youd just coordinate them.
Thats not me. I like teaching.
Nothing pleases you. If you only knew what you want, maybe I would too. John ended every conversation abruptly, and I would return, again and again, to wondering what I really wanted from life.
So I quit teaching. I did freelance translation for a while, then, by chance, discovered an online learning platform. It offered everything Id missed at schoolmotivated students, a calm, nurturing pace. I buried myself in work, oddly never mentioning any of it to John. I wasnt sure why.
Our relationship didnt get better or worse. It levelled off into ordinariness. Wed become companions more than a married coupleliving together, sharing meals, sleeping in the same bed, while never really speaking. At first, I didnt mind. After some time, I realised I wanted more.
I was thirtyfive before I brought up having children again.
No! Claire, are you mad? Kids at your age? What if the baby has problems?
Why should it?
Because the risks go up every year. Listen John hugged me, intertwining our fingers. Arent we happy, just the two of us?
No, John, were not.
What?
I said were not. Isnt there supposed to be more to life? Were in a rut, John. Theres no development, no future.
Do you really believe you can only move forward by having children? He let go and went to the window.
What are you afraid of?
He stayed silent. The pause stretched until I knew if I didnt have my answer now, it could well be the end for us.
Im scared I wont be a good father.
Why?
Because! You just wouldnt understand! John began pacing, his fists clenched. I dont want my child to feel the way I did growing up!
What was wrong with your childhood, your parents? If youve started, at least finish. Im not the naïve girl who used to sigh after you when you visited in the summer, nor the starry-eyed bride. I want to know! I almost shouted. Then I checked myself. This wouldnt help. I softened my voice. Please, just tell me.
Something must have broken in the way I said it, for suddenly John looked me right in the eye and began.
I dont remember much. But my parents they never looked at each other. It was as if there was always a wall between them. A wall I made. And I knew, even as a child, whatever they did for me, it wasnt out of loveit was obligation. I felt like a task theyd ticked off because it was expected. When I went to my mum after seeing other children spontaneously hug theirs in the park, she never hugged me. She straightened my clothes, wiped my nose, but not oncenot everdid she cuddle me. My father was the same: answers to every question, but in a way that made sure Id never want to ask another. Everything was duty, nothing else. And he always looked tired of it. I thought a lot about it as I grew older. I came to believe it was because they never loved each other. So why would they love me? I was just another right thing to do. When I got older, I decided I never wanted that kind of life. Then I met you.
You only thought you were in love with me? I stared at him, wondering who the stranger was across from memy husband, and yet someone completely unknown.
I guess yes. I thought it was the answer, the thing that would give my life purpose, speed the world up, make it brighter.
You only thought
Back then, yes.
So you rushed the wedding for that?
I did.
And afterwards?
Then I realised I was living exactly like my parents: doing what was right. Everything was ticked off. Except the most important thing.
Suddenly, I needed airdesperate, urgent. Anywhere but here. I rose abruptly, dizzy, and swayed.
Where are you going? John caught my arm. I slipped away gently.
I just forgive me.
I stepped onto the veranda and drank in the crisp autumn air. The garden was sinking into early dusk, pale roses gleaming quietly in the dim light. My garden, my homeId poured all my love into this place. Picked every detail, hoping to make it warm and welcoming. Now, it all seemed pointless. How much love had I given Johnand how much more I might have given, yet none of it needed.
I understood, then, what John must have felt as a child. The fist that had gripped my heart loosened. If my own child had to feel that maybe its better he never existed. I pictured a little boy sitting alone on the veranda steps, convinced no one in the world needed him, and was chilled to the bone.
I patted my pockets. The car keys were there. Not thinking, I went to the car still in slippers and drove down rain-slicked roads beneath a blind moon.
I cried as I drovefirst quietly, then loudly, desperate, the pain of all those bottled years pouring out. Somewhere on the way to Cambridge, I pulled into a service station behind a lonely little shop, rested my head on the steering wheel, and drifted into a fitful, troubled sleep.
Mum opened her door and gasped to find me there. I slipped into her arms and suddenly wilted.
Oh Claire! My darling girl!
The ambulance came quickly.
Any health issues? The doctor frowned, checking my blood pressure.
No.
Are you pregnant?
What? I sat up, startled.
Lie back, please. Just routineI need to rule out pregnancy as a cause for your fainting.
No, Im not, Doctor. I turned away as the traitorous tears spilled down my cheeks.
Well, then I wont insist on hospital. But do see your GP. That drop in blood pressures worrying; best to check up.
Mum showed the medics out and returned to me.
Will you tell me whats happened?
Dont ask, Mum. You were right all along I laid my head in her lap like a child. But what a shame its cost me so much time. Call John and tell him Im safe at yours.
Of course, love.
I hid under the duvet like I had as a child. Would I ever have the strength to start again?
I slept nearly a whole day. When I finally opened my eyes, I was disorientedthe old bunny toy with mismatched button eyes peered at me from the bookcase. Mum stitched on a green one years ago when the blue was lost. Promised to change it but never did. Now Bunny was forever odd-eyed.
I glanced round the room and startedJohn, awkwardly folded into Mums armchair, was fast asleep. He stirred, feeling my gaze.
Hi.
Hello. I pulled the covers up. What are you doing here?
We never finished.
Didnt you already say everything?
No, you didnt let me finish. I never told you what a fool Ive been, thinking what we had was habitand thinking you felt the same. Until you ran from me. Claire, I need you. No, not needI love you.
Only just realised?
I think I knew, long ago. I was just afraid to admit it afraid to let anyone too close.
I see now, too.
What do you see?
That Im not sure I want to keep going in this life as we did. Ive been a convenient wife, havent I, John? Never demanding, always doing things your way. But I dont want to anymore.
You dont love me? John sat up straight.
Im not sure. I know one thingI cant live like this any longer.
Nor can I.
So, at least we agree.
What is it you want, then?
A new life. A real one. I want a child, maybe more than one. I know Ill have themhealthy, happy, clever children. Because I want to livenot just exist.
Is there a place for me in that life? If I say my wishes are the same?
I dont know. I dont trust your words anymore.
What if I prove it?
Looking at my sleepy, rumpled husband, I suddenly saw the same shy boy Id once fallen for. The one who made me cry into my pillow, wishing hed see me as more than the annoying little girl. The image flickered and I saw the young man at the registrar, my knees weak and hands trembling as I said I do. I realised, for me, he hadnt changed at all. I was the one who had.
As a boy, as a man
Whats that?
Im saying, lets try. But this time, together.
Mum said nothing to either of us. She made us breakfast, found me a battered old pair of trainers, and saw us off with a quiet cross traced behind our backs. She watched through the window as we got in the car, smiling to herself. She knew what was coming. I didnt realise I was pregnant until a week later. Watching a thoroughly flustered, overjoyed John dash around the flat, I laughed with real joy, persuading him that one cot was enough for the nursery. Only after the twins first scan did he clap his hands, triumphant:
I told you one wouldnt be enough!
Later, watching our boys play football with their dad, Id remember that old conversation. When, after scoring the final goal, both muddy, grinning boys shrieked and tumbled over each other, Id sweep them both up into a hug, plant kisses on their flushed cheeks despite their protests that such soppy stuff was for inside. Meeting Johns gaze, Id nod and, reaching out, hug him too.
