It has often been said that when I think back to those days, it feels as if the whole world were a quiet village in the English countryside, where everyone knew each others business and yet, somehow, kept their secrets.
Because of you Ill miss my own birthday! I remember Grace shouting, her eyes flashing. Ive been looking forward to it for weeks.
Victor, ever the calm one, asked, Whats the problem, love? Lucy and Gary are our mutual friendsfamily friends, you might say. Theyre as much yours as they are mine.
Grace flared, Exactly! So how am I supposed to look? They invited both of us and I show up alone! What am I to say?
Victor, with the steady tone of a man who had seen too many storms, replied, You could tell the truththat I simply dont want to go. Not to them, not anywhere at all.
You could also claim Im nursing a backache and crawling around the house like a wounded animal, he added, halfjoking. Its not entirely false; my back does ache, and thats a perfectly valid excuse.
Grace stared at him, searching his expression for a hint that he was merely teasing. Yet Victor remained solemn, a shade more melancholy than usual.
Victor, is something wrong? Grace asked gently.
No, why would you think that? he answered straight away.
Weve always been close with Lucy and Gary. Now its Garys birthday and you dont want to go! Itll be a jolly good time, Victor!
Graces voice trembled a little. If you must, you can lie for me, say whatever comes to mind, as long as Im left in one piece.
Victor looked at her, his eyes softening. And later you can confirm it. Honestly, I just dont feel like leaving the house Id rather stay here.
Grace, recalling other occasions, said, You didnt even turn up for Lucys birthday. And what about Kate and Andrew? How long has it been since we all met as families? Two years? Nothree?
Victor inclined his head. Ill repeat myself. Nothing stopped you. You could have visited, driven to a picnic, gone to Andrews cottage. Yet you never did.
Grace snapped, Because it would be indecent to go alone! What would people think of us as a family? If I appeared solo, theyd assume were at odds!
She added, I was hoping to have a good time, not a rift. Are you comfortable with the notion that gossip might spread about us?
Victor smiled faintly. Honestly, I could care less what anyone thinks of usor of me, for that matter.
His words gave Grace pause. In truth, he was right; who cared about idle chatter? Yet the problem ran deeper than a simple invitation.
Victor, I wont argue the point, but can you tell me whats happening to you? she asked, her voice steady. Youve changed so much that even I, your own wife, hardly recognise you any more. It worries me.
What have I become that makes you uneasy? he asked.
Your behaviour, Grace replied. You avoid people, you tell me youd rather sit alone in silence.
Victor frowned. Thats not normal. Perhaps Im ill?
Or perhaps youve recovered? he counterquestioned.
***
Grace had always believed they lived a happy marriage. After all, isnt happiness that the troubles life throws at you are easily solved when you face them together? In those days there was no mercantile attitude toward one another; budgets, chores, circles of influence and all that were shared as if they were one.
There was a familyindeed, a proper familyliving as a single organism, a unit that could weather any storm. Nothing could dim the bond between them.
Graces relationship with her motherinlaw, Eleanor, was splendid, and her fatherinlaw, Thomas, was a kindly man. Victors parents were always ready to lend a hand, often offering help before anyone asked. Likewise, the GilmoursGraces folkswere on friendly terms with Victors clan. From the first day, Graces mother called Victor son.
Housing never proved a problem. The two families pooled what they could, shuffled a few rooms here and there, and in the end the young couple moved into a comfortable terraced house in a leafy suburb.
Transport was no obstacle either. When the first grandchild arrived, relatives pooled together and presented them with a brandnew, glossy British roadsterling, not a battered old motor that had seen more hedgerows than highways.
Friends were plentiful, and the couple radiated goodwill, drawing people toward them. Neighbours wanted to share both sorrow and joy, to tackle any difficulty together.
Never once did Victor or Grace have to summon a plumber, an electrician, or any tradesman. Their friends were craftsmen and doctors alike. When a problem arose, theyd simply turn to a neighbour with a tool belt, as the old saying goes, A hand helps another hand.
The Gilmours and the Bryces, together with their circle of acquaintances, formed a lively little community. Every celebrationbirthdays, fairs, even a simple afternoon teawas shared, sometimes on a grand scale, sometimes more intimate, but never in isolation.
When life seemed blessed, the years slipped by unnoticed. Time grew weightier; some lamented the passing of youth, others bragged about a first strand of grey. Conversations drifted from jokes to more serious matterswho was ailing, how to mend what ailed.
The soul may stay young forever, but the body cannot. As the years went on, gatherings moved from garden parties to cosy country houses and healthspas, comfort becoming paramount. Yet even with comfort, merriment persisted, like the winds music stirring the ordinary days.
One evening Victor said, Grace, if you wish, you can go on your way. Id rather stay home. Works been a grind and Id like some peace. Ill even help Charlie with his maths.
Grace, surprised, replied, Really? Itll be a lively night with the friends.
Victor forced a crooked grin, Ill be the sourpuss in the corner. Theyll ask whats wrong, and what shall I say? That the boss gave me a silly task, or that the road was blocked?
Grace asked, You wont be upset if I go?
No, of course not, he said, his smile softening. Ill keep Charlie busy, watch a film, catch my breath. You enjoy yourself!
Later, a question haunted Victor: Why? He asked it each time they were invited to another event.
To go there, youd need a taxi, then be persuaded into another drink. Then youll hear all the news, but theres nothing new to tell. Late at night youll return home. At home there are countless chores, a pounding head in the morning, perhaps a pill. Why bother? Id rather stay and tell a plausible fib to spare feelings, and sit at home.
Grace spent a while attending gatherings alone, then it grew uncomfortable. It seemed she was a wife without a husband, a guest without a companion.
It wasnt that Victor had fallen out with anyone. He chatted nicely on the phone, helped whenever needed, whether the aid was for a leaky tap or a faulty socket. Even when a neighbours childs birthday passed without Victors presence, the next day Victors own father was fitting a new mixer in the kitchen.
Friends were still friends, though perhaps not as close as before.
Perplexed, Grace turned to her mother for counsel. Talk to your husband, not to me, Eleanor advised. But the fact that hes pulling away is a bad sign.
If a man chooses solitude, he wont stop until hes fully submerged in it.
What do you mean? Grace asked.
It means youll become a burden to himan extra weight. You must speak with him to understand why.
Men usually act on such steps only when things have already gone awry. Maybe Victors ill and hiding it, Eleanor suggested. Maybe hell forget friends altogether and eventually leave you, perhaps even move far away so you never cross paths again.
Grace, flustered, replied, He seems fine to me.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. Or perhaps his interests have shifted entirely. Old friends and family may be left behind for new horizons.
The conversation was inevitable, but a trigger was needed. Victors refusal to attend Garys birthday finally provided it.
Word for word, the scene unfolded.
Grace looked at Victor, astonished.
Dont think Im mad, Victor began, but Ive been pondering what truly matters in life. Ive found the answer: time. That limited resource, without which there is nothing.
Isnt it early for you to be thinking about time? Grace asked.
Victor shrugged, You say early, I say late! Two years ago we laid my father to rest.
Gone, he said, voice heavy. I thought, instead of slogging through that birthday, I could have spent those moments with my fathersitting, talking, or simply being together in silence. Now that chance is gone.
Grace smiled wryly, Thats life. We cant live forever. No one knows how much time they have.
Victor nodded, Right. Our parents arent immortal, nor are we. Our son Charlie will grow, start his own family, and his time for us will dwindle.
He added, Id rather have chased a ball with Charlie in the yard than polished Andrews salaryboosting bonus.
Grace, thoughtful, replied, So what are you driving at?
Victor frowned, We waste our hours on trivialities while the truly important things slip by. Instead of attending parties and retreats with strangers, we should spend that time with our own kinparents, children.
Grace fell silent.
Victor continued, Instead of Garys birthday, Id have rather watched a film with you, cooked dinner, talked about something pleasant. Spent an evening together as a family, maybe even played a round of bingo with Charlie.
Grace did not go to Garys celebration. She sent a phone greeting, and that night she stayed with Victor. The next morning they visited Victors mother, then after lunch they went to Graces parents. That proved far more precious than any gathering of acquaintances.
Regrettable, Victor mused, to squander time on foolish things when the important matters often lack the very time we need.
And so, looking back, I recall how the weight of years taught us that the greatest gift we can give each other is simply being present, sharing the ordinary moments that become, in hindsight, the true treasures of a life lived together.
