Do you realize, dear Elsie, that a woman like you will never find a husband, Arthur said calmly, there are women for romance and pleasant evenings, and there are those who save themselves for marriage. Unfortunately, you belong to neither.
What, Arthur, is wrong with me? I cook well, I look splendid, the house is spotless. Am I not a suitable lady for you? Elsie asked, surprised at the man she had once thought of as her lover.
Thats exactly the problem! Youre already spoiled. Understand this: men like me never take women like you as a wife. We merely have casual encountersno commitments. We marry virgins, women who are still pure, and you would be the first to lose that. A wife should be ready to wash a mans feet and drink the water he offers, as the proverb goes, Arthur finished, pleased with his final remark, turned to the wall and snored.
Just a week earlier Elsie had been at a tea room with her friends, boasting that life was finally falling into place. At thirty she was no longer a girl, but she had a career, a flat in Manchester, a modest Austin, and looked as fresh as ever. I could marry and have children now! And theres even a candidatepractically a dream, she declared.
Arthur was a bachelor, living alone, though he had jointly bought a house with his mother next door. Fourteen years her senior, handsome, well-groomed, almost free of bad habits, and holding a respectable post at the city council. Pure luck.
They had met at workhe came to her as a patient for a routine dental checkup and left with a flutter in his chest. Elsie then juggled two jobs, one at the NHS clinic and another at a private practice, leaving little time for herself. Then came the flowers, not the usual roses but a bouquet of peonies in February, a dinner at the Riverbank Restaurant, and everything seemed to spin.
Only one worry lingered: after two years together Arthur still hadnt proposed. The friends kept hinting, Its time for Elsie to settle down. She felt it too, so she broached the subject one night. His reply was that she was spoiled, unsuitable for marriage.
The words didnt settle in her mind. What does he think he can say? she thought. The next evening she met the friends again at the café, seeking counsel.
Imagine, girls, Elsie began, he told me Im no longer the one! That men like me dont marry women like us!
Youre serious? Margaret gasped. Youre beautiful, clever, independent!
He says he only marries virgins. He calls me a thirdrate, defective sort. And what now? Hes intelligent, has money, and were fine in bed.
Elsie, dump him before he shatters your selfesteem, Clare muttered.
Even betterbring him over to our cottage! Harold and I are celebrating ten years of marriage. Let him see what a proper family looks like, Margaret added.
They decided to invite him. Arthur, who seldom attended such gatherings, surprisingly agreed and even drove himself. Elsie already imagined a pleasant weekend with her friendsfinally she wouldnt have to navigate the road back.
At Margaret and Harolds country house the scene was homely: grandchildren playing, a barbecue, birds singing, and their terrier Rover darting about as if powered by an invisible battery. The feast stretched from noon until evening. The elders slipped away, the children fell asleep, and at the table remained the regularsthe friends, the hosts, and Arthur.
They sipped tea with a slice of berry tart and chatted. Then Arthur launched into his monologue once more:
Tell me, Margaret, why is Elsie still single? Youve been married ten years.
Not everyone falls in love on the third year of university, as I did, Margaret shrugged. Back then Elsie was studying and working, with no time for anything else.
Did you marry a virgin? Arthur asked.
Are you joking? Margaret laughed. Harold and I have been together since our first term!
But wasnt he the first? Arthur persisted.
Do you want to see our marriage certificate? Harold snapped. My wife is me, period.
See? She was pure. Thats respect. Marrying a woman whos had a few before you would be a disgrace to the family!
What sort of lineage demands you be without a past? Clare chuckled. So why give Elsie any hope?
I promised nothing to anyone, Arthur shrugged. Your friend should understand shes a secondrate woman. Marriage with her would need serious reasons, which I dont see.
So Im a thirdrate, divorced, mother of one, Clare smiled. Poor you, sir. You and your bloodline.
How do you speak to the women in my house? Harold roared. Youre a sort! Youre a stale herring! He grabbed Arthur and hauled him out into the garden. It was easyArthur was only six feet tall, whereas Harold stood a solid two meters.
Off you go! I wont let you ruin the celebration. If it werent for the girls, Id have put a spike in your head long ago. Youre not welcome here.
Elsie, Im leaving. Are you coming with me or staying? Arthur declared, snatching his suitcase.
Elsie burst into laughter, unable to answer. Arthur, not waiting for a reply, slammed the gate and drove off.
Well, Harold, thanks, Elsie giggled. Thats itno more men, not even a stale one!
Teaching him about marriage was a bad idea, Margaret said, smiling. What a character! Girls, listenhes the first sort, and youre already past that.
Their jokes lasted the whole evening. Later, Clare drove Elsie home. Life returned to the usual rhythm of patients and case notes. Arthur never called again.
Miss Elsie, a letter has been left for you at reception.
Thank you, dear Lily, Ill look at it later.
When the appointment ended, Elsie opened the envelope. Inside lay
