Well, you see, Victor spat, I took her, shes my wife now, and she cant cook a proper roast nor wash a shirt without turning it inside out. Victor perched on a splintered log outside his neighbours cottage, eyes trailing the dim outline of his thatched home, where his young wife still slumbered.
His neighbour, Nick, fiddled with a wrench on his battered motorbike.
Come on, Vic, the wedding was just yesterday. Let the old lady recover a bit.
What? I dont want to hear about that blasted ceremony. She wore me out that day.
Wore you out? Nick asked, feigning concern.
Victor cracked a sunflower seed shell and scowled.
Exactly! She started mocking me the moment I trudged to her place with a dowry. In the yard she spent half the day juggling riddles, dancing a gypsy jig, and her new trousers tore from the strain.
Your father gave you those breeches, and you married in them. By the time I reached her room Id walked through a dozen circles of hell, only to find the window openshed leapt out and vanished. The whole hamlet hunted for her half a day, then found her giggling, saying shed changed her mind. When I crushed her bouquet she sobbed. You think Im joking? On the wedding day she pretended to be a dove, as if I forced her into marriage. At the banquet she wouldnt let anyone touch her, fearing Id soil her dress. Youve got greasy fingers from eating fried fish, she hissed. My dress is silk, not a napkin.
Nick set his wrench aside, scratched under his cap and muttered, Well, Vic, Im speechless. You know my sister Emilyshe never caused such drifts.
Every woman is a woman, but mines a proper nightmare. I get up at dawn, toil all day, and she just lies there! She could at least put the kettle on.
Does she refuse work? Nick asked, surprised.
She wont look for a job. She says she needs a break after school. Mother and my aunt slip her cash for hairpins, otherwise shed shake me all night.
Nick frowned, leaned close, and whispered, Youre in a rotten pickle, Vic. Youve picked a lazy wifesend her packing until she bears children, if she ever does.
Didnt I know the Craddocks raised their daughter to be idle? They bragged about her as gold, but it was a lie. Now they dump her like ballast, and Im the fool left holding the weight.
In the quiet English hamlet, the river murmured, crickets sang among the hedgerows, cows lowed in the distance, and a lone dog barked while roosters crowed. Dusty tractors and motorbikes rumbled over the lane, their metal buckets clanging.
Colin! shouted a voice from a cottage window. Dinners ready, come in!
Victor turned lazily toward his own house, his motorbike hissing beneath him. From the newlyweds home, gossip floated on the wind, and Nick could hear every syllable through the cracked panes.
Victor, peel the potatoes, Ill fetch the onions, cooed the soft, purring voice of Lily.
Why am I the one chopping veg? Thats a wifes job, Nick heard Victors neighbour call out. Im already carving the chicken.
Ha, Nick chuckled, theyre only simmering the stew, but mines already on the table!
Im busy, Lilys delicate voice drifted, Im untangling my curls.
Oh, youll hear from me yet, Lily! Victor muttered.
Im trying to look pretty for you, not a dull housemaid. When I style my hair I feel like a film star, like Sophia Loren. Everyone says so. Youll seethere are videos, even DVDs.
Nick shook his head, peering through the neighbours curtains. What will she answer?
He abandoned his bike, slipped through the garden, and slipped silently into the window. Inside, Victors young wife twirled in the centre of the room, her hair a lofty plume. Nick scanned for Victor and spotted him at the table, head bowed over a bowl.
Later, Nick ate soup without appetite, glanced at his wifes satisfied face and sighed. Can you imagine, Emma, how they swindled Victor?
What happened? she asked.
He married Lily Craddock, the new girl from the city. They say shes a teacher, but she never finished her training.
I remember hershe was a snotnose, always dreaming of dances and dresses. Victor shouldve taken your sister Margaret instead; shedve been a better match.
Emma turned her round, flourdusted face away. She didnt want to speak of Margaret. Margaret had been plump and clumsy, much like Emma once was. Emma had been thin in her youth, married Colin before she grew round, while Margaret never got that luck. Over the years both sisters had become small, round like dumplings.
The neighbours house thumped with loud music and womens laughter. Nick raised his eyebrows, watched through the windows, and shook his head.
Victor, he called, finding him in the garden tending tomatoes, what chaos is that in your house? Such racket in the middle of the day?
Its Kolbys friend, Lucy, from the city. Shes noisy, turned the record player on as soon as she arrived.
Nick shot a reproachful glance. How long will you tolerate this foolishness, Victor? You labour in the fields, while your wife giggles and dabbles. Shes no longer a child to play with! Shes a wife, a future mother, a keeper of the hearth! You must drive her out, toss the record out the window. My women have no friends, just knitting socks in their spare time!
Victors face fell, his eyes hardened. Go on, Nick, tell your own wife what to do. Ill manage my own.
The next day rain fell in a relentless sheet. Grey clouds promised no sun. Emma was at the stove, stirring jam, while Nick wandered from corner to corner.
Bored, Emma?
Go mushroompicking. Put on a raincoat, fresh fungi will pop up after the downpour, she suggested.
No, I dont want to go alone.
Then call Victor.
Nick sighed, Hell probably be angry at me. He peered out the window and saw Victor trudging toward his house with a bag.
Hello, neighbours, Victor said, pushing the door open with a creak.
Nick greeted him, Colin, Ive smoked some fish myself. Want a taste?
Victor relaxed, smiling. Great, I love fish. Shall we have tea in the kitchen?
Silence fell over the table until Nick finally asked, Hows married life? Did your guest leave?
She left.
Nick folded a newspaper, returned to his chores. Victor, youve been hard on your wife. Whats she up to now?
Lily went to the shop.
And what does she buy? A sack of dumplings and lipstick, perhaps? Nick mused. My Kat thinks she saw Lily at the counter ordering cosmetics, not groceries for the family.
Emma, stirring the pot, fell silent, her eyes dropping.
Let her buy what she wants. Shes always painting herself up, Victor muttered.
What for? Nick pressed.
Weve decided our women should help each other. My Kat will teach yours to clean and cook, not just sit on the sofa.
Victor declared, Lily, we need to talk.
Darling? his wife turned, a gasp escaping her. You look different, I cant tell what youve done.
Lily had dyed her thick chestnut hair white, added false lashes, and highlighted her brows.
Do you like it? she asked, thrilled.
Of course youre a whole new woman. You were pretty, now youre a beauty.
Its thanks to my friend Tanya, who works in a salon. She did my lashes, brows, and hair.
Lilys neighbour, Emma, laughed, Why not? Im all for it. Ill go to her house right now.
Lily spritzed herself with sweet perfume, slipped into a gorgeous dress, painted her lips, and left. She returned later, calmer, shedding the dress for a nightgown, washing her face, and tying her lavish hair into a knot.
Victor, she sat on the sofas edge, youve been complaining about me to the neighbours, havent you?
I?
You, you. I overheard everything. If youre unhappy, just say so! Stop blaming strangers, Victor.
She dropped her face into her hands and wept. From that day she changed dramaticallyno more staring at mirrors, no more giggling at herself. She boiled pots, baked pies, and every evening she trudged to the neighbours house, returning as black as a storm cloud, silent and brooding. Her smile vanished, the house lost its laughter, the music ceased.
Then one morning she was gone. Victor rose early, found the bed empty, the house quiet, only a note pinned to the door:
Victor, Ive decided Im a bad wife. You nag me, you complain to the neighbours, its too much. Im leaving. Dont look for meyoull never find me. Goodbye.
What on earth? Lily, my Lily! Victor wailed.
Nick rushed over, trying to console him.
She ran, let her run. Shell find a road in the city, itll be brighter there. I told you shed be a bad wife, I was right. Dont worry, Vic, well find you a proper wife, one that works.
In the same instant, Victors neighbours wife, Emma, burst through his door with her younger sister, roundfaced Mabel, suitcases in hand.
Isnt Mabel a wife for you? Nick joked, slapping Victors forehead. Victor turned away, scowling.
Later, Nick stared out at Victors cottage, muttering, Why cant I stay home? No one to fish with me. Emma!
What are you shouting about? Emma answered from the kitchen, irritated.
Lately, a dark cat seemed to have crossed their marriage; Emmas temper had shifted after befriending Lily, and Nick felt the strain.
Whats this about Emma? As if you cant manage without me. Youve dumped all the housework on me; I cant breathe.
Nick entered the kitchen anxiously, Are you tired?
Emma lifted her eyes, Am I not a human in your eyes? A workhorse? I want perfume, lipstick I want to look at myself in the mirror, to shop in the city, try on dresses
Nick finally understood. Its Lilys influence.
Its not Lilys fault, Emma sighed. I cant see a life with you, Colin. Im stuck at the stove, tending cattle. When was the last time I danced? At our school prom with you. Oh, Colin
Victor returned to the village, eager to nail windows and doors. Nick heard the hammer and rushed over.
What are you doing, Vic?
Nick halted at the gate, eyes wide.
Im moving, neighbour.
Where to?
Nicks mouth fell open.
Im Colin, Im heading to the town centre. Theyve got a club, a café, somewhere to take a wife.
What wife? Lily ran off.
I found her
Victor turned to Nick, grinning. Found my Lily. She got a job in the town centre, rented a flat. Im going after her.
Nicks astonishment turned to a shout. Youve gone mad, Vic! Trusting that reckless woman! How will you live with such a fool? You said you married because you were tired of her whims Youll return without trousers, without a wife! Dont be foolish, listen to metake my sister Mabel instead. Shell cook stews, bake pies, wash shirts.
Victor laughed, shaking his head. Happiness isnt in pies, its in a beloved woman, Colin. Well eat readymade meals, but shemy beautywill be by my side!
Nick kept shouting, but Victor only chuckled and left.
Stupid fellow, Nick muttered, married a daft woman and became the same. A pair of mismatched shoes.
Nick trudged back home, sighing. At the doorstep, his wife Emma sat on the step, suitcase in her lap.
What are you doing here? Nick asked, bewildered.
Its Colin. Ive had enough. Im leaving you.
Where to?
Emma sobbed, dropping her head on her chest. Where do you think Im looking, Colin? I see no life with you. Im heading to the town centre for work! Im tired of toiling for you! Maybe I want the freedom Lily has Oh, dear Colin.
She wept loudly; Nick gently lifted her suitcase and embraced her trembling form.
She could have just said she was tired, knocked the table with her fist If I hadnt heard her, Id have ignored you, Emma
The old stereotypes cracked in Nicks mind, crumbling like dry hedgerows.
