LIFE IN ORDER
“Vivian, I forbid you to speak with your sister and her family! They have their own lives, and so do we. You called Emily again, didnt you? Complaining about me? Ive warned you before. Dont blame me if something happens,” said Charles, gripping my shoulder sharply.
As I always did in these moments, I left the room wordlessly and retreated to the kitchen. Bitter tears welled in my eyes. No, I never grumbled to my sister about my life with Charles. We simply spoke, nothing more. Our parents were elderly; there was much to discuss and to sort out. But that infuriated Charles. He couldnt stand my sister Emily. Her home was peaceful and comfortable, with none of the difficulties that weighed upon Charles and me.
When I married Charles, there wasnt a happier girl in all of England. Charles swept me away in a whirlwind of passion. I didn’t mind in the slightest that my groom was a full head shorter than me, nor did I pay much heed to his mother, who arrived at our wedding barely able to stand. It turned out later that my mother-in-law was a seasoned alcoholic.
Blinded by love, I saw nothing amiss. Yet after a year of marriage, my certainty crumbled. Charles drank heavily, often coming home drunker than the cellars last cask. Next came a string of affairs. I worked as a nurse at the local hospitalwages rather modest. Charles preferred spending his time in pubs with his companions. He would not support me, and, after my early dreams of children, I found myself investing my care in a fine tabby cat instead. The thought of having children by a drunken husband no longer appealed; and still, confusingly, I loved Charles.
Youre daft, Vivian! my friend and colleague, Nicole, would scold me. “Just look at the way men look at you, hanging about, hoping for a glance. Meanwhile, youre fixated on your little tyrant! What on earth do you see in him? You always turn up with bruisesdo you think we cant tell, even under your make-up? Leave him before he does any worse to you.”
It was trueCharles was quick to anger and even quicker to violence. Once he beat me so badly I couldnt go in for my shift. Worse still, he locked me in the flat and took the keys. From then on, I was scared to death of him. My soul shrank; my heart clattered whenever I heard his key in the lock. I felt he was punishing me: for not giving him a child, for being a poor wife, for… well, everything. So I never fought backat the blows, the insults, the mockery. Why did I go on loving him?
I remembered his mother, looking every inch a witch, warning me, Vivian, always listen to your husband, love him heart and soul, and forget your family and friendstheyll bring you nothing but trouble. So I abandoned friendship, shunned my family, and submitted. I was entirely under Charless thumb.
I even liked it when Charles would beg for forgiveness, crying at my feet and kissing them. Our reconciliations were syrupy-sweet, magical. Hed shower our bed with rose petalsroses hed pilfered from a neighbour. She grew them for herself, but her husband, half-cut as always, would sell them to his drinking pals for a pittance. Neglected wives would forgive their errant husbands at the sight of those extravagant roses.
Most likely, I would have crawled through life at Charless side forever, endlessly rebuilding my little patch of paradise each time he shattered it. But fate, as it sometimes kindly does, intervened.
Let Charles go. I have a son with him. Youre barren, Viviana dead end, a stranger told me bluntly one cold evening, stark as the moons edge.
I dont believe you! Leave at once, I snapped at the unwelcome guest.
Charles denied it with all he had.
“Swear it isnt your son,” I said, knowing full well he could never deny his own child.
His silence told me everything.
Vivian, Ive never seen you look happy. Is it troubles at home? Suddenly, Dr. Graham, our hospitals head physician, took notice. Id always thought he paid me no mind, and now here he was, showing concern.
Its nothing,” I fumbled, embarrassed before the boss.
Its good when things are in order, Vivian. Lifes wonderful, when thats the case…” he replied, almost philosophically.
Dr. Graham, so rumour had it, had divorced his wife after her betrayal and now lived alone at forty-two. Bashful, bespectacled, balding, and not particularly tall, yet there was something undeniably stirring about him, a tantalising hint of cologne trailing after him. I found myself running from temptation whenever he drew near.
After Dr. Grahams words, I felt restless. Its good when things are in order. Such simple wordsthey cut right to the core. My own life was utter chaos, racing ahead without pause or respite.
So, at last, I left Charles and returned to my parents home.
My mother was shocked. Vivian, love, whats happened? Did Charles turn you out?
No, Mum. Ill explain later,” I mumbled, burning with shame at the thought.
Later, Charless mother phoned, cursing me up and down. But I straightened my back, filled my lungs with fresh air, and at last, renewed myself. Thank heaven for Dr. Graham.
Charles flew into rages, sent threats, tried to track me down. But he no longer had any power over me.
Charles, dont waste your breath on me. Your son needs you now. Our time together is over. Farewell, I told him, calm as could be.
I eventually found my way back to Emily and my parents. At last, I was myself againa woman, not a marionette.
Nicole, my friend, noticed instantly: Vivian, youve changed. You look fresh, livelyyoure glowing like a bride!
And soon Dr. Graham asked for my hand.
Vivian, will you marry me? I promise, youll never regret it. Just one thingcall me Graham, not Doctor.
Do you love me, Graham? I asked, surprised by my own boldness.
Oh, forgive me, he smiled. I keep forgetting women need words. Yes, I do, though I believe more in actions than speeches.” He kissed my hand tenderly.
I do, Graham. I know Ill come to love you, I replied, flooded with happiness.
…A decade swept by.
Every day, Graham proved his devotionnot with empty words or flowery gestures, but with care, protection, and quiet generosity. We never had children togetherit seemed my fate was to remain childless. But Graham never grieved, never reproached, not with a single word.
Vivian, it must be meant to be, just the two of us. Youre all I need, he would say, his voice gentle, whenever I mourned what might have been.
Grahams daughter blessed us with a granddaughter, little Alexandraour joy and delight.
As for Charles, he finally drank himself to death before he was fifty. His mother still occasionally shoots daggers at me from across the market, but her venom no longer reaches meit dissolves into thin air. I pity her, nothing more.
And as for Graham and me, alls well. Life is beautiful.
