LIKE A BIRD TO A CALLER
Girls, you should only marry once, and for life. You ought to stand by the one you love until your last breath, not float about forever looking for your other half. Otherwise, youll just end up like the last apple on the tree, pecked and unwanted.
A married man is off-limits. Dont even consider starting anything with one. You might think, just a quick fling, and well go our separate ways, but youll only end up tumbling into ruinboth of you. That sly happiness will drift right past you.
My parents have been together for fifty years. Theyre my living example. I promised myself to find my true match and treasure them more than anything thats what I used to tell my mates when I turned twenty. It was my grans wisdom that shaped me, and I trusted her words without question.
My friends would always titter and tease:
Oh, dont be ridiculous, Lucy. Wait until you fall for a taken man, well see if you really walk away
But of course, I hadnt told them how, before marrying my dad, my mum had my older sister by someone no one ever spoke about. It had been a stain on the whole village. Five years later, I was born, this time properly wed. My dad fell hopelessly in love with Mum, and they journeyed through life hand in hand. Still, we had to leave the village behind. So, early on, I set my mind: no children or men outside of marriage.
But life gave me a story all its own…
My sister, Sophie, and I were never close. She always believed Mum and Dad favoured me, not her. Sophie was forever jealous. We had this unspoken rivalry about who could win our parents love. Looking back, it seems so childish.
I met George at the village dance hall. He was training at Sandhurst, and I was a nurse at Kings Hospital. The music was lively, spirits high, and a flicker of romance sparked right away. Within the month, we married. For a while, happiness was bursting from our seams. I chased after George, caught up as though bewitched.
After George completed his officer training, we moved to his first posting a lonely army base in the far north, far from home. Of course, soon came the arguments, the misunderstandings, the rows. There was no one to confide in Mum was in another country.
Our daughter, Annie, was born. It was the early 90s. Everything felt uncertain. George left the army and started drinking heavily. At first, I pitied him, tried to comfort him. Things will look up, just hang on, Id tell him.
Hed half-listen, then sigh, Lucy, I know, honestly. But I cant help it. After a drink, the world slips on rose-tinted glassesI stop caring.
After a while, George just started disappearing, no word. Gone for a day, then a week. Once, he was away for a whole month. When he returned, he brazenly placed a briefcase stuffed with wads of pounds on the table.
Wheres all this from? I asked, my stomach tight with dread.
Whats it matter, Lucy? Use it, spend it. Therell be more, he smirked, delighted with himself.
I tucked that case away, just to be safe. Never touched a penny.
Then, George vanished again. He reappeared half a year later, skinny, drawn, and full of rage, his eyes empty and cold.
Lucy, take off your gold trinkets. I need to pay back some serious people, George mumbled, avoiding my eyes.
Theyre not just trinkets, theyre from my parents. I wont give them away, not for anything! Whats going on, George? Where have you been? Youve got a family, remember? I shouted.
Stop your screeching! Theres too much going on here and youre supposed to help me. Will you, Lucy? George moved toward me.
I lost my nerve and fetched that briefcase from the kitchen: Take your fortune. Annie and I can manage just fine.
George opened the case, frowned, Taken any from here?
Not a penny. That dirty money isnt for us.
Not enough anyway, he groaned. Never mind, Ill think of something.
That night, George was wild and untamed. I loved him desperately, forgave him everything.
The next morning, he packed his things.
How long will you be gone, George? I asked, searching his eyes.
No idea, Lucy. Wait for me, he replied, pecked my lips, and slipped out the door.
And I waited. One year. Then two.
At the hospital, one of the doctors, David, began to court me. He was married, which held me back, but not just that. I felt trapped in limbo still wedded, yet my husband had vanished for over two years. No messages, no letters from George.
Christmas was drawing near: oranges everywhere, tinsel, the smell of pine, and joy in the air.
Then the bell rang. George stood on the threshold.
I threw myself into his arms, smothering him with kisses.
At last, my love! Where have you been, George?
Hold on, Lucy, enough kisses. Listen… we must get divorced quickly. I have a son now. I dont want him growing up fatherless, George shifted nervously from foot to foot.
It all spun before my eyes. My love had crumbled long ago, just cinders beneath ash. Yet, I didnt flinch.
All right, George. As the saying goes, you cant unspill water. I wont hold you. After the holidays, well go and get it sorted. My life, turned out like a jacket inside out.
Dont you want to see Annie? Shes with her friend. Ill fetch her if you wait. Shell be fatherless too now, I jabbed, hoping to wound him.
Sorry, Im in a hurry. Next time, Ill hug Annie, George said, and with that, he was gone.
There never was a next time. George never saw Annie again. That meeting meant nothing to anyone. Kin became strangers.
David, sensing my loneliness, swept me up in a whirlwind of romance. Suddenly, it didnt matter that he was married. The old rules had vanished.
David knew how to charm. I gave in entirely, enchanted. Our affair lasted three years, until David asked me to marry him.
No, David. We cant build happiness on the tears of your wife and daughter. Our roads just don’t meet, I choked, barely able to speak.
In the end, I managed to break free from that madness, but had to take a job at another hospitalbest to be out of sight and out of mind.
Then came Martin.
He was raising his boy alone; his ex-wife had found herself a new family and left their son with him. I met Martin while he was being treated at the hospital.
Always quick with a joke, Martin won my heart with his playful way. His son, Daniel, was seven; my Annie, eight. It was clearperhaps the fates had been kind at last. Everything finally fit together. The children grew, sometimes giving us trouble, but Martin and I shared every joy and challenge. No secrets, only togetherness. I was lucky the second time around. I guard him like the apple of my eye. Martin is my light.
Weve been married thirty years now.
Not long ago, George rang my mum: Ive never met a woman quite like LucySometimes I catch myself watching the birds that gather on our windowsillrobins, blackbirds, a flighty sparrow or two. They never stay long, but somehow, they never seem truly lost. Martin laughs at me, says I have a secret language with them. Maybe I do. Maybe life is just calling, time and again, andlike a birdI have learned to answer: to return, to choose, to settle with open wings where love is real.
Annie still visits on Sundays. Shes older now, her face aglow with the warmth Id once tried so hard to find in myself. Daniel brings his own little ones, their shouts and laughter making the house bright. Pictures fill every shelfold faces, new memories, all tangled together, imperfect but belonging.
I sometimes think of George. I wonder if he ever found a home, if his son looks for answers in his silence. As for David, I hope someone mended what we broke. And my sister Sophie? We talk now and then, both a little softer with the years, the edge of rivalry worn smooth by distance and time.
Gran was right in some ways, and wrong in others. There are no perfect halves, no unpecked apples left shining on the tree. Theres only the livingforgiving whats past, clutching joy where you find it, building nests from bits and scraps. If love calls, answer, but do not chase after shadows. Hold what you have and let the wind carry the rest away.
Here, with Martins steady hand in mine and the hush of evening growing outside, I finally understand: life doesnt give you what you plan, but sometimesif youre luckyit gives you exactly what you need.
