JUST IN CASE
Margaret glanced at her sobbing colleague with indifference, then turned back to her computer and began typing away at a remarkable speed.
“Cold-hearted, arent you, Margaret?” came the voice of Olivia, the head of their department.
“Me? Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Oh, come off it. Just because everything is golden in your personal life, doesn’t mean matters are so rosy for the rest of us. Look at poor Lydia, she’s beside herself, and you havent even so much as offered a kind word. Perhaps share some of your wisdom, seeing as youre so well-off.”
“Me? Share my wisdom? With her? I doubt Lydia would thank me for it. I did try once, years ago you werent here then back when shed come to work with bruises, saying she fell down the steps in the dark. It wasnt her bloke beating her, mind she genuinely did manage to clobber herself, always tripping over something. Oddly enough, as soon as her chap scarpered, the bruises vanished with him he was the third to run off, by the way.
That was when I thought Id be the supportive colleague and share some advice, so to speak. All it did was get me blamed. It was kindly explained to me later, by the rest of the team, that it was no use Lydia always knows best. In the end, I was just the wicked home-wrecker, interfering with her happiness. She was into fortune-tellers and love charms back then; now shes more modern and sees therapists, ‘working through her trauma.’ She doesnt seem to realise shes living out the same story, only the names change. So no, I wont be doting over her with tissues and sympathy.”
“Still, Margaret, you can’t just not care like this.”
At lunch, everyone gathered around one table, and the only topic of conversation was Lydias ex, a bounder and a cad. Margaret ate quietly, poured herself a cup of tea, and retreated to the corner to scroll through the news on her phone in peace.
“Margaret,” Tanya round-faced, always jolly, except today, when her cheerful countenance was clouded slid into the empty chair next to her. “Dont you feel even a smidgen of pity for poor Lydia?”
“Tanya, what do you lot want from me, honestly?”
“Oh, leave her be,” said Irene, breezing through, “Shes always like this shes got her beloved William, lives like a cat in clotted cream, can’t possibly relate to what its like being left alone with a child and not a soul to turn to for help. Try getting child support out of that, that sorry excuse for a father.”
“Shouldve thought before having a child not just with anyone and at her age, pardon me, ladies,” chimed in Mrs. Taylor, the oldest in the office, everyones favourite ‘Auntie Barbara.’ “Margarets right. How many times has Lydia cried over him? He was trouble even when she was expecting and before that, well…
The group of women clustered around the perennially sniffling Lydia, each offering her own brand of advice.
What then? Well, our fiercely independent Lydia decided to put on a brave face. No more tears. Her mum was summoned post-haste from a village in Kent to help with her son and Lydia began finding herself again. She got a fringe cut in, had her eyebrows microbladed, stuck on eyelashes, and considered a nose piercing until everyone talked her down.
And so it began.
“Never mind, Lydia,” the girls rallied, “Hell get whats coming, hell be the one crying next!”
“He wont cry,” murmured Margaret, more to herself, though the slightly tipsy crowd overheard.
“What do you mean he wont cry?”
“He wont. He wont regret it either. Lydiall find another just like him, sooner or later.”
“Easy for you to say, youve got William, and hes nothing like that, is he?”
“Nothing like that. William is the kindest, most loyal man alive never has a wandering eye, doesnt drink, wouldnt dream of laying a hand on me.”
“As if! Theyre all the same, trust me,” another chimed in. “You watch, Margaret someonell steal him away yet.”
“No chance, hes not that sort.”
“I wouldnt be so sure.”
“Well, be as you like.”
The wine had gone to everyones heads, and soon the group was bickering like wild cats.
“Lets go to yours, Margaret! Let’s see if William can resist such beauty,” someone dared. “Bet you wont invite us, afraid one of us will nick your perfect William!”
“Come if you like,” Margaret replied coolly.
“Come on, girls, lets all go steal William. Auntie Barbara, you joining?”
“No, darlings, Michaels waiting for me at home,” said Mrs. Taylor with a chuckle. “You go and have your fun.”
A laughing procession descended on Margarets cottage, bustling in the kitchen and guffawing as they threw together a hasty meal.
“Lets whip something up before William gets home. Hell be chuffed to see dinner ready,” someone suggested.
“Dont put yourselves out; hes a picky eater and doesnt eat much. But yes, hell be home shortly.”
The reply dampened some of the spirits, and the women eventually remembered their pressing tasks at home, saying their goodbyes. Only Lydia, Olivia, and Tanya stayed behind for tea, chatting distractedly as they waited to meet the mysterious William.
They started gathering their coats when the door finally opened.
“William, my darling boy,” crooned Margaret, tottering towards the hallway.
The women shrank at once, suddenly uneasy as a tall, handsome young man stepped in.
“Ah,” they thought silently, “so thats the trick hes much younger than Margaret!”
“Ladies, this is my son, Dennis,” Margaret introduced, smiling.
“Dennis? What about William?” the groups puzzled stares said.
“My son, Dennis. And William hows he doing, son?”
“Hes fine, Mum. Needs rest, but hell be running around in a day or two. Dont let him lick… you know.”
The women flushed, embarrassed.
“Perhaps we should be off…”
“Hang on, you havent met William yet but shhh, hes just come back from surgery. Dennis and Helen took him in while I was at work; poor lad had to be neutered after marking the curtains… come in.”
“There he is, my William, my sweet boy fast asleep.”
The women gawked. “Margaret, thats… a cat.”
“Of course, Williams my cat. What did you think?”
“But… your husband?”
“Oh, I havent got one. You lot just assumed. I once said I had myself a fine William, didnt get a word in edgeways, and well, you all filled in the blanks yourselves.
I married young first love, old story left school, had Dennis. Married for a few miserable years, then parted ways. My parents helped out. Second time was closer to thirty; good, solid sort he was. He had it all mapped out: Id give him a son and a daughter, and as for Dennis… well, we could send him to military school or to his nan.
In the end, I sent the husband to his own mother. He never did understand. His mother blamed me, saying no one wants someone elses child, though she herself remarried and raised a stepson just fine.
For ages, it was just Dennis and me. Third time round, I knew better not much of a catch anymore, but as they say, third time lucky. Trouble was, my new suitor gave me a black eye before the wedding called it mad passion, got jealous. But Dennis had done judo since he was six; Id often be his sparring mate at home, learned a move or two myself. Sent my Othello flying, and realised it was time to call it a day.
Dennis eventually married; I got lonely, so I brought William the cat home. Hes splendid company if I fancy the cinema, or a trip, hes always happy, and theres no strings attached for either of us. Sometimes I cook up a nice meal, invite him into the lounge he leaves content, no arguments, no explanations, and I neednt justify anything, either.
Dennis didnt understand at first asked why we didn’t all just live together. Why would we? Were adults, set in our ways. If wed been together since youth, like my brother and his wife thirty years, think as one, talk in chorus, like my parents then maybe. But Im not going to force things just to say Im married. No sense in it.
William and I get on famously. Isnt that right, love? Open those bright eyes I warned you, stop yowling and marking the curtains or youd lose your little crown jewels.”
As the women left, especially Lydia, they were lost in thought.
But Lydia well, she couldnt quite take Margarets path. Within a month, she was chirping about a new beau, showing off grand bouquets at work.
Margaret and Auntie Barbara just exchanged a private smile.
“And hows your Michael doing these days?”
“Oh, not bad, Margaret dear. Caught his paw on something out walking, but its healed as they say, healthy as a dog. The grandkids want me to show him at Crufts, but I wont torment my pet were quite happy as we are. See Lydias settled in again, hasnt she?”
“Aye, people get pets, others collect husbands…”
“Well, each to their own, I suppose. Maybe Lydias luck will hold this time.”
“Lets hope so…”
“What are you whispering about?”
“Were just hoping things work out for you, Lydia.”
“Ladies, I know how I must look, but honestly, I can’t bear being alone.”
“Thats your business, pet. No need to justify yourself everyone lives their own life…”
On her way to the car park, Margaret heard Lydias voice behind her.
“Margaret, if you dont mind, perhaps you could advise me on cats whats better, a tom or a queen?”
“Run along, youre expected somewhere… but come back if you must,” Margaret laughed. “Just in case…”
