A Carer for the Wife
What do you mean? I could barely believe what I was hearing. Where am I supposed to go? Why? For what reason?
Oh, lets not have a scene, he grimaced, as if the whole matter was a tiresome inconvenience. Whats unclear? Theres nothing for you to do here anymore. Where you end up is not my concern.
Edward, are you serious? We were going to get married, werent we?
That was all in your head. I never promised you anything of the sort.
At 32, ILinda Turnerhad made a drastic change and left the little village where I grew up. What was left for me there? My mothers never-ending nagging?
She simply couldnt get over my divorce, as if it was the ultimate failure, telling me over and over how Id let a good husband slip through my fingerseven though, in truth, Mark was a useless drunk and a womaniser. I still dont know how I wound up married to him for eight years.
Oddly, I didnt feel one bit of regret when it ended. Actually, I could breathe so much more easily. The only trouble was having to argue with Mum about it all the time. That, and the constant fights about the lack of money.
So I decided Id have a fresh start in the city and find my place there. If my old school friend Susan could do it, why couldnt I? Shed been married to a widower for five yearsnot exactly a heartthrob and a good sixteen years older than her, but with a comfortable flat and a steady income. And I wasnt any less than Susan!
Thank goodness youve finally come round! Susan agreed. Pack your bags and come stay with us at first. Well sort out the job situation together.
Wont your husband mind, though? I hesitated.
John? As if! He does whatever I ask. Dont worry, well get through, you and I!
Still, I couldnt bear to overstay my welcome. After a couple of weeks on Susans sofa and with my first earnings in hand, I rented a room of my own.
And then, just a few short months later, luck landed right in my lap.
Why is a woman like you selling goods at the market? came a sympathetic voice. It was Edward Browning, a regular customer. Id known the regulars by name for ages now.
Its cold and miserable, he continued. You shouldnt be out here.
What choice do I have? I said, flicking my hand dismissively. A girls got to make a living somehow.
I added a teasing note, Unless youve got a better offer?
Edward certainly didnt strike me as Prince Charming. He mustve been at least twenty years older than me, puffy-faced, with thinning hair and those eyes that saw straight through you. He was fussy about his fruit and veg and always counted his change. But he arrived in a smart car, dressed neatlyno way was he a layabout.
There was a wedding ring on his finger, so I never thought of him as husband material anyway.
I can see youre responsible and dependable. Ever done care work? he asked, dropping the formalities.
I have, actually. My old neighbour had a stroke. Her kids were too busy to look after her, so they asked me.
Perfect! He suddenly looked very sombre. See, my wife Pamela is in bed these daysstroke, same as your neighbour. Doctors say the chances arent good. I brought her home, but I just cant manage alone. Would you help? Ill pay you properly.
I didnt need long to decide. Anything was better than freezing in a draughty market stall all day, serving fussy customers. And Edward offered me a proper room to live in, toono need to pay rent!
Theyve got three separate bedroomsenough space to host a football match! I told Susan, thrilled. No kidsjust us.
Pamelas mother was a formidable woman, still trying to look younger than her sixty-eight years. Recently remarried and always busy with her new husband, she certainly wasnt about to take on carer duties.
How bad is his wife, really? Susan asked.
Its rough. The woman just lies there, barely conscious. She wont recover.
At that, Susan looked me hard in the face. And youre happy about that?
Of course not! I looked away. Still when shes gone, Edward will be on his own.
Linda! Are you wishing for someone to die, just for a flat?
Id never wish it, but I wont throw away my chance either! Easy for you to judge, with your perfect life.
That argument ended badly, and we didnt speak for months. It was six months before I admitted to Susan that, yes, Edward and I had become a couple.
We couldnt bear to be apart, but hed never leave his wifehes not that kind of man! So we lived as lovers, quietly.
So, youre playing happy families, and his wifes at deaths door in the next room? Susan was unimpressed. Do you even realise how sordid this is? Or are you blinded by his supposed riches?
Trust you to never say a kind word, I snapped. We fell out again. But honestly, I didnt feel much guiltwell, maybe just a tiny bit.
People love to feel superior. Lets see them walk a mile in my shoes. Anyway, I put my all into caring for Pamela. And once Edward and I became close, I managed all the chores as well.
A mans happiness isnt just about the bedroomyouve got to cook, wash, press his shirts, keep the place spotless.
It seemed to me Edward was happy, and I enjoyed my new life too. I suppose I let it slip my mind that he stopped paying me my carers wages a while ago. But what for, when we were almost a married couple?
He gave me money for groceries and the odd household expense, and I handled the budget, hardly noticing I was just scraping by.
Edwards job as a workshop manager paid handsomely. Not that it matteredwed work it all out once wed made things official.
Gradually, our passion cooled and he seemed less eager to come home. I told myself it was just the strain of living with an ailing wife. He barely saw hersometimes only once a daybut I pitied him.
Despite knowing it was coming, I cried when Pamela finally passed away. Id devoted a year and a half to that poor womanyou cant just erase that time.
I arranged the funeral too, as Edward was too grief-stricken. He barely gave me enough to cover the costs, but I managed respectfully. The neighbours, whod always eyed me askance, nodded approvingly at the ceremony. Even Pamelas mother seemed pleased.
So I never expected what came next.
“As you can see, I dont require your services anymore, so Ill give you a week to move out,” Edward said bluntly, ten days after the funeral.
What do you mean? I repeated in disbelief. Where am I supposed to go? Why?
Oh, for goodness sake, spare me the drama, he muttered. Theres no one for you to care for anymore. Where you end up is your problem, not mine.
Edward, what about us getting married?
That was your idea, not mine. I never said I would.
The next morning after a sleepless night, I tried again. But he only repeated the same words and urged me to hurry with moving out.
My fiancée wants to redecorate before our wedding, he added pointedly.
Fiancée? Who is she?
Thats none of your business.
Oh, its not, is it? Fine. Ill gobut you owe me wages. Dont look at me like that! You promised me £800 a month, and I only received two payments. By my count, thats £12,800 you owe.
Well, look who can do sums, he sneered. Dont get too excited
Youll also need to pay for all the cleaning and laundry and cooking I did! I wont quibble over every pennylets call it £20,000 and part ways, clean and simple.
And if I dont? You going to sue me? You dont even have a contract.
Ill let Pamelas mother know. It was her who bought this flat after all. You know how she can be. Ill tell her everything, and youll be out of a job.
Edwards face darkened but he composed himself. Whod believe you? Dont threaten me. In fact, I dont want to see youget out now.
You have three days, my darling. No money? Therell be a scene, I replied, packing my bags and heading for a hostel. Id managed to put aside a little from the grocery allowance.
On the fourth day, with no word from him, I went round to the flat. As luck would have it, Pamelas mother, Barbara, was there.
Edwards face said it allhe wasnt going to pay me. So I laid everything out for Barbara then and there.
Shes making it up! Losing her marbles! Dont listen to her! Edward protested.
Barbara fixed him with a glare. I heard rumours at the funeral, but I didnt want to believe them. Now its all clear. You havent forgotten, I hope, that the flat is in my name?
Edward froze.
Make sure you and your things are gone within the week. Nomake that three days. She started to leave, then paused next to me.
And you, Linda, what are you waiting for? A medal? Be off!
I ran out of there as if Id been burnt. I knew thered be no money at all now. Looks like its back to the market for me. At least theres always work to be found thereThe harsh spring wind bit my cheeks as I stepped into the street, my suitcase in one hand, dignity in the other. I let out a raspy laughwhere was all that fresh start optimism now? If Mum could see me, shed say: You chase after men, you end up with nothing. Maybe she was right.
But as I made my way to the bus stop, my phone buzzeda message from Susan. Just a thumbs-up emoji. I nearly sobbed with gratitude. Maybe I hadnt lost everything, after all.
I didnt go back to the market. I found a job in a care homenot glamorous, but honest, and the residents needed me. I checked the mirrors less often; their gratitude meant more than any mans praise. And, surprisingly, I started sleeping well again.
Now, on Sundays, I meet Susan for coffee, and we laugh about city life, marriage, missteps. Sometimes I feel the ache of regretthen I remember: I survived. I learned. I have a roof over my head, decent work, andbest of allmy life belongs to me, at last.
I walk home past blooming lilacs, breathing in the bittersweet city air, my head held high. The world is full of endings and beginnings. And as for lovewell, let it find me on my own terms this time.
