How many times did I warn him that he ought not marry her? Even before the wedding, I practically begged him. But did he listen? No. He was besotted. And now, well, he reaps what he has sown.
A few days ago, my son telephoned me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was unwell. You see, a mother always knows. He asked if I could come round. Said his wife, though well aware he was poorly, had packed her bag and gone off to her friends. No one was there to even make him a cup of tea or a bit of broth.
She wouldnt even pick up his calls. It was already late, but I hurried to him all the same. On the way I stopped at the chemists and bought some medicine. My mind wandered to her as I walked: how could she leave her poorly husband behind to go cavorting with her friends? When I arrived, my son looked dreadful, as if hed been laid low for days. I nearly called for the doctor, but he pleaded with me to hold off.
He was terribly feverish. The flat was bareno food, not a drop of medicine to be found, only her slimming tablets and an empty echo where the fridge ought to have been stocked. Good thing Id brought a bite to eat and the pills, otherwise hed have had nothing. I nearly lost my temper. What sort of woman leaves her husband in such a state? I boiled a kettle, gave him a hot drink, and dashed to the corner shop for some chicken to make broth.
Once hed eaten and rested, his fever subsided, and he seemed on the mend. And as for his lovely wifeshe waltzed in at three in the morning, reeking of gin. She must have had herself a fine night. She didnt so much as pay heed to my mention of the medicine. Only out of care for my son did I hold my tongue, but truth be told, it was all I could do to refrain from causing a row then and there. I fear my son wasnt far from it himself.
