Difficult Man
Good heavens, Julian! Must you be so difficult all the time? Why cant you just do as I ask for once?
The young woman, her tone edged with frustration as she scolded her husband, was dazzling in a way that made passersby crane their necks as she made her way through the hotels rose garden. Tall and elegant, with long limbs, auburn waves tumbling down her back, and striking sapphire blue eyes, she carried herself with a self-assuredness that seemed almost effortless.
Julian, though, couldnt have been more different. Not much taller than her shoulder, with the build of a barrel and thinning hair, he looked at odds with his radiant wife. Yet, he had eyes so quick and bright, so piercingly intelligent, that people felt sure he could see straight through them. And that only made their pairing more notablea haughty beauty, and the man who quietly, irrevocably understood her.
They were an odd couple, a modern-day Hephaestus and Aphrodite, if you replaced the smiths hammer with a child always cradled in his arms.
Their daughter, little five-year-old Pippa, had inherited her fathers unruly copper curls and droll features, with only her mothers icy blue eyes as a sign of their kinship. She darted through the corridors and lounges of the Cheltenham country hotel like a streak of lightning, her father in earnest pursuit, as guests smiled at her wild abandon.
If you really want to go on this bloody tour, Christina, then go. But I think Pippa is far too little for it. Its a long drive, and its sweltering. Shell get cranky and make the whole outing miserable. You know she will!
And what are you for then? Christinas voice rose, teetering on hysteria. Julian, I came here with my husband! I can barely take a step without men bothering me at the bar. Doesnt that bother you? Or do you not care at all?
At her mothers pitch, Pippa wrapped her arms tighter around Julians neck and pressed her nose into his collar, seeking comfort.
Darling, you know Im madly jealous, Julian offered a wan smile, stroking his daughters curls. How about we find something else? A boat trip? Scuba diving? What would you genuinely enjoy?
I want the bloody ruins! Christina snapped. She turned away abruptly. Fine, you two dont want to comewell, Ill just go alone!
The scene unfolded perfectly; Julian could only shrug helplessly as his wife strutted toward the pool, leaving him and Pippa behind without a second glance. He was used to this by now; their marriage functioned like so many among their set. He, successful and perpetually busy; she, beautiful, young, content to let herself be adored.
Hed never understood how hed become one of those fashionable husbands. Julians luck with women had always been indifferent. His appearance played little parthis failing was elsewhere. He simply didnt know how to connect with women when they werent business partners or colleagues. In meetings, he was charming, witty, well-mannered. But lovewell, love had always made him tongue-tied and awkward. After enough mortifying attempts, hed surrendered hope, throwing himself into his work, the occasional Sunday roast with his mother, Janet, at her cottage in Oxfordshire, and resigned himself to lifelong bachelorhood.
Janet herself, though, had other ideas.
Julian! Ive watched you long enough! Youll never marry on your own. We need a matchmaker! shed declared over an August afternoon tea, as he coughed and spilled his Earl Grey on a brand new tweed coat.
Oh no, Mum not one of your schemes
Nonsense! Describe her! Everything! You know what you want, so write it all down. Ill see what can be done.
That evening, Julian humoured her, more in self-defence than anything, dazzling as an interrogator as ever. At Janets nudging, things hed never dared voicehis hopes, his fearsspilled onto the page.
Such a woman doesnt exist, he muttered, bemused as he read his own list back.
Well see, Janet sniffed, taking the list for safekeeping.
And somehow, Janet found Christina. She ticked every boxat least outwardly. But it took marriage for him to see what lay beneath.
It became clear their union was little more than a contract. Over time, he discovered this wasnt uncommon. Christina never meant to spend her days roasting chicken or running a hoover round the hall. She remained entirely devoted to herself. They shared a grand house in the Cotswolds, but in separate bedrooms: she insisted his snoring made sleep impossible. Whether he snored or not, Julian didnt care. For the woman he loved, hed put up with anything.
Christina refused to have children at first. But knowing, in her view, a child was part of the arrangement, she negotiated a few years delay.
Im still young. I want to see the world. Youll make that happen for me, wont you, darling?
He agreed. They travelled, they hosted, they learned to tolerate each other.
Pippas birth, at last, brought a fragile peace. Julian was thrilled, rushing home nightly to dote on his daughter. His one disappointment? Christina remained an indifferent mother.
I wont breastfeed. I wont have surgery to lift things back up afterwards. Get a nurse or bottlesplenty of babies thrive on formula. Your mum said you did, and look how you turned out. I dont see the issue!
No amount of coaxing from Julian or Christinas mother, Margaret, could sway her. So Pippa chomped on bottles, and Julian hired a nanny.
This is insufferable! Im stuck inside all day with a wailing baby while youre at work! Christina moaned. What do you want, post-natal depression?
Margaret put her foot down when Julian suggested a nanny.
No, Ill do it. Im her grandmother. Why should a stranger raise your daughter?
Julian, relieved, agreed. Their first real marital row followed.
Why do we need my mum here? To lecture me? I thought you were helping, not ganging up! Julian, why do you make everything so hard? Dont you love me at all?
I do, Christina. But I love our child, too. You barely see her. Let her have someone who cares for her.
Christinas interest in Pippa was as extravagant as it was shallow: lavish toys, exquisite dresses, a nursery to show off to her friends. But as soon as her guests left, it was back to disinterest. From the start, Pippa slept in Julians room, her cot tucked near his bed, her comfort found with himor with her grandmother.
I love her! In my own way! Christina insisted, breaking down in rare, bitter tears. Julian couldnt find the will to console her.
My deal is final. Margaret will mind Pippa unless you step up. This is how it is, for now.
Christina soon decided peace was preferable to conflict, and her mothers presence granted her the freedom she craved. So life settled. Pippa thrived, first at ballet, then at a private prep school, shuttled by Margaret on weekday mornings. She racked up flights and holidays, adapting to hotels as naturally as homeso long as her father was with her.
This trip, too, was uneventfuluntil Pippa spiked a fever and complained of a headache.
There we are! Holiday, ruined! Christina paced the suite as Julian waited for the hotel doctor.
Honestly, Christina! Our daughter is ill!
Its just a cold. I said not to give her all that ice cream! You always pander to her, and now lookfather of the year! What now?
We wait for the doctor.
Julians tone so silenced her that Christina lowered her gaze and said no more.
Alright. Just asking
The doctor found nothing serious: Over-tired, a bit of rest will do the trick.
Julian nodded, but sent for the airline and began packing. Were going home.
Why? Christina wailed. The doctor says shes fine!
His opinion is not gospel. A five-year-old shouldnt have headaches. If shes old enough to say shes unwell, she is. No arguing. Pack.
The London hospital confirmed he was right. Life staggered to a halt.
One appointment led to another, but Pippa neither worsened nor recovered; a good sign, but not enough. Julian handed his job to his deputies and barely left her side, only going home to shower and change. Christina sat with them, but as the weeks dragged on, it became clear to the staff: she was merely set dressing. She knew nothing of her daughters care, smiled prettily, and deflected questions behind tears. Outsiders mistook her tears as devotion, turned instead to Julian for answers.
But the truth was sadder still. Christina didnt worry for Pippashe trusted the doctors, knowing there was nothing more for her to do. She longed for her old life, free of the antiseptic scent of wards, no matter how luxurious the private clinic.
Her patience snapped when she learned Julian was selling their house.
Why, Julian? Youre not out of money, are you?
Yes. His answer was so calm and direct, she froze.
Buthow? You had
Had a fortune? Exactly. You stayed with me for comfort and money, didnt you? Well, its gone. Treatment for Pippa is expensive. She needs surgery, abroad. That means everything must gothe house, the business, anything. Ill do anything for our childs health.
And me? What about me? Christinas tears trickled down, as she already sensed his next words.
You? Julians voice was so weary, so direct, she felt a cold certainty. Youre free. You can live as you choose. Ill leave you a flat in London, a car, and enough funds. But I ask one thing: youll visit Pippa at hospital a couple of times a week. And when we fly for her operation, youll come. Good or bad, youre her mother, and she needs you. So show some heart, even if you have to fake it. For her.
Julian finally broke, sparing neither himself nor his wife. Terror twisted inside himreal terror, the kind that sideswipes you breathless at four in the morning. All he lived for now lay behind the door where they stoodhis whole life, curled around a battered teddy, a drip in her little arm. And the only thing now connecting him to Christina was that child.
Enough. Go and wash your face, and dont frighten Pippa. She must have peace. Youll have everything else you wantin exchange, youll do your bit. Understood? Get on with it, Christinadont make me ask twice.
Something in her husband shifted in that moment. What had always seemed faintly ridiculous about Julian now loomed formidable. She left, stunned, all hauteur gone, struggling to compose herself, missing as Julian slipped into Pippas wardand auburn curls stirred on the pillow.
Daddy
Margaret, quietly sitting nearby with a bedtime story, rose and beckoned Julian outside.
If you dont mind, Julian Could I stay?
Why ask permission? Youre family, Julian breathed, hugging his mother-in-law. Thank you. I honestly dont know how Id manage without you.
I feel so ashamed Its my faultI failed Christina She was such a sweet girl once, clever and gentle. How did I lose her? Margaret wept.
Heh, hindsights a beautiful thing. Im just as much to blame. Do you think she truly doesnt care for Pippa? You were a wonderful motherI can only hope I dont make the same mistakes. How can I protect my daughter?
Lay the groundwork, Julian, just lay the groundwork Margaret sniffed, fixing her hair. Anyway! We mustnt mope, or Pippa will be onto us. She cant have stress. Ill put her to bedpop to the shop for some ice cream, would you? She barely ate lunch. Oh, and Juliangive Christina time. Wait. I cant believe she Well, I dont want to believe it.
The surgery went ahead two months later. Janet left her teaching post and accompanied Julian and Pippa overseas, supporting them as steadfastly as she always had.
Half a year after, father and daughter returned home, with both grandmothers. Christina remained somewhere in Europe, living her free life.
Two years of rehabilitation followedhope waxed and waned, sometimes burning bright, sometimes barely flickering, but never extinguished, sustained until Pippas consultant finally removed his glasses, pinched his nose, and managed a smile:
You did it
Life once again drew a deep breath, lingered, and, unsteady, chose a new path forwards.
Christina reappeared when Pippa turned fifteen. Still beautiful, perfectly poised, she offered a polite kiss on Margarets cheek, a nod to Julianthen made straight for where a gaggle of Pippas classmates shouted birthday cheers.
Pippa
Those same blue eyes, cautious and sharp, peered back at Christina.
Mum
Christina rushed to explain, words tumbling out, but Pippa cut her off, controlled and calm.
No. It can wait. Nows not the time.
But, I wanted
I know. And it can wait.
Pippa, please
Fine. Come with me.
Pippa nodded at her guests and guided her mother to Julians study. There, she swept the curtain aside, curled up on the window seat, and shrugged.
Well, go on then.
My God, you look so much like your father
Yeah, what, Mum? Am I just as difficult as he was?
Thats not what I meant.
But I do. And let me tell you something. The man you always found wanting? The one you belittled, then abandonedhes never said one bad word about you, not once. He never brought another woman into our home, because he didnt want me upset. He never even divorced you. All these years, he just kept saying I had a mothereven if, really, I didnt. And you know what else?
Christina nearly whispered. What?
That so-called infuriating man taught me to forgive, not to carry anger around. Im not sure how good I am at itbut Im his daughter. I see things through. Im not sure I can do it with youI barely remember you, and I dont much care to. I dont need you. I have Dad, and my grandmothers. Everything a girl needs, theyve already taught me. Why spend time on you? But, for Dads sake, Ill give you a chance. Ill let you try and be my mum.
And what was I before?
Couldnt sayan ornament, a cover, a hollow doll, a monster Is that too harsh for you? Because I remember falling asleep in hospital to Grandma Margarets lullabies, holding not your hand, but Dads. I remember when they shaved my head, and Grandma Janet brought me a hideous pink hat and made me laugh. I went to school late, struggled, but my grandmothers taught me everything, because Dad worked so much. Grandma Margaret sewed me a tutu and bought a swans crown, though she knew Id never dance on stage. My first performance was for them, right here. That applause meant more than the Royal Ballet ever could. Grandma Janet brought paints, brushes, and we painted all night. Thats my painting there, I gave it to Dad for his birthdayit won first prize at the school show. You werent there for any of it
Im here now
Why? Why come back?
To be here
Why dont I believe you? Pippa traced patterns in the windows condensation. Outside, Julian stood in the garden, watching. Pippa waved at him before turning to Christina. You dont know? Neither do I. So I wont dwell on it. Prove youre worth my time. Then, maybemaybeIll think about forgiving. For now, youre a guest. Make yourself comfortable. Cake in an hour. I ought to go to my friends. Sorry.
She hopped off the window seat, straightened the curtains, then paused in the doorway.
What do you think, Mum? Am I a difficult person?
Christina stared at her in silence, barely daring to hope.
Good. Then Im definitely my fathers daughter. Thats the best compliment you could give me. Maybe now Im ready to reconsider. See you, Mum.
A flicker of auburn vanished behind the door. Christina went to the window, pressing her palm where Pippas print remained, as soft English sunlight crept through the glass.
