Although Clara was a marvellous daughter-in-law and wife, she managed to unravel not only her own marriage, but herself as well.
Clara had grown up an orphan, raised within the hallowed, echoing halls of a childrens home just outside Bath. At the tender age of eighteen, she entered into marriage, having not the faintest clue as to what being a wife meant. Family life was a mysterynone of her few acquaintances had even thought of marriage. Once she crossed the threshold of her husbands terraced house in Leeds, she hungrily absorbed any scrap of information on how to become the perfect English wife. Her main source was, of course, her mother-in-lawa woman of formidable opinions and sternly set hair.
Everyone hears tales about the villainy of mothers-in-law over cups of tea and rain-splattered windows, but Clara, never having had a mother of her own, believed that her husbands mother would love her as a daughter and wish her well. In truth, the old woman bore her no malice, but things have a way of curdling in the fog. The mother-in-law, with particular gusto, devoted herself to teaching Clara the proper order of family life: If a man strays, its always the wifes fault, my dear.
Why, Clara pondered, shouldnt blame rest with the one who chose to stray? But there it was; in this peculiar domestic kingdom, responsibility fell on the womans slender shouldersperhaps shed neglected her looks and lost her husbands interest. Her mother-in-laws advice was to keep a waist as slim as a willow switch even into old age, so Clara wrote in her pale blue notebook scrawled dont gain weight and signed herself up at the local gym.
Clara was already trim, but the looming threat of English puddings and Victoria sponges made her afraid to eat. When shed mastered that lesson, another dropped like drizzle: In a proper English family, both contribute.
Clara never arguedshe longed for purpose of her own. She set out on the hunt for any sort of job. When she asked what one should do during maternity leave, her mother-in-law sniffed and replied, Maternitys your own puzzle; youll have to sort it yourself!
Clara didnt write that wisdom down, but years later, when leave arrived alongside her first child, she also took up babysitting part-time for the neighbours. She was privately pleased, though her mother-in-law and husband muttered that her contributionjust a few British pounds a weekwas hardly worth mentioning.
Clara decided it wouldnt hurt to splash out for a visit to the hairdresser, but then came another axiom: Theres no point dressing up while youre on maternity! Do your hair and face once youre back at work. For now, you must save!
So Clara dutifully handed over every penny she earned to her husband. Throughout her years of marriage, the refrain of her mother-in-law echoed: A good wife keeps house unaided!
And so she didnever asking for help, running on nothing but strong tea, frayed nerves, and exhaustion. Fainting fits became as ordinary as the grey weather. Often, once her youngest was asleep at nine oclock, she would drag herself into the dark kitchen to tidy and prepare every meal for the following day, while her husband, by that point, had enjoyed his tenth napafter all, earning money was so draining.
Inevitably, Clara found herself in hospitalone of those strange hospital stays where days swim together, and no one comes. Shed brushed aside every ache and ignored the first gentle warnings of true illness. A whole fortnight passed; neither husband nor mother-in-law arrived with so much as a peeled grape. Luckily, Clara had her mobile on the bedside table and phoned her friend, who brought everything from clean socks to a comforting pork pie.
It was in that fevered, linoleum-lit twilight she finally decided. The day she was discharged, Clara filed for divorceher life unraveling like fog rolling out to sea.
