You understand, Ellie, that folk like you never get married, Arthur said calmly, there are women for love and a pleasant time, and there are those who keep themselves chaste until the wedding. Unfortunately, youre not one of them.
What is it about me thats unsuitable, Arthur? I cook well, I look splendid, the house is spotless. As a woman, am I not to your liking? Ellie stared at the man she had thought was her lover, bewildered.
Thats precisely the problem! Youre already spoiled. Understand: people like you arent taken as wives. Theyre only met for fleeting amusements, no strings attached. Marries are chosen from virgins, and youd be the first. They should be ready to wash a husbands feet and drink that water, as the proverb goes. Arthur, pleased with his final remark, turned to the wall and snored.
Just a week earlier Ellie had been at a café with her friends, spilling her plans: life was finally pulling itself together. Thirty, not a girl any more, but a career, a flat, a car, looking smashing. She could marry and have children! And there was a dreamlike candidate. Arthur: never married, lived alone, though the flat next door was bought with his mother. Fourteen years her senior, handsome, wellkept, almost without bad habits, holding a respectable post. Pure luck.
Theyd met at work hed walked into her dental surgery as a patient and walked out head over heels. Ellie was juggling two jobs then: a public clinic and a private practice, so personal time was scarce. And then flowers, not the usual roses but peonies, in February! A restaurant and everything spun.
Only one thing gnawed at her: two years into the relationship and no proposal. Friends nudged, Its time for Ellie to settle down. She felt it too. So she dared to bring it up. At bedtime she heard: she was spoiled, not for marriage.
It didnt fit. What did he think he could do? The next evening Ellie met the girls again at the café, seeking counsel.
Imagine, girls, Ellie began, he told me Im no longer his type! That people like me never get married!
Are you serious? Catherine gasped. Youre beautiful, clever, independent!
He says he only marries virgins. He calls me thirdrate, defective. And what am I to do now? Hes perfect otherwise: smart, has money, the bedrooms fine.
Ellie, drop him before he shatters your selfesteem, Lydia snorted.
Even better Catherine added bring him over to our place! Mick and I are celebrating ten years of marriage. Let him see what a family looks like.
They agreed to invite him. Arthur, who usually shunned such gatherings, suddenly consented and even drove himself. Ellie imagined a pleasant retreat with the girls finally she wouldnt have to steer the car back.
At Mick and Catherines cosy cottage in the Cotswolds everything felt homely: children playing, barbecues, birds chattering, and Skipper the spaniel bolting about as if powered by an invisible battery. The feast stretched from noon to evening. The grownups drifted away, the youngsters fell asleep. At the table remained the inner circle the friends, the hosts, and Arthur.
They sipped tea with berry tarts and talked. Then Arthur launched another monologue:
Tell me, Catherine, why is Ellie still single? Youve been married ten years.
Not everyone gets lucky in love on their third year, like me, Catherine shrugged. Ellie was studying and working, had no time.
And did you marry while still a virgin?
Are you kidding? Catherine laughed. Mick and I have been together since our first year at university!
But he was the first?
Want to see my passport? Mick snapped. My wife is me, period.
See? She was pure. Thats respect. Marrying a woman whos had a few before you is a disgrace to the family!
What sort of noble lineage demands you be without a past? Lydia chuckled. So why give Ellie any hope?
I promised nothing to anyone, Arthur shrugged. Your friend should understand shes a secondrate woman. Marrying her would need serious reasons, which I see none of.
So Im basically thirdrate, divorced, with a child, Lydia smiled. Poor you, sir. You and your pedigree.
How do you speak of women in my house? Mick roared. Sorts for him! Youre an overripe herring! He seized Arthur and hauled him outside. It was easy two metres tall, solid as a rock.
Away with you! I wont let you spoil the celebration. If it werent for the girls, Id have smashed you already. Youre not welcome.
Ellie dear, Im leaving. Are you coming or staying? Arthur announced proudly, snatching his bag.
Ellie, laughing till tears fell, could not answer. Arthur, not waiting for her reply, slammed the gate and drove off.
Well, Mick, thanks, Ellie giggled. Thats it! No more men, not even an overripe one!
It was a bad idea to enlighten him about marriage, Catherine smiled. What a character! Girls, did you hear? Im firstrate! And you? Look how it turned out.
Jokes lasted the whole evening. Later Lydia drove Ellie home. Life slipped back into the usual rhythm of patient appointments and filling out medical histories. Arthur never called again.
Ellie, dear, theres an envelope on the reception desk, said Lena.
Thanks, love, Ill look at it later, Ellie replied.
When she finished her shift, Ellie opened the envelope. Inside was
