Changed His Mind About Getting Married
Arthur spent long hours in his lab, endlessly transferring liquids between vials, poring over powders.
Hes convinced that his painstaking research will soon yield something truly valuablea unique compound extracted from the roots of a rare English plant.
The enthusiasm with which this forty-year-old scientist works means hes barely noticed the admiring looks from young Sophie, the new cleaner hired at the institute.
Fuelled by his hopes for a breakthrough, Arthur fails to see that Sophie spends hours just standing in his office, leaning absentmindedly on her mop, gazing at his back as he toils.
One evening, the usually timid Sophie gathers her courage and blurts out,
Dr. Bennett, youve been sitting here all daywont you join me for a cuppa? I happened to bring my travel kettle and, by chance, some homemade sausage rolls my mum packed.
The mention of sausage rolls finally catches his attention. Arthur sets his experiment aside and stands up.
Tea sounds wonderful. Sausage rolls, you say? Far be it from me to decline such a treat.
Sophie hurriedly rummages through her rucksack: first comes the kettle, then a plastic tub with the food.
Mum sent me some mince yesterday from the countryso I whipped up these sausage rolls and baked them.
Bright-eyed, she puts the container on the desk.
Arthur, almost absently, pulls out his reading glasses, which hed only just put away. He peers at the container as the kettle rumbles.
Just out of curiosity, Sophie, how long has that tub been in your bag?
Sophie looks sheepish. Well since this morning, I suppose. Why?
And has the lid been as tightly closed as it is now?
She bites her lip, slightly panicked. Er, yes. I think so. Do you reckon its gone off already? Dont think it could havelocker room was cold. They havent put the heating on yet.
Arthur weighs up the risk.
In that case, lets stick to tea tonight. You better take these home, just to be on the safe side.
Flushed with indignationafter a whole evening spent bakingSophie snatches the tub away.
He can see from her furrowed brows what she intends to do.
No, pleasedont open it! he cries, waving his arms and retreating, pressing a hanky to his nose.
But Sophie pops the lid open, sniffs, and shrugs.
Smells fine. Honestly, you city types are soft as anything! If you dont want any, Ill eat alone.
With a thump, she puts the container on the desk and begins to pour out the tea.
Arthur edges closer, watching her eat. The hot brew soothes his nerves, even lightens his mood. He eyes the food.
Beef? he asks.
Mm-hmm, she nods, not pausing in her chewing.
Looks delicious. And actually smells rather good Arthur admits, his mouth watering. Sometimes, instincts trump caution.
He sighs dolefully:
Technically, locker room temperature shouldnt go above twenty-two degrees, so in theory, bacteria shouldnt
Sophie cuts him off mid-sentence.
He notices a bead of golden fat running down her chin, and another on her nose.
His thoughts swirl:
Smells amazing. Probably tastes even better Oh, why did I say anything?
Dont be silly, Arthur. You know how dodgy unrefrigerated food can be. And from the looks of her, shes not the brightestlikely never heard of proper storage!
Despite his mental caution, his belly rumbles treacherously.
And thensomething happens. He loses his willpower; his hand moves of its own accord. He bites into a roll; the pastry gives way, rich and savoury.
Mmm, fantastic. Who made these?
As I saidme, Sophie blushes.
Arthur eats greedily, eyes closed in bliss.
Speechless, he manages.
Delighted, Sophie wipes her mouth on her apron, and dabs at a tear.
Theresee? I told you! Everyone thinks Im daft, but Ive been baking since I was little.
***
Grateful for the meal, Arthur insists on escorting Sophie to the bus stop.
They get talking as they wait, shivering in the coldSophie reveals shes just turned twenty-three.
So young. He thinks shes young enough to be his daughter. They wait a good ten minutes; the bus doesnt appear.
I could bring you homemade biscuits tomorrow, she offers shyly. Proper ones, not shop-bought! Do you like carrot or perhaps ones made with cottage cheese?
I like both!
Then Ill bring both.
Unbelievably, Arthur finds himself looking forward to tomorrow, even forgetting about his equations and chemical samples. That night, he dreams of Sophieher blouse slipping from her shouldera vision that leaves him blushing when he wakes.
Honestly. Forty years Ive kept to myself, now look at me he mutters, bewildered by his own feelings.
Part Two
Arthur is, predictably, nervous before meeting Sophies family. As the taxi jolts through the countryside, he removes his cap and triesfutilelyto arrange his thinning hair, covering his bald spot as best he can.
Only yesterday, Sophie had made him rest his head on her lap as she used tweezers to pluck out every last grey hair.
Arthur shaves extra closely, dons his suit and tie, and douses himself in aftershave.
Sophie nuzzles against him, cat-like.
Theyll like you, she tries to reassure him. Mums all right, and my stepdad agrees with anything she says.
How olds your mother? Arthur asks anxiously.
Forty-five.
And Im forty. Not a huge gap, you think shell approve?
Silly, as if she has a choice. And if she objects, Ill claim Im pregnant!
Id rather not start off on such dramatic notes, says Arthur, alarmed.
They finally arrive. As Arthur steps out, a wild wind nearly whips away his cap.
Its wintersnow banks taller than hes ever seen in his town.
While Arthur hesitates, Sophie pays the driver, then nimbly grabs both her own and Arthurs bags and heads up the path.
Hes only ever seen houses like this in books: old, weather-beaten, the roof caving and pipes held upright by an upturned cast-iron pot.
Inside, the heavy door is draped in patchwork blankets. The floorboards creak under homemade rugs; the crumbling walls are caked in whitewash.
My word, Arthur thinks, stunned by the humble setting. How can anyone live here?
Still convinced it must be a shed or hunting hut, hes led to a tiny sitting room.
In the middle stands a woman in a faded housecoat.
Mum, this is Arthurmy fiancé, remember? I told you about him.
The womans frosty gaze sweeps over him.
Hello, she grunts, her tone icy.
You must be joking, girl. How old are you, Arthur?
He fumbles through, ArthurArthur Bennett, I work with your daughter at the research institute
I asked how old you are! she interrupts thunderously.
Im forty.
And my Sophies twenty-three! Youre almost old enough to be her father!
Flustered, Arthur babbles,
I know Im older, but I love your daughter. Id never hurt herIve a good job, a flat in London, and a cottage outside town
And I suppose you dont even have a car?
No, my eyesights not up to drivingbut I can buy one, and I could teach Sophie if its that important
Dont make me laugh! Want to turn my foolish girl into your housemaid, have you? This isnt Dickensian England, you know!
How can you say such things! Arthur protests. I want to marry your Sophie, and have our wedding in church, start a family I promise you, my intentions are honest.
From behind the stove emerges a beaming man in his thirties.
Evening. Nice to finally meet youIve heard all about you, he says, friendly as could be. This is Sophies stepdadtanned, lean, striking, with an open shirt showing off his chest, and wild dark curls.
Andrew, you neednt fawn over him! snaps her mother. Theres not a chance Im letting you marry my daughter, old man!
Sophie gasps.
Mum, how can you! You cant treat guests like thisIm leaving with him.
I wont allow it!
As the row erupts, Arthur simply cant cope. He gently untangles Sophies grip on his hand, and tries to back out.
Sophie, forgive me. I cant go against your mothers wishes. Lets say goodbye.
She can shamelessly bring home a lover half her agethen kick me out for being in the way?! Sophie shouts.
Dont talk to your mum like that! Andrew yells.
Mind your mouth! her mother shrieks.
Chaos explodes. Arthur, head down and shoulders hunched, heads for the doordodging a flying stool.
Dear God, what have I let myself in for? he thinks, sprinting from the inhospitable house.
He spends half an hour staggering around the village, half hoping for a taxi, or even a remote train station.
The stress weighs heavily; his heart pounds.
Why on earth did I agree to all this? I could be in my nice warm lab Now look at me! He pulls out his mobile, only to discover theres no signal here.
Exhausted, he sheepishly returns to the cottage, recognising it by the battered flowerpot on the chimney.
Its quiet now. No screams, no bickering.
Sophie comes out onto the porch, suitcases in hand.
Arthur, are you there? I was so afraid youd run off!
Just needed a bit of air, he says, not entirely truthfully.
If Mum wont bless our marriage, Im leaving, says Sophie, resolute.
Arthur stays silent. His thin town shoes are no match for the deep snow; his toes are numb. Hes almost dancing from the cold, his fingers frozen. Love is the last thing on his mind.
Did he really want all this drama and troublesome in-laws?
Sophies mother soon appears, swathed in a fur-trimmed coat and boots, holding her ground like an English lady of old.
If you have no respect, girl, I wash my hands of you, she proclaims. From now on, hes responsible.
Sophie nods firmly, Better with him than you, mum! Arthurs a good man. Just call us a taxi, please.
No chance. Youve made your bed, now lie in it. Dont come running to me.
Sophie meekly nudges Arthur: Come on, darling, do something.
But Arthur is half-frozen, joints creaking, and musters his last energy.
Theres no reception; Im no wizard. See if one of the neighbours will call a cab for us, will you?
Suddenly dizzy with cold and nerves, Arthur collapses.
Whats happening?! Sophie wails, panicking even more. He barely manages, Bit of a head rushnever thought Id meet my end here. I just want to go home
No! Sophie cries, her voice cracking.
***
Arthur is barely conscious when a village nurse appears and gives him an injection. Slowly, he returns to his sensesthe lumpy ceiling, lime-washed walls, creaky settee.
Dont try to get up, warns the nurse, Rest for half an hour at least.
Whats wrong with me? Arthur groans.
Blood pressures through the roof. You need to relaxthe stress isnt helping.
I was never stressed until today
Images of his future mother-in-laws scowl haunt him.
A sickly old man! she sneers, in his minds eye.
Mum, please leave him alone! Sophie argues.
She feeds Arthur some hot tea with a spoon.
The nurse goes to the door, and Arthur asks,
Excuse mecould you take me with you?
Where to?
Youre with the ambulance, arent you?
No, I live hereIm the village nurse.
Sophie sets down the cup and gazes at him. Youre not leaving, are you? No need; Mums come round. Shes forgiven us.
Arthur, inwardly recoiling from the family, wont meet Sophies eyes.
Fine, but if I get out of here alive, Im gone. Never again will I get so much as a foot near another woman, he thinks bitterly.
***
Later, at the end of his workday, Arthur stands up from his desk and tells his assistant,
Thats me done. Youre wrapping up tooI told you half an hour ago. Im locking up.
The assistant, a reserved woman of thirty-two, blushes and fiddles with her glasses.
I brought a cake Shall we have some tea?
No! Arthur blurts. Work is for working, not tea parties!
But its long past working hours, she says with a shy smile.
Please just go home, he insists.
She gathers her things and glides out, muttering,
Lunatic.
Arthur exhales deeply, locks up, and hurries home.
He arrives at eight on the dot. Sophie opens the door as soon as she hears the key.
Evening, Dr. Bennett.
Whats for dinner? he asks, without so much as a glance.
Duck stew and potato dumplings.
Perfect. Im starving. Just note in your little book how much I owe you for the food. Ill add it to your pay at months end.
Arthur leaves his shoes and coat, washes up, and heads into the kitchen, where dinner waits.
Sophie hovers.
Arthur, are you still angry with my mum? Shes apologised, hasnt she? She was just worrieda wealthy, respected scientist like you, almost a professorshe thought youd never marry me! She was just trying to be clever, play hard to get. Shes not right in the head sometimes, you know! But I still love you.
Arthur stirs his soup, but cant enjoy the food.
Is it because of our family fight? Thats just us. Weve had rows and made up hundreds of times Maybe we were out of line, but so what?
He stands up, gently but firmly takes Sophie by the shoulders, and ushers her outfirst to the hall, then out the door, handing her all her things.
Its late. Off you go. No need to come tomorrowIll have dumplings for supper. Maybe the day after.
He closes the door on her tear-stained face, returns to his kitchen, and tucks into his dinner.
