My friends son is an extraordinary young man. He did well at school, graduated with honours, found a job, and worked diligently. Now hes a prosperous business ownerhe has a cottage in the Cotswolds and a stylish flat in central Londonhonestly, hes a marvel, not your run-of-the-mill chap.
Buttheres always a but, isnt there?he married a girl. An awful girl, from a troubled family, bitter, jealous, and mean. This isnt something my friend, who handed over her only son, says out of spite; its simple truth.
First, this harpy drove off all her husbands friends. Why bother with them? she would sneer. They only come round to drink and pinch your poundsdont you see theyre having you on?
She didnt stop there. Next, she systematically cut him off from his family. His relatives are a big, close-knit lot: they love celebrating together, ringing each other for a natteran unbreakable family, or so one would hope.
Whenever his relatives extended any invitation, shed roll her eyes, Oh, I absolutely cant. Something terribly important. And whenever guests were meant to visit, out came a sudden migraine.
Before long, only his mother would occasionally visit, desperate to see her granddaughter and, naturally, pining for her son.
Every single time, the wife would manufacture a dramatic scene.
Yet she was never dramatic in the classic senseno screaming or wailing, but sharp as a whip: Ive told you five hundred times, but you never learn, do you? Dont bring us cheap gifts. We only have quality, and you arrive with tat.
Hed stand beside her, shaking his head, sighing softly: Mum, for heavens sake…
Yesterday, I ran into his mother and another friend of ours. The mother was in floods of tears, her hands shaking as she showed us a text. Her daughter-in-law had written to say that she and the son thought it best if visits came to an end.
Crying, she said: My son rang me and said, Mum, you upset my wife. After you come round, she cant collect herself for days.
But thats not the real point. We all sat there, wringing hands, poor woman! What rotten luck, what a wretched daughter-in-law.
Thats when our other friend said, But whats she got to do with it? You raised your son to be callous and unkind.
I couldnt help but bark back, You dont understand! What can he do if shes like that? Hes just keeping the peace, doing it for the familys sake. If only youd seen what a lovely boy he waswhy, in Year Six, he made his mum a card for Mothers Day!
She wanted to show us the cardtheres a heart and a daffodil he drew himself. If not for the wife…
But our friend only shrugged, saying, If a man isnt rotten to the core, no wife can make him so. And off she went.
Suddenly, it felt as if a shroud had lifted from before my eyes.
All my life, Id believedgood men marry bad women and suffer for it.
But now, well, here we are.
Turns out, a person is mean-spirited because he is, not because some wicked wife forced him.
