A Scandal in a Proper Family
“This is the end!” Lydia took a crisp white handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, letting out such a heart-wrenching sigh that her husband, Edward, sat up anxiously.
“Liddy, what is it now? Is it your drops?”
“Oh, do stop fussing about your precious drops, Eddie! Are you really so obtuse? Its disgraceful! An utter scandal! The whole family name ruined! And just look at her. Not an ounce of shame!”
Their only daughter, inherited from a long line of Ashfords, certainly did not look like a penitent sinner. No dramatic hand-wringing, no tears, no head bowed in disgrace. Not a bit of it.
Elizabeth Ashford was eating cherries. Her long, dancers legsjust like her grandmothers, as her mother often lamented, the former principal ballerina at the Royal Opera Housewere flung along the old iron veranda rail. Elizabeth plucked each cherry from a large decorated bowl, popped it in her mouth, and lazily flicked each stone into the rose bushes, much to her mother’s despair.
“Elizabeth! Stop that this instant! How dare you? This is a serious family matter. And youre youre”
Lydia flapped her hands in outrage before sweeping off, at last, to fetch her smelling salts.
“Lizzie, darling, youre not joking, are you?” Edward looked at his daughter, hope flickering in his eyes as he prepared to follow his wife.
“No, Dad, Im not. And do tell Mum once and for allher attempts to carry on this farce of a match are completely futile. I will not marry Matthew. Not ever. She may as well give up.”
“You’ll break her heart!”
“Oh, dont be so melodramatic, Dad!”
“Couldnt you reconsider, perhaps?”
“Not a chance. Ive already told Matthew. We spoke today and laid it to rest. If you missed it the first time, let me repeat: no. There will be no wedding.”
“Oh, woe is me” came a fresh outcry from the lounge, sending Edward dashing off to help Lydia, while Lizzie, undisturbed, picked another cherry from the bowl.
“Heavens, what on earth will I tell everybody? The dining hall is booked, invitations are already sent!”
“Mum, I never asked you to send them,” Lizzie called out in her usual calm tone. “You made a decision, now you can deal with it!”
“Thats cruel, darling! I was only trying to do whats best!”
“And as usual, its gone all wrong. My life, my choices, my plans, Mum. Youll just have to accept that,” Lizzie stretched and grinned. “Tough luck, isnt it?”
“Elizabeth!” Lydia choked and began sobbing again. “How could you?”
“Frankly, I havent done anything remarkable,” Lizzie said, collecting the untouched teacups from the table and brushing her hand dismissively at her mother. “I know everything you’re about to say. I am quite capable of washing three cups andjust you watchnot breaking any!”
As Lizzie disappeared into the kitchen, Lydia tossed her handkerchief aside.
“Shes the spitting image of your mother,” she declared to her husband. “Even her mannerisms! What have I ever done to deserve this?”
Edwards mother, the legendary Regina, was a force to be reckoned with in the early days of Lydias marriage. Lydia, already a mature and independent woman when she married, believed her experience deserved respect, but Regina hadnt the faintest idea what was expected of her as a mother-in-law and certainly saw no need to change her ways just because Lydia had joined the family.
“Lydia, dear, what is that scent?” Regina would whisper conspiratorially as Lydia entered the room, discretely covering her nose.
“Its my new perfume,” Lydia would raise an eyebrow, “Dont you like it?”
“Its not dreadful, per se, dear. But really, you neednt use half the bottle at once. A dab on the wrist would do!”
Lydia, who had a dreadful habit of over-applying scent, would purse her lips in indignation and sulk.
“What have I ever done to offend her?” she would wail to Edward. “Why is she this way?”
“Mum is the same with everyone, Lydia love,” Edward would reassure her. “Its just her style.”
“Well, shed better change it, or heaven knows what Ill do. And stop calling me love! I cant stand it!”
Of course, Regina was not about to change a thing. Her sharp, sometimes biting comments would set Lydias nerves on edge time and again, leading to spats and a chill in Edwards interactions with his mother. This continued until one evening at the theatre, when Lydia received a backhanded compliment:
“Lydia, youre the picture of a true lady now! It must be all that time with Regina. What taste! Such incomparable style. Shes lucky to have such a charming duplicate!”
Lydia disliked the comparison to her mother-in-law, but she was rather taken with the compliment. After all, Regina was undeniably a style icon, and Lydia, always clever, began to warm to the womanat least enough to hold her tongue.
After Elizabeth was born, Lydia all but forgot her old grievances. Regina adored her granddaughter and relished every moment together.
In this distinguished family of artistsexcept for Lydia, a dentistpeace and quiet had finally reigned. Lissie grew up cherished, the apple of her grandmother and her fathers eye, while her mother, though strict, desperately wanted her daughter to have a life better than her own.
Lydia herself never spoke of her own childhood, not even to her husband. He knew just broad strokes, but never pressed for details. Edward was wise enough to notice Lydia didnt want to talk, so hed left the past well alone, for which she was deeply grateful. Lydia had severed all ties with her past to focus on the present.
With her own mother, Lydia had no contactreasons deep and painful, never spoken aloud. Around her neck she wore a locket containing the photo of a smiling, curlyhaired boy. She never opened it. She couldn’t. She remembered perfectly that her son was only two when his grandma, trusted to watch him, left him alone briefly while she ran out for some milk. It was a scorching summer, windows wide open, the cot drawn close for a cooler breeze.
Losing her son nearly destroyed Lydia. She couldnt eat, sleep, or think. She cursed herself for not having taken a year out from her studies to care for him. On that fateful day, she was taking an exam. When she returned, her life was simply over before it ever truly began.
Her husband, away on expedition and unable even to say goodbye to his son, was divorced soon after. Theyd only been married three years, and Lydia quickly realised even the birth of a child could not glue their brittle connection together. The divorce had been inevitable.
With the paperwork finished, Lydia packed her bag and left her childhood city for good. From the moment she learned she was no longer a mother, she felt aged beyond her years, as if every pain a person could bear had already passed through her, reducing her soul to dust and ashes.
Or so she thought.
Then Edward entered her life.
He first came to her surgery, clutching his swollen cheek.
“How longs this been going on?” she asked briskly.
“A good week, now.”
“Youre far too old to be such a baby,” Lydia snapped. “Surely you know better!”
“Not really,” Edward managed a smile despite the pain.
And there was something in that smile that made Lydia fall silent, flustered enough to mix up her tools, which never happened. Realising, she blushed so deep that Edward looked away just to shield her further embarrassment.
She worked quietly, focusing only on his treatment, but for the first time since losing her little boy, her hands moved with a certain carealmost, but not quite, gentle.
For over a year, Edward would meet her from work and walk her home. They rarely spoke, but still understood each other perfectly. When Edward proposed, Lydia hesitated.
“Im happy with you but I dont know if I can make you happy.”
“Why ever not?”
“I dont want children.”
“Why?”
“Ill tell you. But only in brief,” Lydia said gravely. “And then you must think. If you dont see me tomorrow, Ill understand. But do yourself a favourask your mothers advice, if you love her as much as it seems.”
Edward never did seek his mothers counselhe was a grown man, and Regina was hardly the sort to involve herself in her sons private affairs. She only made an exception with Lydia, and then much later. Regina even joked that after retiring, she became near intolerable, just like in those classic anecdotes. Like many ballet retirees, shed left the stage young and had been both married and divorced twice by the time Edward told her he was engaged.
Still, Edward told his mother everything about Lydia. Regina, smoking elegantly and ashing into her finest porcelain, listened in silence, growing gloomier by the minute. Finally, setting aside her cup, she asked,
“Do you love her?”
“I do.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Love is a treasure given to few. However high the price, it will always be worth it. And know this: a true treasure is never weightless. Sometimes it feels too heavy to bear, but trust me, you will find the strength, if you truly value what you have.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
And so the matter was decided. Edward introduced Lydia to Regina, who welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek and promptly whisked her away to her dressmaker. Afterwards, she took an old wooden jewellery box out of the Ashford family bureau.
“Here, Lydia, the Ashford family jewels.”
“Really, I couldnt possibly!”
“Oh, you will. You’re one of us now. Youll wear these, or youll upset me. Choose as you like. But know, these arent trinketstheyre to be worn wisely.”
“Meaning?”
“My grandmother always said, wearing diamonds to the village market is terribly bad formunless youre in Brighton, of course. There, its allowed, just to make the fishmongers faint with envy and knock a few quid off your bill.”
To her own surprise, Lydia found herself laughing again, after so long believing shed forgotten how.
Regina taught her with wit and sharpness, and while Lydia fumed, deep down she was grateful. When Lydia found herself pregnant, it was Regina who she confided in first.
“You look a bit peaky, Lydia. Whats up?” Regina, home from some Mediterranean adventure with her latest companion, stopped by to check on her son.
Edward was out, and Reginas barrage of questions finally sent Lydia running to the bathroom, long enough for Regina to put two and two together.
“Youll have the baby with Dr. Sophie. Shes the best, absolutely. I trust her with my life,” Regina declared, immediately taking charge. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Im not sure if I can do this”
“Lydia, Im rarely blunt with you, but here goes. Dont be a fool! Give thanks for this chancehowever you see fitand then get on with things. And remember, I wont take my eyes off you or your baby! Ill help as long as I can. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes thank you”
“Save your thanks for later. When I become a dreadful old woman and moan your ears off, remember this conversation and say thank you again. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Elizabeth Ashford arrived on schedule, as healthy and as loud as you like. Regina took one look at her in her lacy shawl and hooted with praise.
“A masterpiece! Well done, Lydia!”
Regina kept her word, becoming Lydias greatest help. The same Regina who was known as a society queen and ballet diva wouldn’t hesitate to dump her furs in the hall, roll up her sleeves, and scrub nappies with old-fashioned soap, just as her grandma had. Then shed bath Lizzie, peck her toes, and dote over her as any grandmother would.
All arguments faded away.
At last, Lydia found what shed been wishing for all those yearsa family, a home, and a little peace.
Of course, Lydia never forgot her first child. Twice a year Edward would take her up to visit her hometown, though they never stayed in the city itself, nor did Lydia see her mother. They’d stay at a little B&B in the suburbs, and Lydia always counted down the minutes until they could leave.
Years went by like this until, on Lizzies tenth birthday, Lydia received a letter from her own mother.
Only Regina knew what that short letter said. Lydia showed it to her for advice.
“Go. You wont forget; youll struggle to forgive, perhaps. But shes still your mother. Try to remember the good times, before. Talk to the mum you knew when you were a little girl like Lizzie. Think about this: were not angels, any of us. Anyone can make mistakeseven terrible, irrevocable ones. You, me Its complicated, Lydia. I wont ask you to be a saint or forgive her in an instant. If you dont find it within yourself, fine. But Im certain the conversation is for you, not her. Otherwise, youll spend your life haunted by it, and Lizzie will suffer the most. Im thinking of you and my grandchild, not your mother. Remember, whatever you choose, Ill stand by you. Just think about it.”
The next day Lydia said goodbye to her husband, left Lizzie with Regina, and traveled back to her birthplace.
The meeting with her mother was brief. She was only conscious for a minute, just enough to squeeze her daughter’s hand and whisper, “Forgive me.”
Lydia came home after a few days. Regina, handing over Lizzie, nodded approvingly.
“You did right, Lydia. Well done.”
Peace finally seemed within reacheveryone together, everything in its place. Yet Lydia remained restless, burdened by the old anxieties Regina had warned her about. A sticky, suffocating sense of dread, hard to explain, cast a shadow over her thoughts.
“You’re over-protecting Lizzie, Liddy. Shes not a little girl anymoreshe needs friends, her own interests. Mum, Dad, Grandmathats lovely, but only for so long,” Edward said gently.
“I dont know what you expect of me.”
“I want you to stop managing every step your daughter takes. Lizzie needs some freedom.”
“Oh, does she now?” Lydia bristled like a cornered cat. “And you tell me this? Dont you care what happens to your own child?!”
“Of course I do! Lydia, please!”
“I only see whats in front of me, Eddie! Shes a girlanything could happen! I couldnt cope with another loss, do you understand?”
“Why do we have to lose her at all?” Edward exclaimed.
“Because anythings possible at any moment. Then what? Do we destroy ourselves with guilt? Does that help? Think!”
Edward was helpless. He adored his wife, but Lydias fears smothered not just herself, but the family around her. Even he couldn’t find a solution.
Once more, Regina stepped in.
“Put Lizzie into dance lessons.”
“What for, Mum? Her calendar is already overflowing with clubs and tutors.”
“Scrap all of that. She needs dancing. Partnered dancing.”
“Is it so important?”
“Yes!”
“Alright. Ill look into it.”
And so Lizzie began ballroom lessonsand met Matthew.
A rather chubby, awkward boy brought in by his grandmother, he was paired with the new girl, Lizzie. “Let them practise, theyre both late bloomers,” the coaches shrugged, not yet understanding that Lizzie wasnt the sort to lurk in the corner.
Three years on, Lizzie and Matthew won their first trophy, and a couple of years after that, they became regulars on the tournament circuit.
Matthew had grown taller and handsome, and judges alike started whispering about romance between the gold-star pair. Lizzie only smiled, never confirming nor denying, all while ignorant of her mother’s secret plans for her future.
Lizzie discovered those plans right after her last school exam.
“Ive made up my mind. Im going to study medicine,” she announced, after months of weighing up every option.
“Darling, we thought you had other ambitions.” Lydias smile was so tight that Lizzie shuddered.
“What ambitions? I never said anything.”
“Youve always been the silent type. But I’ve spoken with Matthew and his parents.”
“And?”
“We have three months to prepare. A wedding in autumn will be so beautiful! Ill speak to Gran, and well find a lovely venueshe knows all the right people.”
“A wedding?” Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Whos getting marriedMatthew?”
“Oh sweetheart! Of course! Youll be the perfect pair both on the dance floor and in life! Isnt this wonderful?”
“And did you think to ask me?” Lizzie said coldly.
“I thought it was settled, darling.”
“Do not call me darling.” Lizzies tone was glacial.
She grabbed her bag and stormed out without another word. That evening, Lydia found out Lizzie had decided to stay with her grandmother for a while.
Regina was blunt.
“What did you expect? Lizzies not a doll. You cant just dress her up and shove her down the aisle. Liddy, Ive always known you were clever, but I hardly recognise you now.”
“No need to. Shes my child! I only want her happy! Matthew loves her!”
“But does she love him?” Regina smirked. “Or does her opinion not matter?”
“I know best what she needs! She has no idea what she wants yet!”
“Oh, but she does. Lizzie wants to be a surgeon. Thats a worthy dream if you ask me. Whats the problem?”
“Everything! Let her study by all means, but firstlet her marry! Thatll set my mind at rest.”
“How will that help you rest?”
“You can’t see it? Shell have a husband, protector, support. Matthews a fine young man. Ever since they started dancing together, I relax at night knowing hell look after her.”
“I understand your worry, but I do not understand this urge to lock her in a gilded cage. Because thats what it would bea cage. Maybe a pretty one, but still a cage Its not her choice, but yours, and you know it.”
“This is pointless. The wedding will happen, end of discussion.”
“Well see,” Regina chuckled. “You really dont know your daughter.”
And Lizzie proved it. After that fateful conversation, she firmly decided it was time for change. She moved in with her grandmother, deeply wounding Lydia, who refused to answer calls, never visited, and learned of Lizzies brilliant exam results only from Edward.
“Liddy, isnt it time you cooled down? Is it really better to sob into Lizzies pillow than hold your living daughter? What are you waiting for? Why suffer? Shouldnt you try to patch things up? I was round there yesterday. Lizzie asked after you. Shes worried, too.”
“Oh, spare me! As if she really cares what happens to me now!”
“Lydia!” For the first time ever, Edward raised his voice. “This is madness! Shes your own flesh and blood! You longed for her, dreamed of herwhats changed that you now shove away the very person you live for? Do you think I dont see your pain? Then for goodness’ sake, explain it to me!”
“I cant explain! I dont know what to do, Eddie! Everything is a mess and I have no idea how to make it right. Youre rightI can barely breathe without her. It hurts so much, its like theres nothing but darkness around me. I cant see the light. Just like when I lost my boy”
“Lydia, thats enough!” Edward gripped her shoulders and gave her a good shake. “Lizzie is alive. Shes waiting for you. Get your coat!”
“Whatwhere?”
“Im taking you to her. And please get it through your headyou cant control the whole world. Stop holding your daughter so tight youre strangling the real life out of her!”
Whether it was Edwards anger, or finally hearing the right words, Lydia did as he asked.
A reconciliation was reached. What was said in Reginas room by Lydia and Lizzie, no one ever knewby morning, both had swollen, red-rimmed eyes and glowing cheeks, but were quietly content.
But Fate, ever the mischief-maker, decided ordinary peace in the upright Ashford family wasnt enough. Watching Lizzie march steadfastly toward her dream, Fate threw in a final twist that even left Regina shaking her head with disbelief.
“Dr Elizabeth Ashford, theres an acute appendicitis come in.”
“Right. Oh, not right at all, of course. Ill be there!”
Lizzie finished her coffee, stretched, and marched into A&E. Her shift was nearly over, but she wouldnt miss the experience for anything.
“You?”
“Me,” Matthew tried to smile, but grimaced with pain.
“Well now. Will you trust me with this?”
“With you? Yes!”
“Really? No last-minute cold feet, no dramatic farewell?”
“Lizzie, youre a rare one.”
“You have no idea”
Three years later, Lizzie swung open the Ashford garden gate, setting her little boy down on the stone path.
“Come on, show Grandma how fast you can run! Mum, catch him!”
Little Patrick squealed with delight, stumbling into his grandmothers arms.
“My golden boy! Oh, how Ive missed you!”
“Mum, hello! Is Grandma in?”
“Of course,” Lydia grinned, hugging her grandson. “Shes off in Cornwallnew adventure! Another romance.”
“Go on, Gran! Who is it this time?”
“Artist, sculptor, something like that. Dont ask me! Shell tell you herself. Wheres Matthew?”
“Parking the car.”
“Perfect. The roasts nearly done, Dad is finishing off a pie. So go and wash updinners soon! Ill put Patrick down and join you.”
“Ha! We all know youll just sit and sing to him until he drifts off!”
“And whats wrong with that?” Lydia said, smiling as she kissed her grandson.
“Its perfect, Mum!”
In the end, families are not about following rigid tradition or arrangements, but about love, forgiveness, and letting go enough to let those we cherish choose their own happiness. Life truly is a dancewe lead, we follow, we stumble, but together, we find our rhythm.
