Leaving the hospital, Poppy bumped straight into a man at the doorway.
Excuse me, he said, his eyes lingering a moment longer than politeness required.
In the next heartbeat his gaze turned smug, he turned away and, as if on cue, pretended shed never existed.
Shed collected that sort of look a hundred times. Tall, willowy girls attracted a very different staremens eyes, when they caught a slender beauty, switched from indifferent to greedy, as if a prize had been spotted. It hurt Poppy to the core. Was she at fault for being born that way?
As a child everyone praised her round cheeks, chubby legs and plump bottom. At school, during the rollcall for gymnastics, she always lined up first among the girls.
Bullies christened her Fatty and Pumpkin after a cartoon hog, then went on with cruel nicknames that are best left unsaid. Children, as you know, can be merciless. Teachers saw the teasing but did nothing.
Poppy tried every diet she could find, yet the hunger never left, and the pounds she shed returned with a vengeance. She was pleasant enough, but her extra weight spoiled any first impression.
She once dreamed of becoming a teacher, but abandoned the idea, fearing that the children would still find new insults for her. After school she enrolled at a nursing college. When people are ill they hardly care what the caregiver looks like, only that the pain eases. The male students were few, the women occupied themselves with romances and weddings, while Poppy remained solitary. In tutorials the girls would ask her to sit in the front row, then hide behind her broad back to avoid the lecturers gaze.
She stared longingly at the elegant dresses displayed in shop windows, knowing shed never afford to wear such things. Her uniform consisted of loose blouses and wide skirts that concealed her shape. She excelled at her studies, gave injections skillfully and painlessly, and the summer patients grew fond of her.
One evening she joined a group of girls at the local ice rink. Teenagers flung snide comments her way. Look, the pork factorys coming, the boys laughed. Their taunts made Poppys eyes well up.
Her mother tried to set her up with the sons of her friends. Poppy went on a few dates. One lad pretended he wasnt interested and walked off; another, before he could even introduce himself, reached to grope her. She pushed him away, and he slipped, landing on his back in a puddle. What are you doing? Ive made you happy. Who do you think you need? he shouted, tears choking his words. After that Poppy swore off dating entirely.
On her socialmedia profile she used a picture of Fiona from Shrek. When a bloke messaged asking what she really looked like, she replied, Exactly that, just not green. He took it as a joke and suggested a meeting; she cut off the conversation immediately.
One day a sixyearold darted into the ward corridor.
Where are you rushing off to? There are patients here, you cant be noisy, she said, catching his hand.
I wanted to skate on the linoleum, he admitted.
Who are you with?
Dad, and were off to see my nan. Wheres the loo?
She led him to the end of the hall. Youll manage on your own? he asked with a mischievous glance. She wasnt offended. Soon the sound of running water echoed from a nearby room, and the boy emerged.
Now lets go, show me which ward your nan is in, she said. He sighed and waddled alongside her, stopping at a door. He made a solemn face, tapped a finger to his lips. She watched, suppressing a smile.
That one, I think, he pointed at the fourth door.
Think? You didnt even read the number? Maybe you cant count? she teased, noticing it was a mens ward.
No, I know my letters. Thats room five, he corrected, pointing to the fifth door.
Ah, you rascal, she pretended to scold. He burst out laughing.
Whats your name? she asked.
Im Ollie, he answered just as the fifth door swung open and a tall, pleasantlooking man stepped out.
Oi Ollie, why are you late? the man asked, then spotted Poppy. He gave her a quick glance, judged her appearance, and his interest vanished.
Was he playing? he asked another staff member.
Poppy had seen countless indifferent, contemptuous male glances.
He wasnt playing. Dont scold him, she said, then walked away.
Lets say goodbye to nan; were out of time, she heard behind her.
The next day Ollie and his dad visited the nan again. The man passed Poppy without a second look. She stuck out her tongue at him; Ollie turned, laughed, and gave a thumbup. Poppy smiled and waved.
Later she entered the fifth ward.
Good morning, Mrs. Green. Did your grandson visit today? she asked.
Yes, hes a wonderful lad. I wish I could watch him grow, the woman replied.
Its still early for you to be thinking about grandchildren, Poppy quipped.
May God help you. His mother left us, ran off with our son, Mrs. Green sighed.
His mother? Poppy prompted.
Shes alive, but she abandoned us. I suppose youre wondering why Im telling you this, Mrs. Green said.
The story continued: her son had married a beauty who later admitted she already had a child. Can you start a marriage on a lie? she asked. Her husband suffered a heart attack and she ended up in the hospital. Two years ago, the mother of little Ollie got an attractive offer abroad, became a model, and left her son behind. The women her son now dates are all selfabsorbed and selfish, and Ollie refuses them.
Poppy spent the whole day mulling over Mrs. Greens tale. When she entered to give an injection, the woman sniffed.
Mrs. Green, you dont need to worry, remember? Poppy said sternly.
Im not worried. Look, she handed over a drawing of a boy holding both parents hands.
Thats Ollie and his parents, Poppy said.
No, thats his mother, the nurse corrected.
Shes thin in my memory, yet this picture shows a large lady, taller than the father. Looks a lot like you, Mrs. Green insisted, wiping tears.
The image made Poppy think: even a child sees how big she appears, how a handsome father could never compare. She let the thought drift.
From then on, each time Poppy gave an injection to Mrs. Green, they exchanged a few lines. When Ollie came back to the hospital, he approached her.
Good day. Are your hands reliable? he asked.
Im not sure, she replied, flustered.
Nan says youre trustworthy. Shell be discharged soon, right? My birthdays next week, he blurted.
I think shell be discharged soon. How old are you?
Six. Id like to invite you to my party.
Thanks, Ill come, but I must ask your dad first, she said.
Ill do that now, Ollie ran off.
Later, a man named Ian and his son waited for Poppy at the ward entrance.
Dad, you promised, Ollie tugged his fathers sleeve as Poppy arrived.
I remember, Ian replied, looking at Poppy. Youre invited to my sons birthday. Hell be six. Heres the address and phone number. Itll be at one oclock on Saturday, if you have no other plans.
Yes, Ive got no plans, Poppy said, cheeks flushing.
A weeks left, I need to lose a few stones, she thought.
At home she told her mother about Ollie.
You must go. Boys understand more than most men. Maybe youll find something with his dad? Dont mind me. Hes looking for his mother.
He never looks my way, Poppy sighed.
Dont exaggerate. He cares about his own feelings and yours. Otherwise hed have married a model by now.
Saturday morning she set her hair, chose a dress, tinted her lashes, and stood before the mirror, dissatisfied. No amount of makeup makes me thinner.
She had bought the present a week earlier after being invited. Ollie will be waiting, I must go, she muttered, stepping out.
The moment she pressed the call button, the lock clicked. Her heart hammered.
Poppys here! Ollie shouted, rushing forward and giving her a brief hug. She patted his shortcropped hair and handed him the gift. The colourful box made his eyes sparkle.
In the middle of the room a festive table was already laid. Beside it sat Ian, a striking blonde, and an older gentlemanOllies grandfather.
Meet my saviour, Poppy, and this is Boris, my husband. You know my son, right? And this is Ivans friend, Susan, a woman named Margaret announced, not looking at the blonde.
The blonde raised an eyebrow. Margaret poured salad onto Poppys plate, but the wine glass slipped, spilling onto the blondes lap. She sprang up, the chair behind her crashed, and chaos erupted.
Despite apologies, the blonde headed for the door, unimpeded. Poppy also prepared to leave.
Dont take offence, but Ian began.
Offence? Why should I be offended? Poppy replied. I suppose its time for me to go anyway.
My mothers made her special pie. Dont hurt her feelings, then Ill drive you home.
In the car they rode in silence.
I didnt ask you to see me. I could have walked home myself, Poppy finally said.
My mother would never forgive me if I didnt see you. You keep appearing in my path. I wont be surprised if she decides to marry us.
I dont love you, nor you me. Im not planning to marry you, she answered, voice trembling. Dont worry, Ill try not to get in your way again.
The car stopped outside a house. She tried the locked door.
Open it now, she demanded.
Ian leaned in and kissed her. She shoved him away hard.
What? Sick of blondes? Bored with the plump? Decided to have a laugh with me? Ah, of course. I ought to thank you for the attention, she spat, eyes flashing, cheeks flushed.
She hadnt realized how striking she looked in that instant. Ian stared at her, overwhelmed. The blondes, confident in their own allure, stayed icy.
Sorry, truly. I dont know what came over me. I didnt mean to insult you.
No man has ever kissed me, except when they thought they were pleasing me. Im looked at with pity, dismissed without a second glance, she snapped, exiting the car.
By late August the weather turned cold, rain and wind battered the streets, leaves fell fast. Three weeks had passed since Ollies birthday; Poppy hadnt seen Ian.
She returned from work, slipped off her damp shoes, and her mother appeared in the hallway.
A young man visited you, didnt he?
What man?
Handsome, seemed nervous. He asked you to call him.
Poppy dialed Ians number straight away.
Its me. Ollies ill. Could you come? He needs his meds
Im on my way! Poppy replied, hurrying to change.
Leaving the block, she regretted not checking for alcohol wipes or syringes earlier, so she popped into a chemist and bought everything.
Ollie cheered at her arrival. His hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead, a sign his fever was dropping. She washed her hands, prepared the injection, and handed him antibiotics and vitamins.
You remember I have steady hands, right? Dont be scared, she said, noticing the fear in his eyes. He shut his eyes tight, then grinned, admitting the pinch was only a little painful.
Ian watched her, eyes sparkling with curiosity. No one had ever looked at her that way. She blushed, embarrassed, and felt a strange warmth flutter in her chest.
Later Ian drove her home.
Lets pop into a café. We never really talked.
Im sure youre doing this for the boy. I cant be loved. Im too heavy.
Youre not heavy. Youre warm, soft, kind. Children never miss the truth. Youve won Ollie over, and me as well. I think we could build something solid.
What if Ollies mother returns?
She wont. She signed the papers, settled the divorce. Shes moved on. Hes mine. So, will you go on a date with me?
Yes, Poppy said simply.
Everyone has a counterpart, a match, whether good or bad, but life feels emptier without them. Appearances matter little; oftentimes we fail to recognise the soul that matches our own. And love? Perhaps love alone lets us see a swan where once we saw only a clumsy duckling, a plump girl with a tender heart created just for one.
