Who would ever want you? Toothless, childless, plain old Brenda.
Who would ever want you? shouted Paul, spitting on the ground before strolling away.
Brenda rushed to the bay window, gazing out as the man with whom shed lived for 15 years vanished down the lane. Shed thought they shared a soul-deep bond, but his leaving clarified everything: it was all just convenient.
She remembered family photo sessions. Brendas flat was spotless, her cooking near legendary, and she did everything for him. As she watched, she wondered if she should throw open the window and shout for him not to leave her.
Even humiliation seemed bearable, so long as hed stayeven if he spent days away with the other one. Anything not to be forty-five and abandoned.
Shed just placed her hands on the window frame when her gaze landed on her fathers portrait, the one of him in army dress, chin up, eyes proud and unyielding.
Suddenly, Brenda reconsidered. Shame warmed her cheeks at the thought of pleading. She watched again as her once-dashing, elegant husband disappeared into his sleek car, suitcases in hand.
She retreated to the kitchen, passing the old dressing table in the corridora family heirloom, full-length, silvered and spidery.
It reflected back an exhausted, heavyset woman: dull grey hair, faded eyes.
Brenda knew she wasnt a beauty. Health wasnt what it washer teeth were crumbling, no money for the dentist. Shed spent all her savings on Pauls new car and his pristine work wardrobe.
What are you playing at, girl? Pauls dressed up like a film star and youre shuffling about in a stretched jumper, prehistoric skirt, two blouses, battered pumps and some ancient shawl instead of boots. That old coatmy nan wouldnt wear it in a fit! He treats your cooking like hes at the Ritzsteak one day, steamed fishcakes the next, pancakes stuffed with everything short of gold dust. Cant you see its time to let the man go? That was Lucy, Brendas colleague.
Brenda listened, but never quite changed her ways. Until, one day, Paul announced he was leavingfor a 27-year-old woman with four children.
Shes so young, Brenda sighed.
Lucy, nosey as ever, dug around on Facebook, interrogated neighbours, before reporting back:
She called you plain, but shes from the gutter. Never worked a day. All four kids, different dads. Spent her eighth month tipsy. Her mothers just the same. Youth isnt everything you know. Men like it at firstfun and games, but you cant build a home on that. Im shocked at your Paul. You keep your head up!
Brenda clung on. The flat was hers, large and centrala gift from her father who, as if by prophecy, had left the deed so Paul could never claim the property.
Brenda decided to rent out a room for some extra pounds.
There were building projects nearby, and an engineer moved inbearded, polite, educated. His name was Oliver Percival. He admired Brenda, and one day, quite out of the blue, said:
Ill pay the rent up front. You deserve to sort your teethsuch a lovely lady shouldnt suffer.
Brenda flushed with embarrassment. She never felt lovely. But the thought of new teeth was intoxicating.
Oliver handed her a fat sum, insisting she pay it back if she could. Later, his brother arrivedwhat a sight! Canary yellow jacket, violet trousers, and a hairstyle that belonged in a circus. Called himself Giles, and he was a stylist.
Hed come to check on his brother and took Brenda under his wing. When she served cakes to the lodgers, Giles suggested an image overhaul.
And he truly transformed herher hair glistened in the light, makeup lit up her features, new teeth gleamed. She walked to work every day, shed the old weight, started jogging in the park each morning.
She became gentle and radiant, dimples flashing in her smilea butterfly freed from drab cocoon.
Then, one afternoon, the doorbell rang. The tenant answered and bellowed, Brenda, its someone for you!
At the threshold: her ex-husband. Brenda barely recognised Paulhed aged a decade, pallid and lost, none of his old sparkle, standing with his bags.
What do you want? Brenda asked.
She remembered those desperate nights, dialing his number till he blocked her. Now, here he was.
You look incredible! Paul gasped, wide-eyed.
Compliments barely touched Brenda. She remembered the sleepless nights, the panic, the urge to disappear.
Oh, Brenda, its been hell. That witch just sucked my wallet dry. Her kids seemed fine at first, but theyre feralscreaming all the time, she barely speaks to them. She sits glued to her mobile, never cooks. Bought bags of frozen chips. Made instant noodles. For me! Washed all my shirts together, colours ran everywhere. I havent bought myself a thing. All my wages, them. Felt locked in a madhouse. Brenda, things were good with you. I still think about you. Lets start again, please?
But ringing in Brendas ears were his words:
Who would ever want you? Toothless, childless, plain old Brenda.
Brenda eyed him one last time. Then the door swung open againa worried Oliver peered out.
Brenda dear, do you need any help? Sir, are you here on business?
Paul bristled, chest out, And who the hell are you?
This is my husband, Oliver. Dont come back here again! Brenda slammed the door, leaving Paul gaping.
She murmured an apology to Oliver for calling him husband. He sighed and blurted,
Maybe its time to say this: Brenda, I love you. How could anyone let go of a woman so remarkable? Will you marry mefor real?
Oliver was a widower. Brenda said yes. In two months, they wed. He flooded her life with roses. They bought a cottage in the country.
Brenda never noticed Paul peering from behind the hedges, muttering curses at himself for trading a gem for a mirage.
Left with nothing.
While Brenda and Oliver strolled the lane hand in hand, love in their eyes. Brenda was expecting.
Give this dream a like, and share your own waking thoughts below!
