As a younger woman, she’d always imagined her life with children in it. She’d never pictured an alternative.
There’s still time, she used to tell herself when she reached thirty-seven, then thirty-nine and forty-one. But as she got older, so did her parents. As their health got worse, their dependence grew greater.
When she turned forty-two, Martha started to have a recurring dream that temporarily replaced her one about drowning. In it, she daubed on scarlet lipstick, went to a bar and sat on a high stool, sipping a margarita. A man would stroll in, usually looking a lot like Joe, and join her. After a few drinks, they’d slip away to his place for a night of torrid passion.
But then she’d wake up. She’d hear Thomas coughing or Betty flushing the toilet and she’d come back down to earth with a thud.
As she got out of bed to help them, her cheeks would be fiery with shame. However, she’d also feel a kernel of longing, because a huge part of her wanted to try out the dream for size, in real life. She was more likely to have a child through a one-night stand than by meeting and starting a relationship with someone.
She hadn’t heard her biological clock ticking, as such. It was more a landslide sensation as her hopes slipped away.
When a doctor informed her that she was entering an early menopause, Martha finally laid her hopes for a family to rest. She dedicated herself fully to looking after her parents. Her dreams of seducing a stranger subsided, and the one about struggling in the sea returned.
“No. I never married,” she told Suki, hearing the regret in her own voice. “Though I almost did, once...”
Suki nodded empathetically. She dabbed and patted the dragon’s ear. “Ben and I nearly did, too, before it all went wrong. I could see our future together so clearly, like it was a photo, but not filtered and posted on Instagram yet. Now I wonder why I was so blind. I think he was always too repugnant to commit, but I chose not to see it.”
Martha wasn’t sure if she meant reluctant instead, or if she had used the correct word.
“What’s your story, Martha? What happened to you?” Suki asked.
Martha hadn’t talked about Joe since they split up. His was another name that her dad didn’t like mentioned in the house.
In her mind, though, she could still see her ex-fiancé’s ruffled mousy hair, the goofy grin that belied his fierce intelligence. She felt his hand in hers, and it still surprised her to wake up and find that she wasn’t in her twenties and he wasn’t beside her.
“You’ll probably spend our wedding morning darning socks for someone else,” he used to tease.
He was the opposite to her, a calm, chilled man who let worries and stresses flow over him like a trickling brook. And she was the one who scurried, made lists and was forever busy. He encouraged her to be the person she wanted to be.
As she traced her fingers over the papier-maché, smoothing out the lumps and bumps, she found herself wanting to tell Suki more about Joe. It was suddenly important that this young woman knew her as someone other than Martha, volunteer librarian, laundry-doer and dragon head–rescuer.
She wanted to say his name out loud, to remind herself that he had existed, once.
“We lived together in a small cottage, just over a mile from here,” she said. “It had the tiniest rooms and was always cold, whatever the season, so we had to wear lots of layers to keep warm. But it was ours and we loved it. We were happy with the simple things in life—paddling in the sea, eating fish and chips on a bench in the drizzle, or an evening at home watching TV wrapped in a blanket.
“We’d been together for four years when we booked a church for our wedding. We didn’t want a posh ceremony, or anything fancy for our reception. We were happy with pie and peas and pickled red cabbage, served in the church hall.” Martha felt her eyes shine as she talked, but the sparkle faded when she thought about the next part of her story.
“Then my dad got sick. He’d always been pretty active, but he slowed right down and had difficulty walking. He went for tests and was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It meant he couldn’t work.”
Suki shook her head, her lips tight. “Oh, I’m so sorry...”
“He’d never liked the idea of my mother having a job. So there wasn’t any money coming in to the house. Joe and I helped them out financially, all we could, but we were saving for our wedding. Joe always felt like he’d done something wrong because Dad wouldn’t speak to him properly, but it was just his way.
“Anyway, while Dad was going through his tests, Joe was offered a job in New York. He was a journalist and a friend asked him to work on a new newspaper out there. It was an amazing opportunity, for both of us. I was working in a bookshop at the time, and I was ready to try something new.”
Martha swallowed as a wave of regret swept over her. She had to take a minute before she carried on. Spotting a small gash under the dragon’s chin, she pointed it out to Suki.
“I couldn’t leave my parents behind, though. Dad was depressed after his diagnosis and Mum was wearing herself out, looking after him. She wanted to find work, but he wouldn’t listen. So I suggested that Joe should fly out to America first. He’d find us a place to live and get settled in. We’d postpone the wedding, so he could concentrate on his new job. I’d join him as soon as I could. It’d give Dad longer to see if he felt better, and Mum could secretly look for work. It all sounded so, um...” She struggled to find a word.
“Feasi-bubble?”
“Yes, feasible. But Dad didn’t improve. His condition worsened and some days he was in a lot of pain. Mum found it hard to cope with him, so I ended up staying longer.”
She looked down as she remembered her mum gripping her wrists, her neck all sinewy. “Please don’t leave me alone here, Martha,” Betty had pleaded. “Not while he’s like this. Promise me. You can go to Joe when things get better.”
And Martha made her promise.
“But, you did join Joe eventually?” Suki looked at Martha expectantly.
Martha wiped her hands on a piece of tissue. “I flew out to see him for a few days, and he showed me all these amazing sights, the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. It was like we’d never been apart. But I could see things had already started to change. He talked about our future, but I was worried about my parents. They needed me more than Joe did...”
“Couldn’t your sister have helped out?” Suki brushed at a smudge of papier-maché that had dried and whitened on her cheek.
“Lilian had just got married and Joe waited for me, for over a year. But we only saw each other that once in New York. His job made it difficult for him to come home. Eventually, we both realized that I wasn’t going to join him, and we put things on hold.”
She gave a small sniff. Her words started to stick in her throat. “After a few months, Joe met someone else and she fell pregnant straight away. He married her instead of me.”
She took a small ball of papier-maché and squashed it between her thumb and forefinger, briefly imagining how her life could have been so different. If only she hadn’t tried to be the perfect daughter. If only she had been braver. She’d have had the foundations in place for a different life, but she let them crumble.
“Well.” Suki sat back on her heels. She gave an indignant sigh. “It just shows that Joe wasn’t the right person for you.”
A lump swelled in Martha’s throat. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. “I know that he was the right person. I just had to make a choice. I did my best to please everyone.” She gritted her teeth to try to stop the flood of emotion that was threatening to overtake her.
Don’t have an outburst and show yourself up again, she told herself.
“You always try to please everyone else, rather than yourself,” Suki said.