11th April
Today, as I stood in the garden, I found myself marveling at how much Thomas has transformed the place. He levelled out the earth, built me flowerbeds, and even put up a charming little summerhouse. You can tell a proper mans touch in every corner of the house too. I truly did make the right choice marrying Thomas. Absolutely the right choice. And on top of that, he earns good money. Hes always trying to surprise me with little gifts.
Sometimes Thomas will say, But you didnt love me. You married me without love. Now youll leave, now that Ive fallen ill
I wont leave! I always reply, giving him a firm hug. Youre the best husband! I could never leave you
He can hardly believe its true. Hes been rather blue lately, but who wouldnt in his shoes?
Ive been a married woman for over twenty-five years now, and through all those years, men have still seemed to take an interest in me. Even as a young girl, I was always the one the boys chased afternot for my looks, mind you, I never considered myself a beauty.
But it was always that way. Even back in school, nearly every boy had a bit of a thing for me. My mother could never quite understand it, and maybe neither could I.
I never left my first husband, despite all his complexities. No, I stayed with Peter till he passed away. Together, we raised our daughter, Alice, and watched her settle down. Her husband whisked her off to France, and now they send back lovely photos and keep urging me to visit. Peter and I never did make that tripmaybe Ill go one day, but Peters gone now.
His death was so suddena car crash. Silly really, although later I was told that most likely hed fallen ill at the wheel. His heart was weak. Lost control, poor man.
Maybe he fainted? I wondered aloud.
Well never know for sure, sighed my friend Sarah, whos a doctor. Multiple injuries, though. Not survivable.
I was in shock. Thank heavens for Sarah helping me sort out the details.
She was the one who found out what had happened through her contacts. We buried Peter and then I was alone in this rather large house that wed spent our lives building together.
It felt just the right size when it was the two of us, especially when we had guests, but now, on my own well, for one woman it feels far too big. More of a burden than a blessing, really. A house is a house, and it needs a mans touch.
Alice came home to say goodbye to her dad, and while she was here, she started talking about selling up, moving into a flat, or possibly even moving to live with them.
No way! I declared. I didnt spend years building this home just to sell it off. And Im not interested in your France adventures either. Seen it, thanks.
Mum!
Oh, dont mind me, Alice, I was joking, I smiled through tears.
If youre joking, then maybe its not so bad after all, she said.
Everything was complicatedjust like my late husband. Peter could be the most loving, caring man on Earth one day, and the next, if he was in a mood, hed drain every ounce of patience from me. Hed always apologise afterwards, and I was never one to hold a grudge. That was our life: twenty-five years of it. Enough to drive anyone batty.
Alice stayed for a little while and then went backher husband works a lot, so she hurried home to keep their own life in order. Just left me rattling around in this big old house.
Truthfully, I know myself; I dont stay down for long.
And I didnt. I moped for six months, and when I brushed the tears away, sure enough, I looked around and found a little crowd of admirers already vying for my attention.
My own mother used to shake her head in disbelief. What do they all see in you? They just drop like flies! Youre not even particularly pretty, or am I missing something?
Youre just a kind soul, Mum, Id say, dabbing on a bit of lipstick. Beauty is nothing special. Empty stuff. A woman should be charming, magnetic. With a bit of sparkle.
Go on, go enjoy yourself, shed laugh. Or your suitor will get tired of waiting and go find another.
Another will come by, Id shrug without a care.
And now nearly thirty years have passed since those chats with my mumand nothings changed. Women still sigh that there arent any eligible men left, not a one worth marrying after forty, but I dont get it. Here I am at forty-six, and I have two suitors, both good.
My heart was drawn to David. I liked him so muchcharming, intelligent, good company, easy to talk to, and handsome in that interesting way. But David was really a master when it came to conversation. I suppose I fell for him with my ears, but with age and experience, I know he isnt someone to share a life with. Not in my big house.
The other, Thomas, was a salt-of-the-earth kind of man. One of those blokes who can knock back a few pints at the pub and still be up at dawn, hands on, fixing things, getting things done. Proper golden hands, as Mum would sayeasy-going, calm, but strong-willed underneath.
Hes the sort whos gentle as a lamb with his wife, but would move mountains for her if she needed it. Trouble is, I fancied him less than Davidsuch is womens logic, I suppose.
He never said pretty things. Sober Thomas could be downright silent, but a pint or two and hed open up, tell a joke, or share an amusing story. He really could drink, too, but the next day hed douse himself with cold water and crack on.
Thats who I picked. Thomas.
David took it to heartgave up his dreams of wooing me with words and left.
Thomas was over the moon when I accepted his proposal. He drank too much at the wedding, sang, danced till he dropped.
Blimey, Sarah teased at the reception. Barely a year after Peters passing and already youre married again. Nothings changed! Some women cant find a man for love nor money, and you only need to step outside.
Dont you start with, What do they see in you? Youre not even a looker! I laughed.
Alright, I wont say itbut it is odd, the way youre always in demand.
I dont know what they see in me, Sarah. Chat to my mum about it.
I winked at her and wandered off to dance with Thomas when he came to claim me. As we danced, I talked myself out of the last of my doubts.
So what if Thomas is a bit of an old simpleton? Hes strong, good with his hands, and still looks alright. If he keeps quiet most of the time, maybe thats a blessing. If Id married David, what then? You cant live on flattery alone.
Within months, Thomas turned my old patch of land into a little paradise. Cleared out the scrappy trees, levelled the ground, built lovely flowerbeds and a summerhouse. You could feel that manly care in the house too.
No, I definitely chose well.
He keeps working, earning good money, always bringing me surprises.
I looked back on those twenty-five years with Peter and realisedI genuinely wished Id found Thomas sooner. Hes a treasure!
In spring and summer, wed grill in the evenings, dine in the summerhouseThomas set up a beautiful wooden table and benches.
Id eat too much, feeling contented as a cat, and Thomas would smile at me fondly.
Whats up, Thomas?
Nothing, just happy, hed say.
His first wife was apparently unbearable. Hed never imagined hed find someone like me.
For four years, we were blissfully happy. Then suddenly, Thomas began feeling… not quite himself.
He tired easily, lost weight for no reason. If he drank, which he still enjoyed now and then, he felt terrible.
Thomas, you simply must see the GP! I begged. Theres clearly something wrong.
Stop fussing, Martha, itll pass!
Oh, dont be ridiculous! What if it doesnt? Are you afraid of doctors, like most men?
No
Truth was, Thomas was only afraid of one thingthat if he really was seriously ill, Id leave. Who would want to be stuck with a sick man?
He wasnt stupid. He knew Id married him more out of practicality than wild passion, but he loved me, regardless. He saw me in the shop one day, flustered and digging around in my handbag for my purse, and just fell for me on the spot. There was something heartbreakingly sweet about it. He felt like picking me up and protecting me forever.
His mother eyed me the first time she met me and said, Well, its your life, love, but what do you see in her? Shes not a beauty, not young, and you could have your pick of the younger ones.
No one else would do for Thomas, though. And now, if hes really ill, will I stick by him?
He never did let me persuade him to the doctors. That Saturday, we had Sarah and her husband Nigel round. Thomas and Nigel were in the garden with their lagers, grilling, while Sarah and I chopped salad in the kitchen.
Thomas seems ill, doesnt he? Sarah asked.
I know! I keep begging him to see the doctor, but he wont! Youre a doctorwhat do you think? He doesnt look well, does he?
Wellhe does look worse. Thinner. And is it just me, or is his skin a bit yellow?
Oh, God! Sarah, please talk him into going. Maybe hell listen to you!
Sarah looked at me thoughtfully. Martha do you love him? I remember you being unsure
I bit my lip and said nothing.
But Sarah never got the chanceThomas fainted at the table. We rang for an ambulance. I went with him, held his hand and prayed, though he never regained consciousness.
He was in surgery almost straight away.
Tumour on the liver, they said.
Cancer? I blurted, terrified.
Well have to wait for the results.
Luckily, it was benign, but already a fair size when they caught it.
Doctors banned him from nearly everything, warning recovery would be slow and maybe never complete. He wasnt a young man anymore.
Thomas was despondent. His mother, Patricia, came to visit him in hospital when I was at work, bringing food he was alloweda short list.
Son, you dont look yourself! she said. Survived the scare, its not cancer, you should be jumping for joy, not moping!
I dont feel like eating.
Well, you should! Is Martha visiting?
She comes for now.
What do you mean? You think shell leave you? Then shed be a fool!
Im done for! Cant work, cant do anything. Only fifty come June and Im an invalid. Who wants an invalid?
Whats all this fuss in here? I said as I walked in, hearing her telling him off. Hello, Patricia!
Ill be off then. Bye, Martha. Take care.
Whats happened? I asked.
Patricia waved her hand dismissively and left. I washed my hands and went over to my forlorn-looking husband.
Whats with the long face, then? Youre not an invalid, you still have your arms and legs! Itll all mend. Dyou know what I read about the liver?
What?
The liver can regenerate all on its own. As long as youve got fifty-one percent left, youre fine. And youve got sixty percent! Give it time. Youll be right!
And what if I dont have time?
What do you mean?
Time.
Thomas, whats this about? Have they said something you havent told me? Did you ask the doctors to hide something from me?
No, nothing like that
They eventually discharged him, but life didnt get any easier. Every time Thomas did the least bit of physical work, hed tire almost instantly, which upset him more than anything.
And with his birthday coming upa milestone one, no lesshe dreaded it. No nice food, no drinks allowed. Some treat!
I made sure not to make the situation worsekept eating his bland meals with him, pretending I didnt notice how quickly he got tired.
Love he finally said one evening. Whats going to happen to us now?
In what sense? I asked, puzzled.
Well, Im recovering so slowly. Are you going to leave me? If you are, just say so now.
Why would I leave? I like being with you.
But thats when I could do everything, earn, keep busy. Now, what am I good for? Even I dont want to be around myself.
Oh, dont be daft. Pull yourself together.
Im trying! But what is this? I swing a hammer twice and Im knackered.
I slipped my arms around him from behind, resting my cheek on his back.
I love you, Thomas. Ill never leave. And dont rush to get better. Let it happen in its own time.
You love me? Truly?
I do. Truly.
And I havent left him. Slowly, Thomas is getting better.
For his birthday, I organised a partywithout any bottles of whisky or gin knocking about, so he wouldnt feel he was missing out.
A few friends came, we sat in the summerhouse, played some board games.
Youre lucky in love, Thomas, his mates said as they left.
Youll be off for a proper pint now, wont you? he teased.
We all laughed, and then everyone went home. Later, Thomas and I sat on the porch, gazing up at the stars. Happy. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Thomas truly felt better.
He started to believe he was recovering, to believe I truly wouldnt leave him. He hugged me tighter.
What now, Thomas?
Everythings all right! he replied.
Well, finally, I smiled, and kissed him on the cheek.
We really were happy.
