A Real Woman
– Sarah, where are you?! Bring the pickled onions! How much longer do I have to wait?!
My husband had definitely lost patience now, raising his voice from the kitchen, but I was busy. I was carefully applying mascara, my new, outrageously expensive one, to my left lashes, occasionally pausing to admire the result. My right eyealready done up with eyeliner and those fancy shadows that my friend Janet swore were only fit for a posh partylooked twice its normal size and honestly, a little alarming. But I certainly wasnt about to stop there.
I hadnt got a moment to check on the onions soaking in the sink.
All because, less than a week ago, my husbandthe very same Thomas currently sealing jars of onions for the winterannounced out of nowhere:
I want you to be a real woman!
And then he handed me his bank card with a years worth of savings on it.
Saying I was shocked doesnt even cover it.
My first instinct, of course, was to cause a proper scene. Honestly, if Thomas managed to hide any cash from the family, then he probably wasnt just holding back wages but who knows what else. How could one tell what else he was keeping from me? Thoughts came tumbling in; it was overwhelming! Whats a woman to do?!
But right on the heels of that thought came another. Before I could open my mouth to let loose, I flopped onto the kitchen stool and promptly forgot about the stew bubbling away on the hob.
A real woman? What on earth is that supposed to mean?!
Honestly, I could have screamed. The urge to smash the new tea setMum-in-laws gift, the one Id dreamed about for yearswas almost unbearable. That set was expensive, the sort of thing Id only ever dared imagine in blissful dreams. But Thomass mum just up and gave it to me. When I cried, sorting through the plates, she laughed:
Oh, Sarah! Why are you such a softie? Id do anything for you! Just be happy, all right?
Her reason for it was a total mystery, but she wouldnt explain. She hugged me, then Thomas, kissed the grandkids all over, and headed home. She never liked to outstay her welcome, always claiming she had her own house to mind.
And I never argued. Id bring the kids over at weekends, make sure they behaved, always thinking of ways to please the woman who welcomed me in without complaint.
And goodness knows, she could have complained. Even my relatives tried their hardest to have a go, so what could I expect from a woman Id only met once before the wedding? That time, Thomas had introduced me and my little boy to his mum. I sat in the car petrified, first glancing at my dozing son, then looking at Thomas.
Maybe we just shouldnt. Whatll I say? What if she kicks us out? She will, you know!
Why would you think that? Thomas was puzzled.
Because! When I had Jack, my own aunt kicked me out. Said Id brought shame and wouldnt have me. Why would your mum treat me any better? Baby in my arms and all. Oh, Thomas, youre so naïve!
Go on, just give her a chance. She might surprise you.
The last thing I wanted was to be surprised. But what choice did I have? Wasnt going to turn back once wed come this far. I scooped up my sleepy son and followed Thomas in.
Thomass mother, Margaret Evans, did surprise me. She greeted me calmly, took a long look, then stretched out her arms.
Trust me? Ill settle him in my room. Hes exhausted from all the travelling
And somehow, I just handed little Jack over. He didnt fight, just blinked, mumbled, then put his arms round Margarets neck, while she crooned and sang until he drifted off again.
Jack called Margaret Gran the second he learned the word, and she never objected. Thats when she properly, irreversibly, won my heart.
I was a mum youngjust eighteen. Who Jacks dad was, well, everyone in the village knew. It was all gossip and speculation, mostly about whether Simon Murphy would marry Sarah Martin, or just have his wicked way with her like all the other girls before me. Simons reputation was rotten, and I knew it. I kept my distance. Didnt even want to look his way.
But Simon was sly, always knew what to say to make a girls heart skip. If words didnt work, hed do as he pleased. Most would keep quiet, try to hide their shame.
But not me.
When I came back one day from visiting my aunt in Reading, I was running late. I had to cross the fields as the bus only went as far as the next village, and the driver wouldnt go further, however much I pleaded.
Im not risking the petrol for one passenger! Youll walk. Its fine, the weathers good. I need to get home!
So, walk I did.
Simons rusty old Ford caught up with me by the village.
Bit late for you to be out alone, Sarah. Hop in!
No thanks, Simon. Ill walk, I said, backing awaybut it was too late
I got home in a torn dress, in tears. I didnt go inMum was sleepingso I went to the shed and tried to scrub away what had happened until dawn, sobbing, hating myself for letting my guard down. Mostly I just worried about hiding it all from Mum. The doctor had been very clear her heart was fragile, couldnt cope with any stress.
Anything could happen if she gets worked up. Understand?
Did I understand? Did I ever. Mum was all I had. Aunt didnt countat least I didnt know that then. I helped her with farm work and thought family meant being there, no questions asked.
Mum never learned what happened. I was five months along when she quietly passed away in her sleep, leaving me completely alone.
Auntie came to help, but immediately disowned me and the baby.
You got yourself into this, you can sort it yourself! Dont come to me! Why didnt you tell the police? At least youd have a husband now! And some respect! No, Sarah! Dont drag me into it. Ive got my own problems!
I could barely standI was crying so muchso I didnt even grasp what Auntie said at first. Only days later did it sink in: no one was going to help me. So, I went to the local bobby.
Sarah! Why didnt you say something sooner? Why hide this? Ill make sure he gets whats coming!
Simon got arrested.
Once I finally found my voice, it turned out Simon had half a dozen children in the area. Mothers began to open up, and the truth came out.
Simons mother, once he was sentenced, cursed me loudly in the streetspat at my feet and wished my child would be sick or never born at all.
But the villagers stood by me. That very night, they tarred the Murphys gate, and within months forced them to sell up and move away.
I gave birth to a healthy, howling baby boy. Not a trace of Simon in himhe was all Martin, right down to his grandfathers ears and nose, grandmothers brown curly hair and cherry-dark eyes.
Neighbours helped out with chores, baby clothes, a borrowed cradle. I was grateful beyond words. The bit of money left from Mum I used sparingly. I knew having a baby was only the beginning. Raising him on my ownwell, that was a challenge and a half.
Just when I felt wed be alrightthat if the worst happened, someone would helpAunt turned up from the city, along with uncles Id never even seen (theyd fallen out with Mum years before).
Sarah, look, youll have to go, they said, hesitating on my doorstep. This place is ours, and well be selling. Mum had the use of it while she was alive, but things change. We need the cash now.
What about me?
Thats up to you. Well give you Mums sharefairs fairbut past that, its your problem.
It wasnt even enough for a decent shed in the village, let alone a house. So that meant the city. But what could I do thereno friends, no support? At least here, the neighbours cared. Aunt glared at the cradle, muttering under her breath what a mistake it all was
I ignored her. No one had the right to say whose life I should cherish. My son was mine, and I would protect him, always.
Relatives gone, I cried my heart out. Who wouldnt, parting with the only home Id ever known?
While I was wallowing, though, the neighbours spread Aunts news. Some were angry for me, some blamed me, couldnt wrap their heads around why I made the choices I did. Tongues wagged, but they didnt forget to act. The very next day, the community bobby stopped by.
Listen, Sarah, theres a lady in the next village, Mrs. Thompson, selling half her cottage. Her husbands gone, the children grown, and she struggles. Lovely ladywhy dont I take you to visit at the weekend? You can decide if you like it then.
Thank you! I nearly hugged him.
Hows Jack?
Growing!
With a wink at my son, the bobby went on his way, and I brushed my hand across Mums photograph, promising myself:
Well make it, Mum. Were going to be just fine.
I clicked with Mrs. Thompson instantly.
Dont worry about me, love. Im easy, provided theres peace in the house. If you behave, well be grand. Happy to look after the little one if you want to work, but only if you need a job. Dont ask me to babysit so you can have a night out, now!
Are there jobs around the village? I could use the work.
Yes, love. My friends looking for someone at her shop. In fact, shes just opened a third branch. Should I put a word in?
Yes, please!
Well, there we go. Two birds with one stone! A good day all round.
It was at the shop that I met Thomas. He was in the village helping his mother, sent out to pick up some groceries.
I packed his bags for him, and somehow found myself telling him everything: about Jack, about Mrs. Thompsonwhod become Gran to Jack tooand about life since Mum. Id never been much of a talker, but somehow, with Thomas, I couldnt help it.
He never interrupted, just listened, and left clearly affected by the whole thing. He knew, deep down, that those brown-cherry eyes and my quiet voice wouldnt leave him in peace again.
He didnt come back at first. Not right away. How could he? How do you tell a woman youre drawn to that your own life is a mess? That your wife had up and left in the middle of the night, abandoning two boys, the youngest still a baby? Thomas had to care for them alonehis mother tied up with his sick father. His sons were loving, lively, and sometimes they cried at night for a mother theyd all but forgotten or never even knew.
He couldnt work out how to tell me all this. So he just hung about outside the shop, never daring to come in.
It didnt occur to him that I might be wondering too. I asked Mrs. Thompson one day about Thomas, and so, by the time he finally showed up again, I already knew his story.
How olds your eldest? I greeted him, barely letting him through the door.
Hell be three soon.
And the younger?
Hes just turned one.
Sos my Jack.
Sarah
Introduce me to your boys. Then well see.
And that was that.
We had a small wedding, just family. Then off to the seaside with all the kids, where I must have been more excited than they werehaving never been away anywhere myself.
How could I not be happyI had a family, a husband, kids, everything at last.
It wasnt all plain sailing, of course. Our eldest got sick, and I spent two months with him at hospital, leaving the younger ones with my mother-in-law. Later, the boys birth mother turned up demanding the children back. Well, I gave her what for. I made the trip to my old village to talk with the bobby, saw everything through, and soon enough, the boys legally became mine as well as in my heart.
Their mother disappeared yet again before the court could decide, and Margaret, after hugging me tightly, said:
I can rest easy about the children now!
Time passed. Our children grew; I stayed the samequiet, slightly nervous, smiling on good days and badbut everyone in the village knew better than to cross me. For all my kitten ways, Id turn tiger if anyone touched my family.
And thencan you imagine?!he dared say I wasnt a woman!
I spent all night wide awake after Thomas handed me that card. I kept getting up, looking in the mirror in the dim light, twisting this way and that, and trying to see what was wrong with me. I wouldnt ask my husband, too cross. So in the morning, once the kids were dropped off at school and nursery, I went to Janets.
Jan, what am I supposed to do?!
Janet was as dreamy as me. Her solution was, naturally, to consult those womens magazines full of advice. Why would they exist if they didnt have answers, right? Not a soul would read them if they didnt! She gathered every magazine in her house and, a half-hour later, we knew: A real woman must eat right, dress right, do her makeup properly, and be generally perfector else shes not a woman at all, just something peculiar, with or without a bow. And good thing if youve got a bowunlike me!
I didnt buy a bow. But Janet convinced me to get some good cosmetics, a new nightie, and a pair of drop-dead gorgeous heels that I barely dared take out the box in case the boys ruined them.
Strangely enough, Thomas didnt much notice my efforts.
I had nearly finished my makeup when the bathroom door swung open and I jabbed myself right in the eye with my brush! Just then, I decided maybe I didnt want to be a real woman after all.
Sarah, whats up?! Thomas exclaimed, watching me hop on one foot, tears streaming, muttering in pain and trying to wipe my eyes but only smearing all my hard work across my face and the bathroom.
Its your fault! I hissed through my teeth, finally realising Id have to wash it all off. You wanted a real woman? What am I then, chopped liver?!
Finally catching on, Thomas hugged me, putting an end to my frantic hopping.
Hang on, love. Let me help.
Dabbing my face ever so gently, he told me:
Im a bit thick, but honestly, youre no better! You know Im rubbish with words. Couldnt you just ask instead of storming off?
Why did you give me that money and say I wasnt a real woman? I tried to wriggle free but he held me close.
Because for as long as weve been together, youve never spent on yourselfnot once! Always the children, or me, or my mother. Even your gifts come last. Thats why I thoughtheres some money, spend how you like, like those women who shop for things just because they fancy them.
Now I was the one laughing.
I laughed so hard it nearly ended in disaster. The kids, not sure if I was crying or laughing, caused such a racket it took ages to calm them.
That evening, after tucking everyone in, I stood on the porch, face scrubbed clean, looking up at the sky and giggling quietly at the chaos Id caused that day.
All sorted! The last of the onions are done! Thomas came and settled next to me on the steps.
Did you pack them properly?
Of course! Theyll be best in class!
Hope sotheyll come in handy soon enough! I smiled, placing his hand on my stomach.
What?! And you kept this from me?! Thomas gasped, hugging me tight.
When was I supposed to tell you? You and your onions You barely have time for poor me!
Id have said more, but my husband had other ideas.
First he kissed me, making sure I couldnt possibly forget what it meant to be a woman, then held me close, where I belonged.
Right at his heart, a little off-centrewhere the soul breathes.
