Forget about me forever
Forget that you ever had a daughter, she snapped, as if shed cut the words cleanly, my daughter Ethel. Everything was moving at a breakneck pace. I felt sorry for both my child and my former husband.
We had been regarded as a respectable family, a household built on love, understanding and support. In an instant it all collapsed.
Ethel had just turned fifteen, a precarious age, and then her father left for another woman! How could I comprehend that, accept it? Ethel tumbled down a slippery slope: dubious company, sketchy lads, cheap booze
I was at a loss too. What should I do with the husband who returned? Expel him or forgive him? Even if I forgave him, how could I go on, suspecting him of everything? There were no answers.
My Edward could love. Wed known each other since school. He courted me beautifully, could surprise and delight. I fell head over heels. No other man ever entered my thoughts as a husband; Edward, and only Edward. My parents approved, saying there was no better soninlaw to be had.
We gave our wedding the splendour of a day meant to be remembered for a lifetime.
Then the ordinary days began. Edward always tried to brighten them. One evening I came home from the office to find our marital bed strewn with rose petals. I was astonished.
Whats the occasion for this prettiness? I kissed his cheek.
Remember, Martha? It was the day I slid into your seat at school and we got to know each other better, he laughed.
Oh, stop it! I brushed him off, though my heart sang. He never let the small moments slip by. That was my husband pure gold.
Edward returned from a business trip bearing a mountain of facial creams.
Martha, Ive been briefed on every bottle and tube. Put away the pans and pots; I need a wellkept wife, not a kitchen maid, he said, settling me onto the settee beside him.
Time passed and Edward remained tender, caring, considerate. I swelled with pride in my husband. Ethel adored him.
We ran a joint family business, which prospered nicely. We denied ourselves nothing. In short, we lived and were happy.
Then we moved to the capital, London, chasing bigger, more lucrative prospects. We left all our possessions behind and set out to conquer new horizons. Business grew steadily, and we struck a partnership with a sharpwitted businesswoman who owned her own firm. Had I known how that would end, I never would have turned my head her way.
At that time everything seemed splendid. Edward and I decided to enlarge our family, planning for a second child naïve, perhaps.
One afternoon Ethel came home from school and asked timidly,
Mum, is Daddy really on a work trip?
Of course, love, what else could it be? I answered, unaware of any trouble.
Vicky says she saw him in the supermarket. She might be mistaken, though, Ethel drifted back to her room.
Vicky Ethels close friend could never mix up Edward with anyone else. She was a frequent visitor to our home.
I called Vicky.
Hello, Vicky! How are you? Did you happen to see Uncle Eddie at the supermarket today? I cant get hold of him, I asked, feigning innocence.
Yes, Aunt Martha, I did. Uncle Eddie was with a young woman. They were hugging and laughing loudly, Vicky described in vivid detail.
Meanwhile Edward was on his fifth day away.
I thought Id wait for the story to unfold.
Three days later Edward returned, tired but cheerful.
How was the trip, love? Successful? I began to prod.
Yes, fine, he replied curtly.
I know everything, Eddie! There was no trip! Youve been lying! I exploded.
What gave you that idea, Martha? Edward protested.
I have witnesses to your bareknuckle lie, I pressed.
Martha, why not feed the husband on his way home and then waste your anger? Edward turned it into a joke.
I wanted it to be a joke, a coincidence, nonsense! Yet I felt the truth was there, unmistakable. How could I have let my beloved husband slip through my fingers, not watched, not guarded?
A silence hung between us, thick with unspoken strain. Ethel sensed the discord. Children see and feel the shifts in their parents relationship instantly.
I didnt want to interrogate Edward, to rummage through dirty laundry. Whatever would be, would be. He wouldnt leave the family, knowing I was pregnant.
But the unthinkable happened. The ambulance whisked me to the hospital, and I emerged without my baby. A miscarriage, the doctor blamed on the stress Id endured. He was right; I felt like a naked live wire.
Edwards hands loosened. He soon left for that businesswoman, who was, Id say, quite spirited.
Ethel and I were left alone, grieving endlessly. The ground seemed to give way beneath us; the world swayed. Life felt unbearable. If it werent for Ethel, I would have said goodbye to it all.
But I imagined Ethel suffering alone, her fragile young heart broken. I could not let that happen. Thanks to my daughter, I did not surrender to sin. Ethel, seeing my sorrow, stayed by my side. We grew incredibly close during those dark days.
Eventually Ethels nighttime wanderings ceased; she fell quiet, knowing she had to save her mother. I had to relearn how to live, breathe, speak to people again.
Two years later my exhusband Victor appeared. I could not look at him; he repulsed me. He had caused too much pain to Ethel and me. Such cruelty is unforgivable.
I let the wayward husband back into the house, wondering what he might say, what he might offer. By then only Ethel bound us together. Everything else had slipped away like water through sand, leaving no trace.
We stood silent, strangers to one another.
How are you getting on, Martha? Victor asked, foolishly.
Whats it to you? Why bring up the past now? Miss me? I retorted with a shrug.
Is Ethel at home? he seemed to hope for support from our daughter.
Ethel reluctantly left her room, crossed her arms, and stared at him with disdain.
Ethel, sweetheart, forgive me, please! Victor pleaded pitifully.
Forget you ever had a daughter! Ethel muttered, retreating to her room.
Shall I repeat that? I teased him.
Victor left.
Our mutual acquaintances later told me that the woman who had stolen Victors business had left him penniless, which is why he kept turning up at our door, hoping for forgiveness.
Three years passed. Ethel was at university, I worked for a large firm. Life was calm and comfortable, free of passion and turmoil a perfect lull.
I began dreaming again, planning to marry Ethel off to a good man and waiting for my retirement. I thought of buying a kitten or a puppy and caring for it tenderly. What more could I need for happiness? I was thirtyseven then.
Fate, however, smiled on me.
Delegations from Turkey often visited our company, and one Turkish representative, Farid, began to give me unmistakable attention. He bombarded me with compliments, offered me tea, and surrounded me with such charm that I felt swooned. I was drawn to this unconventional Turk cultured, devilishly handsome, and exceedingly courteous. Before long we were married.
Farid won over my parents. At first they were shocked by a foreign soninlaw, but his Turkish feasts, witty jokes, and invitations to Ankara won them over, and they blessed our union.
My daughters blessing was equally vital. I was about to move to his homeland. Ethel, watching her mother radiant and in love, gladly gave her consent.
Mother and Farid, may you be happy forever!
In time, Ethel forgave her errant father and even invited him to her own wedding
