LIFE, LIKE THE MOON: SOMETIMES FULL, SOMETIMES WANING
I always believed our marriage was steadfast, eternallike the stars scattered across the English night sky. But nothing lasts forever.
I met my future husband at medical school in London, both of us young and ambitious. In our fifth year, we married. As a wedding gift, my mother-in-law presented us with tickets to Venice, and the keys to a spacious flat in Hampstead. But that was only the beginning.
As newlyweds, we settled into our three-bedroom flat. My in-laws, Bernard and Margaret, took great care of us, lending a hand wherever they could. Thanks to their help, my husband and I spent our holidays roaming Western Europe year after year. We were young, happy, and invincible. Thomas was a virologist; I worked as a GP. We lived, worked, healed, and loved. Our two sons, Daniel and Philip, soon followed.
Now, looking back, I see my life then as a wide, flowing river. For a decade, I reveled in comfort and abundance. Then, everything crumbled in a single day.
One afternoon, the bell rang. I opened the door to find a fidgety, strangely withdrawn young woman staring back at me.
Can I help you? I asked calmly.
Are you Sophie? I need to speak to you. May I come in? she replied hesitantly.
I stepped aside, curiosity piqued. Up close, I could see she was noticeably pregnant.
My name’s Pippa. Im ashamed to admit it, but Im in love with your husband. And Thomas loves me, too. Were expecting a baby, she announced, all in a rush.
Excuse me? My irritation prickled just beneath the surface.
Pippa pulled a dainty box from her coat pocket. Please, Sophie, take this. Its for you.
Inside was a gold ring.
What’s this for? I asked icily. Do you think you can buy my husband? Thomas can’t be bought. Take your ring back!
Tears welled in her eyes. Im sorry! I know Ive hurt you. I never meant for this to happen. All my life, my mother warned meFall for a married man, and youll ruin yourself! I know youll suffer, and so will your sons. But I cant live without Thomas. Please, let me leave this with you. It might ease my guilt.
Her sobs grew raw and desperate. For a fleeting moment, I pitied her. But thenwho would pity me? She had stolen my happiness, and I was to comfort her? Snapping out of my daze, I shoved the ring back at her, then showed her the door. From that moment, my world began to unravel.
That evening, Margaret called. Toms leaving, love. Ill come round to pick up his things, she said.
Margaret arrived, suitcase in hand. I indicated the wardrobe, still not believing a word of it. She folded Thomass shirts with care.
No matter what, Sophie, well always be family, said Margaret softly, hugging my sons. But Thomas and his new ladywell, we cant stand in their way.
Within six months, Thomas and Pippa welcomed a daughter. I heard, later, that Thomas had also adopted Pippas child from her first marriage. During this time, he never once visited Daniel or Philip. He sent a pittance via his mother as child support. It was the early 90s, and times were tough.
I suffered a nervous breakdown and was admitted to hospital. The boys went to live with Margaret, who doted on them, spoiling them with treats and laughter. When I emerged from hospital, longing for my boys, I found they refused to come back with me: Gran feeds us well, never scolds us, and lets us have all the chocolate we want, they said. I couldnt argue.
Margaret hugged them tight. Let them stay a while, Sophie. Youll have to sell the flat, after all. Its no place for children during the move. You cant afford it by yourself nowa one-bed will do you fine.
So, not only had I lost my husband, but now, it seemed, my children, too.
After selling the flat, I found myself in a shabby little studio in Hackney. Peeling wallpaper. Leaky pipes. Old wooden floors. The boys stayed with Margaret. I was allowed to visit only on special occasions.
Sophie, dont upset the boys by turning up unexpectedly, Margaret would say. Focus on your own life now, love.
Slowly, a gulf opened between me and my sons. The bond between us faded, year after year. I longed to vanish into my chilly bedsit, to let go of everything. Life lost all flavour.
My grandmother always used to say, Lifes like the moon: sometimes full, sometimes barely a sliver. She was right. It couldnt go on like this. Otherwise, Id lose my mind. I needed to do something reckless, something wild. I was tired of always being the good girl, trampled by everyone. But Id graduated medical school with honours; surely that meant something.
Work sent me to a medical conference in Paris. There I met James, a charming young doctor from Serbia. How we understood one another, Ill never know. Words hardly matteredwe had a whirlwind affair straight out of a romantic novel.
But after ten days, I had to fly home. I didnt want to leave. Those fleeting days with James revived me; I felt alive once more. There were other flings after thata string of brief romances, nothing serious.
Margaret noticed. Youre looking radiant, Sophiea real lady in springtime! she said.
Still, I was alone. My closest friend, Alice, was moving to Greece for good. On her way out, she invited me over. Alice was single, childless, and ready for change.
Well, Sophie, Im marrying a Greek. Ive had enough of English drunks. Time to live like a proper woman, she sniffed.
No need for tears! Life starts at forty, you know, I teased, not quite understanding her sadness.
One thing, though, Sophiemy ex, Arthur, he knows nothing. Perhaps you could meet him? Who knows, maybe youll get on. Take him off my handshes all yours! Alice waved grandly.
What could I do? If fate offered me a leftover groom, why not? I took Arthur in.
Soon, Arthur became my husband. He came with one flawbut, as they say, every silver lining has a cloud. Arthur was a chronic drinker. But love is blindsometimes even to devils in disguise. I convinced myself I couldnt live without him.
So began endless rounds with rehab, doctors, tears. Arthur would say, You want me sober, Sophie, but Im not sure I do.
Yet, it never crossed my mind to leave him! Having a husbandany husbandseemed better than bitter loneliness. Perhaps Id learned from Pippa, whod fought so fiercely for her love. Seven years my struggle continued.
Then, Arthur found work as a mortuary driver. Perhaps facing death daily changed himat least, I got my reward. Arthur returned home, quiet and pensiveand, for once, completely sober.
Alice would sometimes visit from Greece, marvelling: Arthurs not drinking? I dont believe it!
Laughing, Id reply, No refunds or exchanges, Alice!
In time, my sons grew up. Now in their thirties and still single, afraid of marriage after all theyd seen. Thered been attempts, but none lasted. I doubt Ill ever have grandchildren.
As for Thomas? His second wife, Pippa, drank herself into oblivion. Their daughter raises a child alone now. Thomas married for a third timehis surgery nurse, no less. Before he did, he politely asked our sons, Do you think your mother would like to start over?
My answer, as resolute as ever: Only when pigs fly! Meaningnever, in this lifetime.
