AN EXTRAORDINARY LIFE
At my friend Jennys wedding, we ended up celebrating for two days straightplenty of drinks, delicious food, and true joy. The groom was a real heartthrob; he looked like a British movie star, the kind you used to spot in an old black and white film, and was surprisingly modest for someone that handsome. All of us wedding guests found ourselves sneaking looks at David: those bright cornflower-blue eyes, ridiculously thick and long black lashes that would make any woman jealous (honestly, why do men get those, is it just luck of the draw?), a proper strong jaw, a straight nose, and flawless olive-tinged skin. Add to this his heightalmost two metresand broad, solid shoulders, and youll understand why, if we hadnt loved Jenny so much, we probably wouldve started fighting over him right there at the bridal table. David was, in a word, fit.
So, where on earth did you find such a catch? we cornered Jenny, each of us putting on our best, most tragic, and lonely facesjust in case David had any equally attractive, single relatives about.
But Jenny just smiled sheepishly. Oh, girls, honestly! I fell for David because hes just so genuine. He grew up in a little village, raised by his gran, good with his hands, really practical. We met by chance when my parents bought a little place out near his village. Hes sensitive, kind, and reliableruns a tight ship, he does! A proper man, truly! It took me ages to convince him to move to London, she laughed. You have no idea how many nights I spent persuading him!
Turned out, David was a quick studynot only did he win over Jennys family with his easy manners, but within a couple of years, hed become an expert on fine whisky, cologne, politics, art, travel, the FTSE, and sport; he even ditched his thick Norfolk accent. He took to driving the car Jennys dad kindly handed them down, and landed a really decent job with his new father-in-law. As for who gave them the flat, well, you can guess that bit.
By their second year married, Jenny started noticing Davids odd obsession with white socks. Hed only wear fresh, dazzling-white socks everywherearound the house, visiting friends, even in his wellies, and stood boldly on grubby carpets in trial rooms with nothing but those white socks.
Jenny didnt really understand what the fuss was aboutshe just went along quietly, washed the floors twice a day, and bought every bleach in Sainsburys. The whole white-socks thing became such a feature that David earned the nickname Sock.
It was when Jenny was eight months pregnant that she found out David had a mistress. And, believe it or not, the other woman was just as far along.
Sock was promptly kicked out, sacked, disowned, and thoroughly cried overall in the space of 24 hours. Then life settled into the sticky, grey routine of a miserable autumn. Jenny spent most days lying on their now-massive bed, staring up at the ceiling with dry eyes.
Ill cry later, shed whisper. Its bad for the baby right now.
Jenny lay there like a silent martyr while the rest of us stood guard in shifts, making sure she knew she wasnt alone, even if no one said anything out loud.
Part of me wanted to sob, tear up the story of Jennys life and chuck out any pages that hurt so much. But instead, we just waited.
On the day Jenny and baby were discharged, we made such a racketshaking balloons, trying to convince the nurses to sneak us a cup of decent tea, offering to take them away to the countryside for a knees-up, showering everyone with good wishes and hugs. Her dad was the most excited of us all; the night before, rather emotional, hed promised the midwives hed clean up after himself if they let him chalk a huge, wonky THANK YOU FOR MY GRANDSON! just under Jennys ward window. Then hed tried to belt out a tune, and almost got thrown out by hospital security. (Dont worry, the guard ended up sharing a nip of brandy with the proud grandad, away from prying eyes.)
By the time the family left hospital, her dad was beaming, like hed won the lotterymaybe even glowing. He cried tears of pride. Proper tears, the kind you remember.
And, you know, we all cried. Laughed, smothered Jenny in kisses, snuck glances at baby blue bundle, and studiously avoided mentioning the babys straight, Greek nose. But even with all the joy, Jenny didnt shed a single tear.
Later, she promised. In case it upsets the milk, you know?
That was Jenny for the first two monthsstill, quiet, and strong. But one day, she just up and decided to visit David. No fireworks or drama, but she was determined. She wanted to shout, hit the walls with her thin fists, shame him, rage at him, and try to claw all that binding, suffocating pain off her chestdumping it all on the man whod smashed her hopes and their world together, leaving her and her little boy. Shed imagined quiet evenings full of knitting socks for both of them, toddler giggles, family walks, Davids familiar presenceand it was all gone.
She also really wanted to look that other woman straight in the eyethe one whod taken her husbandand, if need be, spit in her face. If the situation called for it, maybe even scratch her eyes out. Shed made up her mind.
Jenny found out the exact address by accidenthelpful little old ladies at the block of flats kindly stopped her with the sort of concern only British nanas can muster, letting her know what a rotter David was, sketching out the quickest way to his lovers flat and offering a few choice ideas for payback.
So, there she was, standing in front of the right door of a tatty council building, knowing all she had to do was climb up to the fifth floor and she could rant or cry.
On the first floor, Jenny thought that with her luck, no one would be home and she was just wasting her time. By the second, she realised she actually hoped no one was in. On the third, she heard the desperate wail of a baby coming from the fifth.
A skinny, red-eyed girl opened the doornothing like what Jenny had imagined Davids seductress would look like. While Jenny stared, speechless, the baby kept screaming somewhere inside.
Hello, Jenny. Davids not here. He left us two weeks ago. I dont know where he is, the girl muttered, then slumped on the floor and started sobbing.
Suddenly, Jenny didnt feel like making a scene. She wanted to go inside, settle that poor, hungry baby, and then say with a bit of edge, If you want to play grown-up games, you have to deal with the fallout, love. And shed say it with the most withering look she could manageshe figured shed earned that right.
The baby was clean, but his eyelids were swollen, his little forehead veined, and he was hoarse. Clearly, he was starving. The girlher name was Tessajust lay on the hallway floor, howling.
Jenny barely remembered how she rummaged through empty kitchen cupboards and a barren fridge for formula. Shed found a scrap of paper on the kitchen table with a desperate, half-written note: Please forgive me for what Im about to
Tessa cried, like she was talking to her oldest friend, that she had nowhere else to goher lease was up in days, her milk was gone, David was gone, and shed never really had money anyway. She was sorry, so sorry, and ashamedtoo late now, and begging forgiveness. Jenny could slap her if she wanted, maybe she should. The baby was called Paul, and Jenny should remember that. Paul was just nine days older than little George.
Jenny basically ran home after thatshe had only twenty minutes before George would wake up hungry. Tessa ran alongside, carrying Paul, now finally quiet. Jenny dashed ahead, already thinking about where she could fit two more beds.
Three years later, we were celebrating Tessas wedding, and the year after, it was Jennys turn. Jennys husband cant stand white socksreckons lifes colourful enough to need more brightness, and absolutely adores his wife, son, and two daughters. As for Tessashes now mum to four boys, and her husbands still wishing for a little girl one day…
