In Sickness and in Health
Ellen lost her husband early, at forty-two. By then, her daughter, Grace, had already married a decent lad from the next village and moved off with him up north, hoping to earn some proper money.
Grace called her mother occasionally, asking Ellen not to worry, assuring her everything was just fine: friends, work, new in-laws. But each time, Ellen felt her daughter drifting farther awayshe was no longer her little girl, but an independent person in her own right.
There was no work for Ellen in their rural village; the only school, where shed been a kitchen assistant, had closed.
Still, Ellen did not despair. She started taking the bus to the next village twice a week, selling her fresh milk and homemade cheese to a handful of loyal customers.
The money she made just about covered her modest needs, and Ellen couldnt really complain. She lived alone and ate quite happily from the same milk and cheese she sold, along with vegetables from her garden.
Loneliness never had much chance to take root. Her yard was a bustle of chickens, geese, and ducks; in the shed her cow, Daisy, would call for her, and at her feet would twine her cat, Buttercup. By the time Ellen had attended to every creaturefeeding, cleaning, fetching grainthe day was already done.
One quiet hour each afternoon, usually after lunch, Ellen would go to the window, perch on her little stool, and gaze at the countryside beyond.
And there was much to see: delicate silver birches, and behind them a bubbling spring welling up from the earth. The water was as cold and clear as anything, filling a small pond that sparkled in the sun.
No wonder, then, that one morning Ellen was woken by the noise of heavy vehicles pulling up to her gate.
Yawning, she wrapped herself in her mothers faded flannel dressing gown and stepped outside.
She craned her neck to see a small crowd surveying the land. She approached a tall, well-dressed man in a smart coat:
Morning. Do you mind me asking whats going on here?
The man turned to her, glanced at her cottage, and replied, You live here, then? I bought the land next door. Planning to build a house here. Looks like well be neighbours.
Neighbours, you say?
Ellen went back inside, rattled. She needed to find out more about this new neighbour, so she got dressed quickly and headed to the village shop.
The shopkeeper, chatty Janet, knew all the village news. She explained that a wealthy businessman had bought the plot near Ellens.
Wants to build a home for his twin brother, apparently the poor chaps been poorly, and the doctors have suggested country air will do him good. Cant blame them, reallylovely woods, pure air, plenty of springs with healing water.
A businessman? Ellen mused. Well, perhaps well get a shop out of itor at least some new jobs. Never hurts for folks to have work.
Janet laughed. Dream on, Ellen!
As Ellen left, she bumped into Graham, the bread delivery man, balancing a big tray of loaves.
Morning, Ellen, would you mind holding the door for me? he asked.
Of course, Graham, she smiled, propping open the door.
He paused and gave her a look. Wheres the fire? Fancy a warm roll? Just out the oven.
Ellen blushed and took a loaf, calling back, Janet, pop it on my tab; Ill pay you later!
There was a reason for that blush. Graham had been courting Ellen for a few years. But Ellen dodged his attentions as if hed burn her. He was six years younger, and the local gossips had whispered that Ellen was too old for him. Shed always told herself he deserved someone his own age.
Still, Graham never married, and he kept looking at Ellen, occasionally making efforts to court heruntil shed finally quashed any hope between them.
***
The construction didnt take long.
A fine brick house soon rose in the field. When Ellen saw the lights on one evening, she gathered her courage and baked an apple pie to offer as a gesture of welcome.
She stepped up to the shiny new door and called, Hello, neighbours! Good day to you!
She was met with the smell of fresh timber and paint. Standing on the threshold with her pie, she hesitated.
Two men and a couple of women in overalls peered out.
Yes? Can we help you?
OhI live next door, there in the cottage. I brought a pie to welcome you all.
One of the women smiled and took the tray. Thanks.
Ellen ventured further: I was wondering if there might be a bit of work going here while youre finishing up? I can hang wallpaper, do a bit of plastering, freshen up the ceilings?
A builder shook his head. No need, thanks. Weve a full crew for the inside. Best ask the master of the househell be along in a couple of days.
Ah, I see, Ellen said, deflated.
The job never materialised.
She trudged home, disappointed, and surveyed her shabby old cottage. It needed workand, really, probably more than just a facelift. It was slowly falling to bits and growing moss, but Ellen was more stung by the sense that her new neighbours didnt need or want her.
It wasnt like before, she thought. People used to go out of their way to meet new neighbours, offer help, or at least a greeting. Here, she hadnt seen the owner once; hed made no effort to get to know her.
***
But things changed soon enough. It started with Christmas lights twinkling on the new house, and, soon after, the new occupants moved in.
Ellen watched from her window as removal vans pulled in, offloading furniture and boxes.
From one car stepped a young woman in a pale fur coat, striding confidently into the house.
Just look at her, Ellen thought. Beauty queen, no doubt. What else would you expect, with a businessmans house?
She never caught sight of the owners brotherthe one Janet had mentioned, the supposed invalid. The young woman would venture out to the shop once a week, but never lingered.
Ellen always greeted her, tried to make conversation, but the neighbour offered only strained hellos and hurried past with eyes averted.
Too high-and-mighty for the likes of me, Ellen thought sadly, giving up on any friendship.
A year passed. Ellen no longer tried to be friendly, and ignored the comings and goings across the lane. Once a week a posh car would pull up; a distinguished man would carry bags inside.
Then, one day, everything changed.
There was a knock at Ellens door; it was the young neighbour.
I noticed you have a cow, hens, all sorts. Would you mind selling me some meat? Im happy to pay. Also, Id love some butter, cream, and potatoes, if you have them.
Ellen rallied, invited her guest in, and began rummaging in her larder.
The shop meat isnt the same, nor is the cream, the young woman explained.
Of course, Ellen replied, and reached for a pack of beef in the freezer from her last butchering.
Its good meat, freshyou wont have to stew it long.
How long do you cook it? the neighbour asked quietly.
About an hour and a half.
That long?
Oh, my dear, thats nothing! Some cuts take longer. Youre not familiar with beef, then? No matterIll help you.
And what if I just fry it? Im afraid Ill burn it. Could you cook it for me here? With potatoes? I could pick up a finished meal from you.”
Ellen looked her overso young, her hands delicate, nails painted. She guessed the woman had never lifted a saucepan.
Do you know how to cook at all, love? Ellen asked, not unkindly.
Of course not, she replied with a shrug.
Whats your name?
Chloe. And yours?
Ellen. You can call me Nell, if youd like. I could make dinners and tea for you, for a bit of a fee?
Id be grateful for it! When could you start?
Why not now?
So, Ellen bundled up the ingredients, bolted her door, and off they went.
The neighbours house was grandtasteful, freshly fitted out with brand new furniture. In the lounge, a dour man was reading, scowling at the intrusion.
Whos this? Something wrong?
Ellen looked him over. Shed expected a younger man, Chloes age, but instead saw a fellow in his mid-forties.
Chloe was all sweetness. Darling, Ive found help for usthis is Ellen, our new cook.
Ellen corrected her gently. Im your neighbour, actually. Just over the way. Pleased to meet you.
He grunted, uninterested.
Come on, then, Chloe said, switching to the familiar you.
She showed Ellen the kitchen and said, Could you make us something to eat?
The casualness made Ellen blink, but she set about her work, unpacked the ingredients, washed up, and got cracking. A little over an hour later, she served up a proper meal of stewed beef and potatoes.
Her employment, such as it was, began. The owner, taciturn Mr. Michael Smith, paid her weekly. Over time, he thawed a bitgood food works wonders.
But Ellen soon noticed that Chloe never tidied up. Beds went unmade, the floors remained unswept.
Ellen took out a bucket and mop and cleaned the whole house herself.
Chloe pouted, and Mr. Smith looked disapprovingly at her.
Who told you to clean? he asked.
It was filthyjust couldnt bear to see it. I thought Id tidy a bit.
Im not paying for unnecessary flourishes. Dust never bothered us! I pay you for your cooking. And whatever groceries, too, of course.
Ellen, a bit hurt, still finished the job. Soon she noticed the businessman brother stopped coming, and Chloe no longer ventured out, sometimes glaring at Ellen resentfully.
One day, Chloe snapped: Leave the washing up. Ill do it. And dont bring any more meatwell stick to eggs, milk, and potatoes. Cook only with those.
Ellen asked gently, Has something happened?
Something? Im sick of this countryside! No shops, no cafesabsolutely nothing to do!
A few days later, Ellen knocked as usual and found the door unlocked. Inside was chaos: trinkets strewn about, a toppled bookshelf, books heaped on the floor.
Oh, whats happened here Chloe? Ellen called.
No Chloe here, came a voice from the kitchen.
She found Michael surrounded by empty bottles, the kitchen and lounge a mess.
Whats happened, Mr. Smith? Did you and Chloe quarrel?
Dont mention her name. Chloes goneleft me with a note, said country life wasnt for her.
He caught Ellens eye.
Nell, can you bring some beef? I could do with some fried up, like you used to make.
Ellen obliged, fetched some from home, and cooked him a meal. While it simmered, she tidied up.
The warm aroma roused Michael, who staggered to the stove and began eating straight from the pan.
You shouldnt eat from the knife, Mr. Smith. Sit, pleaseIll serve you properly.
He sighed, sitting at the table.
Youre wonderful, Nell. I adore you.
Ellen froze. It had been so long since anyone had said such things to her.
Dont leave me. Have a drink with me.
I dont drink, she replied.
Michael was clearly drunk; she thought it best to go, but he clung to her.
I never noticed what an interesting woman you are, Ellen.
***
Neighbours and Friends
After that, Ellen found herself the topic of gossip at the shop. Folks muttered, but didnt ask outright. Only Janet the shopkeeper smiled slyly.
Nell, who are you buying fags for? And sausageyou never eat sausage.
For the neighbourwho else? I told you, I work for him, Ellen replied.
Janet leaned over and whispered, And since when do you sleep at his place and eat at his table? Oh Nell, youre playing with fire! Hell just amuse himself and toss you aside.
Ellen bridled, holding back her temper.
Listen, you havent been spying on me, have you?
Janet snorted, The whole village is talking.
Ellen drew herself up.
Is that so? Well, let them talk. Yes, Michael and I have something together. Were in love.
Janet gave her the look. Is it love? Chloe only just left, and this ladies mans after you? Wake up, Nell! Do you really believe him?
Ellen stiffened, grabbing her change.
Are you done? Give me my changeand be quick about it, or Ill put in a complaint.
Outside, fury burned in her. How small-minded people can beall they do is gossip!
As she left, she nearly tripped into Graham bringing in another bread tray. This time, she didnt help with the door and he didnt ask; he grunted and slipped inside.
Hmph, she thought. Doesnt even say hello now. Let him be.
But it hurt a little.
She remembered how Graham had blushed before, how her heart had soared at his glances. But now he didnt even look her way. That silence was painful.
***
By then, Ellen was spending more and more time at Michaels. He promised that after the wedding she would have a say in the new house. Sometimes shed duck home in the mornings to tend her animals and feed Daisy the cow, but it was only temporary, he said; after the wedding, theyd build a proper animal shed on his land.
Michael kept his word. On the appointed day, he called a taxi and whisked Nell off to be married at the registry office.
He slipped a ring on her finger.
How lovely. Is it gold?
Of course. Be careful not to lose it.
After the wedding, Ellen set out a table of food; Michael promptly started drinking.
Arent you drinking a bit much? Ellen cooed, admiring her ring.
Im celebrating. Now, bring me some meatfry it up. Need something proper to nibble with the drink.
Theres none left; Ive made a salad
What do you mean, none? Theres a cow mooing in your shed.
Thats Daisy! My milk-cowyou cant. I sell her milk, thats how I get by.
Michael scowled.
Forget those pennies. You have me nowa husband with money! You cook chicken every day, but I want beef.
But to butcher Daisy will take a whole day
But Michael banged his fist on the table.
Did I stutter? I want meat!
***
Sacrifices
Ellen searched the whole village for a butcher, but none would help. Small wonderit was a bitterly cold winter, and the job would be long.
At last, Graham agreed.
He eyed her. Why are you getting rid of the cow?
She looked down, ashamedshed never admit her husband just wanted steak for tea.
Oh, its just too tough to keep her nowfeeds expensive.
But youre married nowdoesnt he help with hay?
Ellen sighed. Will you help, or not?
Alright. Ill come round in an hour.
Ellen went home, stoked the fire, and set water to heat.
Her husband, meanwhile, did not so much as look outside or ask if she needed help.
As Daisy gazed at her, gentle and trusting, Ellen felt her heart break.
An hour later, it was over. Graham helped prepare the meat, and Ellen lugged it indoors.
Why didnt your man come to help? Graham asked, cross.
Hes a city blokenot used to country work.
Ellen pressed a basin of meat into Grahams hands. Take ityouve helped me enough. Thank you.
Thats a lot.
He looked at herhard-eyed and gentle all at once. Ellen stilled, feeling a strange tension.
Just then, Michael stumbled out drunkenly, bellowing, Wife! Who are you talking to? I want my steak! Hurry upyou owe me a wedding night!
Graham scowled.
You two married, then?
Ellen mustered a smile, blowing on her cold hands. Yes.
Graham tossed the meat into the snow, grabbed his knives, and left.
***
A Daughters Visit
Married life quickly palled. All Michael did was drink and eatmostly beef. He soon learned to cook it himself, tossing meat into a pan through his stupor.
The once-lively yard was empty. Only Buttercup the cat wound about Ellens ankles now.
Im sick of that cat. Throw it out. Let it fend for itself, Michael grumbled.
Then Grace came to visit. She took one look at her drunken stepfathersnoring at the tableand berated her mum.
So this is what you call happily married, Mum?
Oh, dont go on, love. Michaels not a bad man, just stressed from moving herelived all his life in the city, after all. Its hard for him to adjust.
Mum, why are you making excuses? Hes no stranger to a bottle, is he? Youre nothing but a skivvy to him, even though youre his wife.
Look at this beautiful house! I never dreamed Id live so well.
Dont get cross, but lets be honest: this isnt your house. Youre no more mistress here than I am. Youve abandoned your own place for him. What if he throws you out or finds someone younger? Where will you go?
Grace left that very day. Ellen tried to send her off with some meat for her journey, but found the pantry locked.
She roused Michael. Whyve you locked the store? Wheres the key?
He put on a sulky face and asked, Why do you need it?
I want to give Grace some beef.
Lets get one thing straightno giving meat to your kids!
Ellen was stunned.
She found his keys herself, but Grace shook her head and left. No, thank you. I wont be back, Mum. Sorry.
Ellen was left desolate.
By nightfall, Michael was awake and banging his fist on the table again.
Listen. My brother died recently, and the house was in his name. Now his widow inherits it.
Ellen gasped.
She calledtold me to get out.
What now, Michael?
Welldont give an inch, Nell. Have some kids, lock yourself insidefight for your home.
Ellen shook her head. I couldnt.
He poured himself another glass.
Well then, lets move back to yours. Well gut this placetake everything, even the light bulbs. Get that butcher of yours to help with the furniture.
Ellen recoiled.
So you married me just for a place to live?
Michael just grinned. Nell, youre no spring chicken. You should know how the world works.
You never loved me.
Nor you, me. You wanted this house, didnt you?
He finished the last of the beef and fetched another bottle.
Ellen could hardly believe him. She remembered Daisyher faithful providernow gone.
In that moment, she decided to leave him, to file for divorce.
Why stay with a man who barely saw her as more than a housemaidand nothing else?
She grabbed the store key, intending to take as much as she could and leave.
But when she opened the larder, it was nearly empty. Michael, she realised, had traded away all the beefno doubt in exchange for more drink.
All that meat would have seen us through the year What will you live on now?
He just smiled: Ive got you, havent I? Youll think of something.
She snapped: To hell with you, Michael. Im off to file for divorce today.
***
Aftermath
Ellens divorce was blessedly straightforward, but Michael came up with a new planhe tried to take over her own cottage.
One night, he broke in, sneaking silently through the house and clambering into her bed.
She woke with a start.
Heavenswhos there?
Dont shout, Nellits just me, your Michael.
Dont touch me!
She scrambled from bed and ran, barefoot, through the snow to Janets house, hammering at the window.
Janet appeared on the porch, perplexed.
Its just meEllen. Please, Janet, let me in.
What on earthfire or something?
Worsemy ex-husband. Dont let him in!
For weeks, Ellen hid with Janet until Michael returned to the city. But even after, she worried he would come back.
Her own house greeted her with emptiness: the cupboards and cellar cleared out, potatoes and preserves all gone.
Ellen sat at the table, surrounded by dirty plates and bottles, head in her hands.
So much for marriage, she thought. No animals leftnot even the cow. What am I supposed to live on?
The door creaked and in came Graham, holding Buttercup the cat.
Nell, I had a word with Michaeltold him to clear off, and brought back your cat. Hes a good mousercaught one every day at mine.
Ellen clutched the cat and broke down in tears.
Oh, Graham, thank you.
He asked gently, Are you upset I chased him off? He was selling your firewood round the village for a song.
Thank you, Graham. For everything. And forgive me, for being so proud
Sit by the fire. Mums started the bathhouse and baked some piesIll take you home with us for a bit. Theres no need to sit in a cold house alone.
***
In time, Graham and Ellen married. Grace forgave her mother and visited with her own husband.
Michael moved to the city, rumour had it he married a widowed barmaid.
The summer guest in the big house next door turned out to be the late businessmans widow, and she proved to be genuinely kind.
On arriving, she brought over a pie for Ellen, and the two became friends.
Ellen once asked about Michaels supposed illness.
Oh, Michael? Ill? Not a chance. Hes perfectly healthyjust a wretched drunk. My late husband took pity on him, let him live here, hoping a bit of country life might straighten him outbut some people never change.
Reflecting on all that happened, I realise now the importance of valuing oneself, of kindness, and not settling for less simply out of loneliness. Theres a big difference between being alone and being with those who only take; much better to seek out true companionship, even if it starts with fresh bread, a kind word, or a loyal cat at your feet.
