Ugly Gillian
Oh, for goodness sake, is that really a man? Looks more like a mishap to me! Surely Gillian can see for herself what sort of chap shes marrying? Short, scrawny, and as ugly as sin!
Oh, come off it, thats a bit much! Hes not exactly tall, I grant you. But theres more to life than looks, isnt there? And lets be honest, Gill isnt a beauty queen herself.
Thats true. But just imagine what their children will end up like! Terrifying!
The young mums, filling the air with idle gossip while tending prams by the building entrance, tucked in their babies snugly, beaming at their own sleeping darlings. How could future children of someone like Gillian hope to compete?
Gillian herself, having just unloaded her fiancés car with groceries for her mum, smiled and nodded to the neighbours, then busied herself.
James, love, is it too heavy for you? Let me take something! She tried to wrestle a bag from his arms, but he wouldnt allow it.
Gilly, darling, you just hold the door open for me! Carrying heavy bags isnt for ladies. I wont have you straining yourself!
The neighbours exchanged glances on the bench.
Listen to him! Heavy lifting isnt for women, he says! Theyre all attentive until the wedding bell rings. Let her marry him, then well see who was right all along!
James and Gillian had already disappeared inside, but the neighbours kept debating their looks, heights, his choice of car, and her awkward walk. Why not? Gossip is as easy as breathing.
Gillian, however, had no time for idle talk. She was hurrying to see her mother after two whole weeks apart. First a work trip, then rushing the renovations with James to finish the new flat before the wedding. Her mum had insisted she take care of herself, not worry, and not visit without good reason. There was plenty in the fridge, the phone worked, and the big day was fast approaching. How could anyone fit everything in?
Yet Gillian couldnt resist. Shed never been away from her mum for so long before. She still hadnt learnt how to handle worry.
Gillian was born when her mother, Marina, was thirty-five. No one in the family, or even among Marinas friends, had ever expected much from hera plain, clumsy, and awkward woman, making ends meet as a cashier in a small corner shop. By thirty-five, everyone counted her as a confirmed spinster. Children? Out of the question.
But then Marina surprised them all: a holiday by the seaside, and she brought back a fiancé. And not just any man, but a stunner, the sort you rarely see. Tall, broad-shouldered, and blue-eyedMarina by his side looked like a timid mouse next to a big, glorious tom in a fancy coat. Hardly a match.
Yet after Alexander entered her life, it was Marina who wore the fancy coats.
He was clever and hard-working, knew not only how to earn money, but save and grow it. He adored his wife and never stinted on her happiness. Marina flourished, rediscovered her sense of style, and quickly showed her fair-weather friends the door.
She never really had close girlfriends. Somehow it just hadnt happened. Shed have liked a inner circle, but women kept their distance. Too plain, they thought. Not fit for their crowd, not someone to take to a party and ruin the mood just by being there.
So when those few friends who turned up now and then for a cuppaonly to ask favours or secure a top spot for rationed goodsstopped visiting, Marina wasnt sorry.
She dreaded gossip. Gossip, she knew, could do more damage than a pistol. You never know when or where itll strike. She understood perfectly well that to many, Alexander wasnt a good match and sure enough, people would urge him to leave heror worse, embellish unpleasant lies. So Marina built her home into a fortress, unwelcoming to anyone but her closest kin. She wasnt about to lose her happiness over idle tongues.
She neednt have worried. Alexander had eyes only for Marina. He understood better than most that beauty is only skin deepwisdom passed down for generations. Having lost his own parents very young and raised by a heavy-drinking grandmother, this truth was written into his bones.
His parents died when he was not yet threehis father slightly tipsy, returning from his best friends wedding, lost his grip and crashed the car on the rainy motorway.
So Alexander was left with his gran, who never recovered from the loss of her only child. She started off just taking the odd sip, and before long was deep in the bottle. By eight, Alexander could cook for himself, iron his school shirtsanything to avoid awkward questions at schooland he tried his best to study well. His good looks were more burden than blessing; he drew attention wherever he went, and the constant stares were hard to shake.
He grew up stubborn and angry. How could it be otherwise? Hed never known affection. To gran, the drink was all that mattered. Around him, people only ever remarked on his appearanceno one asked what it was actually like for him to live in this world.
No one except Mrs. Violet, the bakery lady he passed by every day on the way to get bread. She was raising two boys on her own and knew what it meant to live without a mother, having grown up in care herself. Yet she managed to give her sons a home, warmth, and enough foodfresh bread, fried potatoes, and tea with honey from a friendly neighbours beehives.
Oh, thanks ever so! What do I owe you?
Its from the heart, dear! Youre always good to folklet others return the favour now and then! Dont insult me.
Every day, shed give Alexander a roll with his bread.
Take it for school, shed say, ruffling his curls.
The unearned kindness warmed him. At first he tried to refuse the extra roll, but realised it offended herso instead, he began to thank her sincerely. He helped out in the bakery after school, and before long, Violet was more a mother to him than anyone had been.
Life eventually slotted into place. When Alexander was fifteen, his grandmother diedher heart finally giving out. Without hesitation, Violet took him in.
Youve been my son for a long time. This just makes it official.
Now he had a familymum and brothers. The old anger melted away; there was simply no room for it any longer.
He finished college, got a job, and did up his grans flat. But romance always slipped through his fingers. Girls would happily flirt with him, but the relationships never lasted. The one woman he truly fancied didnt even pretend when she ended things:
No, Alex, love, I cant take you seriously. Youre just too handsome. Youll leave me, for sure, and thats if Im lucky. If we had a child, youd walk off and break both our hearts. If I were you, I wouldnt settle down eitherlook at your options! Youve got your pick!
The old anger flared, but he knew where to go for guidance.
Son, she just wasnt the one. Yours is still out therewaiting for you. Dont lose hope! Faith, my dear, is what makes things happen. Wait and see. Everything will come together.
Violet always knew exactly what to say to calm him down. He decided that waiting was something he could manage, and the rest would come.
Years went by, but the one never turned up. Alexander started to lose heart. Violet intervened once again, insisting he take a holiday:
Oh, Alex! You must see the sea! Its something special.
Whats it like, Mum?
Vast! Gentle. Wild. Always changing. Youll understand when you see it. Go onlet happiness find you there!
That seaside holiday was where he met Marina. Nobody paid any attention to the plain girl standing by the seafront, gazing at the churning waves after a storm. But Alexander was stopped in his tracksshe looked spookily like Violet. Getting to know her, he realised fate had given him the greatest gift since meeting his adopted mum. Marina was bright and kind, overflowing with affection and a yearning to love. Alexander knew instantlythis was it! What hed been searching for, all these years.
And of course, he wasnt about to let her slip away.
Their daughter became the apple of their eyesometimes their love for her frightened even themselves.
I hope we dont spoil her, Alex, fretted Marina. Are we too indulgent?
Well be fine! Alexander would reply, kissing his daughters head. Shes a clever girl!
He believed it with such conviction that little Gill couldnt help striving to make her father proud with her gentle nature and diligence.
She takes after Mum, Violet would say, stroking her granddaughter. Just as kind as Marina. Treasure your girls, sonhappiness is having love in your home!
Alexander remained close to his adopted mum and brothers. So when he began to suspect something was wrong with his health, he told his brothers first, not wanting to worry his wife or mother.
You did the right thing, Alex! Well get it sorted. His brothers never left things to chance.
Within a few days, they found him a doctorwhen the grim diagnosis came, they refused to let him despair.
Dont you dare give up! Youve got a daughter to care forand were here every step of the way! Medicines come a long way.
The battle dragged on for ten long years. Alexander persevered, astounding the doctors with his grit and appetite for life.
To be honest, anyone else wouldve thrown in the towel by now, one said, shaking his head. Youre a fighter.
Alexander would nod, fighting the dizziness, thinking that his strength came from Marina and his Gillian, whod rush to the hospital after school, eager to bring his favourite treats and make sure he ate.
Im not hungry, love, hed protest.
Eat, Dad! The soups over-saltedMum cried while making it. But I told her not to cry, because youll be back home soon! Did I say the right thing?
You did, my darling You said just the right thing
And each time, Alexander came home, despite the darkening predictions. They were waiting for him! How else could he not return?
He slipped quietly awayat home, with his head on Marinas shoulder. He drifted into sleep, never to wake again. She spent the rest of the night by his side, holding him, thinking over their life together.
No, Alex Ive nothing to complain about. We had so much! I was so happy with you. Thank you, my love
In the morning, little Gillian trudged sleepily to her parents room before breakfast, and let out a cry as soft as a trapped skylark.
Hush, my darling. Dads not in pain anymore Hes in a good place now You hear me? Dont cry Marina didnt even try to fight her tears. Im right here
Marina and Gillian werent left alone. Alexanders brothers kept a close watch, and Violet came round often. The family banded together, grieving as oneknowing it would have been impossible to cope alone.
Years went on. Gillian grew up, but every year she found it harder to look at her own reflection. She knew she was plain. There was nothing she could do.
She couldnt make her nose smaller or her eyes bigger. Even carrots, which shed read somewhere could help a girl grow, failed her.
At school, children teased her, and Marina wiped away her daughters tears, whispering in her ear:
Just you watch, my darling, well see who ends up happiest. Wait and see!
Gillian finished school and went to university, but even there, no one seemed to value her quiet spirit or kindness. The boys preferred the bold, pretty girls; as for Gill, they borrowed her notes before examshers were always impeccable, as she never bothered gazing at boys in lectures, knowing full well there was nothing to gain in a group full of girls outnumbering boys two to one.
What are we going to do? sighed Marina, realising her daughter had become an excellent professional, built a career, but hadnt a clue about romance.
I know! Violet beamed. Well send her to the seaside! Worked once for mecould work again! What do you say?
Its an idea! But Gill wont go alone. Shell dig her heels in.
Then we all go. Invite your brothers and their families. All together. Gill will have to escape from the lot of us! Do you remember how she hid in the town centre the last time she came to visit me? Our herd of hooligans would wear anyone out! Shell have to get some fresh air!
Lets do it! Marina nodded firmly.
But fate had other plans.
Gillian did go to the seaside, but absolutely refused to stray far from the family. No amount of persuasion could change her mind.
I dont want to go anywhere on my own! she insisted.
Her relatives could only shrug.
Meanwhile, fate was up to its usual tricks. No sooner had Gillian come home from holiday than she met her destinyright outside the front door, not on some golden beach. Heading home from work, she parked her car and was caught in a proper English downpour.
Waving goodbye to her brand new patent shoes, bought just the day before, she kicked them off and waded barefoot through puddles, hurrying home where she knew her mum would be fretting. And just as she reached her building, a passing car doused her from head to toe with dirty water.
Oh, brilliantjust brilliant! was all she managed to say.
Then she burst out laughing so heartily that the driver, who had stopped to apologise, couldnt help but stare in admiration.
Fate ticked off another completed task, headed off in search of fresh mischief, and was certain that all would be well for Gillian and James.
And so it proved.
A few years later, those same neighbours, watching their now grown-up children from their bench, would start their whispers anew as James pulled up to the house.
Have you seen the coat on that woman? I cant get a thing out of my husband, but shestraight away!
Oh, you again!
That style doesnt suit her, not one bit!
Youre such a grump! Jealousy makes you blind. Why does Gillians happiness trouble you so? Her husband may be plain, but hes kind! Loves her and the children, spoils them all rotten. Youre just sour!
Sour, yes! Why is life arranged so that some people get everything for no reason, and others nothing at all? Just look at themnot a looker between them, yet their children are gorgeous! Why?
Takes after the camel! My mother always said Gills father was a knockout. There you go, genetics in action!
Really? So why is Gillian so cheerful all the time? No matter what you say, she just smiles back. Never snaps, never sends you packing! What sort of person is that? She ought to resent the world for the lack of beauty she was dealt!
She could, but she chooses not to. And if you stopped being so jealous, you might find youre pretty, too!
Oh, whatever! Im talking sense, and youre talking nonsense. How do you get a man to love you like that, carry you about, adore you? Maybe shes got a secret!
Ask her! Maybe shell share!
Id never stoop so lowtaking lessons in living from someone like her!
Suit yourself! Grinding your teeth with envy must be much more satisfying!
As for Gillian, she couldnt care less about what the neighbours said. She had her hands more than full at home: her mum was flagging, Violet was ready to move closer to help with the great-grandchildren, the uncles beckoned them for weekends, James had promised to help with some building work. The children required constant attention.
Charlie, Maisie, into the house! Grannys just brought out the cake from the oven! Its not fair to keep her waiting!
And so another family evening would roll on, with time for a proper chat, a singalong to the guitar, and a bedtime story from Marina for the grandchildren.
And so life would go onOutside, the evening deepened and the lights in the neighbouring flats flickered on, one by one. Laughter drifted from Gillians kitchenchildren cackling, Marinas warm voice scolding playfully, Violet singing an old lullaby while slicing the cake. In the middle of all the bustle, Gillian paused, cake fork in hand, to look around her full and noisy table. James met her eyes and winked, and she grinned back, mouth full of crumbs, feeling suddenly, quietly, impossibly lucky.
She remembered the old spiteful talkers by the door. She remembered childhood teases, the ache of reflections and painted-on grins. Time and again shed heard what she lacked, yet here was everything shed ever truly wanted: the busy warmth of family and the silent, sure recognition in the gaze of the man she loved. The world could gossip all it liked through thin lips and cracked windowsshe had her small kingdom, fortified with laughter and battered teacups and the old photograph of her father smiling on the mantelpiece.
As twilight crept in and little hands grew sticky with jam, Gillian raised her head, chin highunafraid, undisguisedand laid her palms flat on the worn kitchen table, anchoring herself to the riotous, ordinary, beautiful moment.
Alright, everyone, quiet down. Who wants to hear the story of how your granddad first saw the sea?
A hush fell, expectant and sweet. Gillian smileda smile that did not chase beauty or approval or envy, but shone from somewhere truer. Outside, the gossips squabbled; inside, Gillian began her story, weaving love and loss and laughter into gold. And though the children would not remember every word, they would remember her glow, and how it felt: warm, resilient, unbreakable. The sort of happiness that, once found, needed neither permission nor apology to last.
