WE ALL JUDGED HER
Emily was standing in the church, weeping quietly. Shed been there for about fifteen minutes already. Ill admit, it was a surprise to see her. What on earth is this prima donna doing here? I thought to myself. Of all people, I never expected to see her in such a place.
Emily and I arent personally acquainted, but Ive seen her about the neighbourhood often. We live in the same block of flats and frequent the same park. Im usually trudging through puddles and mud after my four children, while she strolls along gracefully with her three dogs.
We all judged her, really. By we, I mean myself, the other mums with their broods, the pensioners on benches, neighbours, and I suspect, even the random passers-by.
She was undeniably beautifulalways immaculately dressed and seemingly carefree, filled with a kind of self-assuredness that bordered on cockiness.
There she goes again, another new bloke on her arm, muttered Old Nora from her perch by the entrance.
Thats the third fellow this year.
She can afford it, mind you, rolling in it, grumbled her friend Maureen, shooting a jealous look as Emily, this time with yet another chap, slid into her flashy foreign car.
Meanwhile, Maureens son, Nigelalready 45hadnt even managed to save enough for a second-hand Fiesta.
Shed be better off having children, at her age. Her clocks ticking, called out Old Bert, usually the odd man out amongst the bench sitters, but when it came to disapproving of Emily, they were united.
Later, the whole lot would gleefully discuss how yet another of Emilys gentleman friends had cleared off. The verdict: What else do you expect? Shes a trollop! Bet her flat reeks of dog, too!
But it was we mums who really couldnt stand her. While we ran ourselves ragged after our wild offspringclambering up slides, chasing through hedges and roundabouts, scraping mud from their kneesshe would glide through the park with her mongrels, barely giving us a glance. Sometimes shed even smirk in our direction. It seemed to say, You lot made your bed. Im living for myself. You’re the ones fretting about whether youve enough for Marys coat this winter, or if new shoes can wait another term.
Classic child-free, said my friend Alice, mother to three energetic boys.
The rich have their odditiespoodles, Persian cats, hamsters, nodded Lucy, who was pregnant with twins and currently coaxing her eldest down from a tree.
Just selfish, reallytravelling abroad all the time, not wanting to bother with kids. I havent seen the sea in seven years, sighed five-children Sharon.
Yes, yes, absolutely, Id agree, nodding along with everyoneeven the gossipy granniesand then rush off to comfort my shrieking daughter Rosie, whod just scraped her knee.
Shes turned the place into a dog kennelshed be better off with a child, one grandmother declared loudly one afternoon, grandson in tow.
None of your business! Emily shot back, spinning round. She looked like she wanted to say more but bit her tongue and strode off, her pesky dogs bounding beside her.
Rude, that one, called the old lady at her retreating back.
I watched Emilys shoulders shake as she cried in that church, then turned to leave.
Excuse meplease, wait! I heard behind me.
Emily came hurrying into the churchyard.
Youre the one with four girls, right? I see you in the park all the time.
Thats me you walk your three dogs?
Yes. Iwell, may I talk to you? You know, I always watch you with your daughters, all the mums, really, andI just think its lovely. She blushed, to my astonishment.
You?! I managed, not quite hiding my disbelief. I almost blurted out, But youre the selfish, childless snob! I remembered all those glances Id misread.
So we sat together on a bench. Emily started talkingand crying. I realised she just needed someone to listen.
Emily grew up in a warm, close-knit family, always longing for children herself. She married for love, but after two miscarriages and the blunt diagnosis of infertility, her beloved husband disappeared not long after.
The second marriage ended for the same reason, but only after years of trying for a baby. That time she barely made it through a dangerous ectopic pregnancy.
There was another mana thirdwho left as soon as she mentioned children. It turned out, he was more interested in her car and her salary than a family.
I would have given anything for a child, she said, wiping her eyes.
I thought you loved dogs? I offered, hopelessly awkward.
She smiled through her tears. I do, but it doesnt mean I dont love children.
To stave off loneliness, shed brought home Teacake. Mike the terrier had come to stay temporarily when friends moved flats, and never left. Fen, shed rescued on a snowy night as a freezing pup.
Shes turned her flat into a kennelshed be better off with a child, I remembered the words of that grandmother.
The clocks ticking murmured Old Berts voice in my memory.
Emily was forty-one, though she looked barely thirty.
She decided to adopt a child. Small or bigit made no difference. She particularly loved little Charlie, six, from the childrens home. Actually, it was Charlie who chose her: Will you be my mummy? he asked. Of course, love! she answered.
But they wouldnt let me have himhis mum, although unwell, still had legal rights. It was crushing. Here was a child who needed a home, and nothing to be done, Emily recalled.
Next was four-year-old Lucy. Twice adopted and returned for being too much of a handful. Someone told a story about how the second mum dragged her back, Lucy crawling on her knees, clinging to her skirt, begging, Mummy, please dont send me back! Ill be good!
When Emily met Lucy, the question came straightaway: Are you going to send me back too?
I wont, Emily managed through tears.
But there were hurdles with Lucys adoption, too. Emily didnt go into detail. Shes my daughterwhatever it takes, Ill fight for her.
That day in church was Emilys first time ever. I just had nowhere left to go, she said.
When the vicar appeared, she went over, and I heard bits of their hushed conversation. At the end, he smiled and said, Itll be alright. God bless.
On the way home, Emily said, You probably think Im stuck-upfull of myself. Im just tired. Tired of explaining. Ive heard it all before.
I kept silent.
Emily invited the girls and me over sometime to play with her dogs. I said Id like that. And I meant itbut perhaps later.
For now, I just felt deeply ashamed.
And I keep asking myself, Why are we so quick to think the worst of peopleof her, of anyone? Why do I?
Now, I genuinely hope everything works out for Emilythe woman we all judged. I wish for the day Lucy hugs her, clings to her, and says, Mummy! and knows shell never be sent away again. And that those lovely, loyal dogsTeacake, Mike, and Fenwill always be leaping joyfully nearby.
Perhaps, one day, Emily will find a good husband, and Lucy might even get a brother or sister. Such miracles do happen.
But, most of all, I hope that no one ever says an unkind word to them again.
Today, Ive learned that kindness and open hearts matter so much more than idle judgement. If only Id understood this sooner.
