Read Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary Page 2

golden liquid already causing a slight frosting of condensation on the outside of the glass. I felt the tears trickle silently down my cheeks as I thought of the carefree years I’d never allowed myself to have.

  “Mum?”

  “It’s OK. I’m just thinking.“

  “Take your time.”

  “I will. I have all the time in the world now, don’t I?” But suddenly, I had a compulsion to talk. I took my first, cool, delicious sip of wine. “I’m sure you realise that Dad and I didn’t have the most exciting relationship. In fact, we didn’t really communicate at all, just existed in our separate little boxes. So you probably can’t understand why I’m so upset. But that’s all part of it. I feel cheated, of all the excitement I could have had. I chose him because I thought he would be reliable, and that I could give you the stability I didn’t have, and now he’s gone anyway. I can’t seem to get anything right.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Mum. You tried.” I looked at my gentle son and saw the gulf between our ages and our expectations.

  “That’s not much consolation, Mark. I tried and I failed, and now I have nothing.” They both looked uncomfortable. Perhaps they could see the reality of my situation after all.

  “Mum”, Kimberley said, “You talk about the stability. What did you mean, exactly?”

  “Well, you know my Dad died in action in the Korean war, when I was tiny?”

  “Yeah, you told us that.”

  “I also had a baby sister, and she died suddenly just afterwards. They’d call it a cot death now. So it was just me and my mum, for years, and it was very quiet and sad, but at least we had each other. Then Mum hooked up with Stan, and I was out in the cold.”

  “And you didn’t like Stan.”

  “I hated him. I didn’t trust him, and I knew that he wanted me out of the way.”

  “Is that why you got married so early?

  “Probably. At least partly. I wanted to get out of that house. I thought if I was married, I would have more control over my own life. But that didn’t work either, because the other reason I got married so early was because I was pregnant.”

  “Oh”, Kimberley said quietly. “So that explains the excessive birth control talks you used to give me.”

  “I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes as me.”

  “So I was a mistake.”

  “I didn’t say that. That baby wasn’t you. We got married in a hurry, and then I lost the baby anyway. That was just the beginning of everything happening to me however hard I tried."

  “Did you ever love Dad?”

  “Love’s a funny word, isn’t it, Mark? We were used to each other. I don’t know if I was ever really in love with him. So that ought to make it easier losing him, shouldn’t it? I think what really hurts is that I thought he was solid and dependable and it turns out that he is just as capable of having a mid-life crisis as anyone else.”

  “Perhaps that’s why, Mum.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if he’d had time to give it hell when he was younger, maybe he’d be happier to be settled now. But he felt cheated, just like you. He needed to break loose.” Mark looked at me with sadness and I suddenly realised how trapped Robert must have felt when he saw the easy freedom of his son’s life. I felt a twinge of guilt.

  “I never thought about it like that. I didn’t think people changed. Are you saying I should have gone for a racier sort of man?”

  “Not really. You just should have given yourselves more time to grow up before you settled down.”

  “Huh.” Kimberley snorted with laughter. “Well, you’ve certainly followed that advice to the letter. Thirty-five and still on your Gap Year.”

  Mark smiled lazily. “So what if I am? I pay my way. I work and I travel. I’m not hurting anyone, am I? And I enjoy myself. Who’s to say that everyone has to follow the same pattern? Life has changed.”

  I looked at my son carefully and I suddenly realised how right he was. I‘d spent so many sleepless nights worrying about Mark and his inability to settle down, and yet now I finally saw his point. So what? Why did it matter? He had plenty of girlfriends. He wasn’t a loser or a loner. He just didn’t want to settle down. Why should that bother me? What is it about parents that they feel the need to dot the i’s and cross the t’s for their children well into adulthood.

  “Kimberly, darling. He has a point. And remember, you might be very settled now, but it hasn’t always been plain sailing, has it?”

  Kimberley narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  As if she didn’t remember. “You showed such promise at school. And then…” I faltered, not wanting to rake over the ashes.

  Mark helped me out. “Where shall we start? Dropping out of A levels to go and live with the older man, who just happened to be a drug-dealer.”

  “And living in those awful squats for so long. We were worried to death. We thought we’d never see you again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mum.” She smiled ruefully. I never meant to hurt you. But I was young. I wanted to be me, and not the person you wanted me to be.”

  “And I just wanted you to be happier than I’d been.”

  “Still, I came good, didn’t I, Mum?”

  “Yes, darling.” I smiled.

  “I don’t know,” Mark answered. “I think I preferred the old unreliable you. You’ve turned into a complete Stepford Wife now. Whatever happened to feminism?”

  “It’s post-feminism now, in case you hadn’t noticed. Women have a right to express their femininity.”

  “Of course they do,” he replied, taking in her perfect haircut, immaculate summer dress and killer heels. “Where are the sprogs, anyway?”

  “They’re at nursery, of course, idiot.”

  “Children, children,” I said, not wanting to be transported back to the years of teenage arguments. “I thought we were supposed to be talking about me.”

  “Sorry,” they muttered in unison.

  “So, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, Mum,” Kimberley said quickly, “I think what you’re saying is that however hard you tried, things didn’t go to plan. But, that’s life, Mum. Maybe you tried too hard. Whatever you do in life, Shit happens.”

  “Please don’t say that,” I cut in quickly.

  “But it’s true.”

  “I don’t mean that. I just hate to hear you using those words. They’re horrible.”

  “Maybe they are, but they’re accurate.”

  As usual, she was right.

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Don’t try to plan everything. Live your life and see what happens. Try new things. It’s not too late. You said you felt cheated. Well, go and reclaim your life. And if things go wrong, learn from them, but don’t treat them as disasters.”

  “Hm. OK. I’ll give it a try.”

  “So, what are you going to do first, Mum? You need to seize the moment.”

  “Well, I’ve always wanted to go on a painting holiday.”

  “There we are then. Go somewhere hot. Everything’s better in the sunshine.”

  So, surprisingly, that’s what I did. I left my usual caution at home, and went to Crete on my own for an organised painting holiday. What my children thought would serve as a timely diversion for me turned into a new life. I found that, after the initial culture shock, I loved the easy-going, unstructured way of life of the artistic community out there. Two weeks stretched to several months. I came back home for the winter, but couldn’t wait to go back out. And now I have a new partner. He’s quite a lot younger than me, another artist. I call myself an artist now. We’re going to set up our own art workshop in Crete. Of course the children think I’m having my mid-life crisis. Maybe I am, a bit late, but better late then never. I’ll be sixty next year, but that’s still young, these days, isn’t it?

  I’m so glad I finally changed my own rules, and allowed myself to live. I am grateful to Robert for setting me free, even though it was painful at
the time. And I’m pleased that the efforts of my children enabled me to start the process off.

  So now, I eavesdrop at every opportunity.

  Clare Tanner is the author of The Tranquillity Project, a novel set in the near future.

  Sample or purchase The Tranquillity Project at:

 
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