“I Want to Marry a Decent Man”
“He bought a new sound system,” whispered Eleanor, not shifting from her hunched position. “Cost him a fortune. Meanwhile, Ive been saving from my wages for a new washing machine because ours screeches like a banshee. He said I ‘dont appreciate investments in art.’ In *art*, Vera… Can you believe it?”
The tea in the pot had gone cold, leaving behind a bitter, dark sludge. The baguette slices on the plate had hardened, the cheese forming a waxy crust, and Vera couldnt seem to comfort her friend. Eleanor had come over after yet another row with her husband and, having cried herself dry, now sat hugging her knees, staring blankly at the wall.
They hadnt seen much of each other these past three yearsEleanors husband rarely let her go out alone and never liked her friends. But this time, hed raised a hand to her, and his usual restrictions hadnt stopped her from leaving.
To distract her from her misery, Vera offered, “Ellie, want to hear an old love story? Once, I got to see what real devotion looks like.”
Eleanor gave a lifeless nod. “Go on. Just none of those syrupy fairytales about princes. Ive had enough.”
Vera stood, walked to the stove, and lit the gas beneath the teapot. The quiet hiss filled the silence.
“No princes, love. This happened right before my eyes,” Vera said with a small smile. “And it wasnt even about people. Years ago, I worked in a warehouse down in the industrial district. You know the sortguard dogs everywhere, a pack of strays always lurking. One day, someone dumped two puppies on us: a plump little black bear of a thing called Patch and a ginger girl we named Rusty. They grew up inseparable. Patch was a rowdy scrapper, Rusty quiet and clever, with the wise eyes of an old soul. Everyone doted on them.”
Vera paused. Seeing Eleanor glance at her, even if absently, she continued.
“Then disaster struck. One day, Rusty got caught under a lorrydriver never saw her. We thought she wouldnt make it, but mongrels are tough. Only she never walked right again, dragging her hind legs behind her. Clever as she was, she understood everything. Broke your heart just to look at her.”
“Poor thing…” Eleanor murmured.
“But heres the thing,” Vera said, smiling. “She didnt give up. She became our best lookout! Stranger on the grounds? Shed sound the alarm with that sharp bark of hers, and Patch and the others would charge straight where she pointed. They made a proper team.”
Veras face grew solemn.
“Then Rusty grew up, had her first season. And every stray mongrel for miles came sniffing around. A pack of rough, hungry dogs. They hounded hershe couldnt run, couldnt fight, just whimpered and crawled to hide by our feet. We shooed them off, but they kept coming back.”
Eleanor had gone still, listening.
“What about Patch? Where was he?”
“Patch…” Vera sighed. “At first, he was lost. Ran in circles, barking, but wouldnt take on the pack. Instincts, scents… it all confused him. Then… they both vanished. Came back three days later. And Patch was changed. He walked ahead of her, hackles raised, a low growl in his throat. Rusty followed. And if any other dog so much as glanced her way, Patch turned into a storm. He tore into them like hed rip them apart. He *understood*. Understood she needed protecting.”
Eleanor clenched her fists, fresh tears wellingdifferent ones this time.
“We thought that was the end of it. No pups in her state… But a month later, Rusty grew round. And Patch? He never left her side. Brought her the best scraps from his bowl, licked her clean, slept curled against her. Such tenderness… We all fed her extra, worried over her. The women especially.”
Vera turned away, her voice wavering.
“The labour started on a sweltering day. We didnt notice at first. Patch was the one who raised the alarm. He didnt howlhe made this awful, keening whine, darting between our legs, nipping at our trousers, dragging us to where Rusty had hidden under the old porch. But it was too late… She was already going… couldnt deliver.”
The ticking of the wall clock filled the room.
“We wrapped her in an old coat… buried her behind the garage. Had to shut Patch in the storeroom. He went mad, clawing at the door, howling… That sound… still haunts my dreams sometimes. When it was over and we let him out, he tore through the yard, sniffing every corner, every crevice… Searching. By nightfall… he was gone. Never came back.”
Vera wiped her eyes. Eleanor sat motionless, hands twisted together.
“God…” she whispered. “Thats… love. And me and Max… were just two strangers sharing a flat. Barely even notice each other. Unless weve a reason to row. Otherwise, we just exist in separate worlds.”
“Maybe its just a rough patch? You were mad for him at the start. It was good once.”
“It was *never* good, Vera. We rowed over every little thing from day one. I wanted the wedding so badly, I dragged Max to the registry office without thinking Id be carrying everything after. Now Im paying for it. Right, Id best go. Thanks.”
***
After that night, the friends barely spoke for months. Work, life. Theyd grown used to scarce meetings anyway. Occasionally, a message would pop up: “You alright?” “Fine. You?” “Same.”
Then, on a dreary autumn evening, Eleanor wrote: “Fancy tea? Ill bring cake.” Two hours later, she was on the doorstep. Behind her stood a tall man with a calm, slightly shy face.
“Vera, this is Stephen,” Eleanor said, her eyes shining brighter than Vera had ever seen. “Were getting married soon.”
Stunned, Vera let them in. Over tea, Stephen won her over with his quiet, steady simplicity. He didnt try to impress, but the way he handed Eleanor her cup, the way he looked at her, spoke volumes.
When he stepped onto the balcony, Vera gaped at her friend.
“Well? Whered you find him? What about Max?”
Eleanor smileda new, happy smile.
“After I left yours that night, I cried all the way home. But not over Max. Over Patch and Rusty. Because I saw the plain truth about my so-called marriagethat no one ever really loved me there. I realised I didnt want to live like that anymore, that I deserved kindness. Loyalty. Care. If dogs can manage it… Anyway, next morning, I packed my things and left.”
“And Max?”
“Took him days to notice, and I reckon he was relieved. Hed known we werent right either. I wasnt looking for anyoneplanned to be on my own a while. Met Stephen outside the courthouse. Literally bumped into him at the door. I was a wreck, near tears, and he asked, ‘You alright?’ Turned out hed just got his freedom too. We talked… went for coffee. And… well,” Eleanor rested a hand on her stomach. “Babys due soon.”
“Quick work, mum,” Vera smirked.
“Didnt expect it myself. But Vera… Ive never been happier. I finally know what its like to be part of something real. To feel safe. Loved. You can see it, cant you?”
Vera looked at her friend, nodding, smiling through her own tears.
