Loneliness
A dame in the suburbs, a jockey husband, and a woman who says no. Better to have one freeofcharge service for a lifetime than a lonely marriage.
Come on, Katie, you cant be single forever, her mother Martha chided, waving her knitting needles like a baton. A man shouldnt be alonewomen are supposed to have a bloke. Otherwise its all wrong and no one will ever look at you. Loneliness, you know what that is?
Whats that? Katie asked, halflaughing, her nerves frayed by the endless chatter of her sister.
Loneliness is a proper nightmare! Martha snorted, eyes twinkling as if shed just seen a ghost. Its when youre desperate for a drink and the kids have vanished to the back garden!
Where? Katie tripped over her own words.
Where, where in Cambridge! Martha finally realized her sister was laughing at her, then sighed. Youll end up marrying anyone. Im terrified for you, but Im watching over you. Being single is hard, but a lonely soul can be quite charming. Lets make a deal, shall we? Katie, a good bloke is out there. Its just a matter of finding the one who doesnt run away.
Katie had already been on the market for about ten years. Her blessing, a handsome fellow named Charles, had drifted away a decade earlier, showing up once more just to cause a ruckus. When Katie heard the news she immediately told her husband to pack a suitcase for the two children, and then for the two cats as well. Though her husband tried to convince her that once is enough and nothings strange unless you make it so, pounding his fists on the kitchen counter and shedding a few manly tears, Katie stayed unfazed. The divorce went ahead.
Her exhusband behaved like a gentleman, leaving the cat to his former wife and the two kids to the grandparents. The children grew up and scattered. The son stayed in Manchester, working as a carpenter. The daughter soon married and moved abroad with her husband. Katie was left living alone in a tiny, slightly damp flat in central London.
Living solo didnt bother her. She found a reasonably good job as a receptionist, earned enough to live comfortably, and even took in a few boardersher sister Martha and a couple of her cousins. Despite not being a brainiac, she always kept herself busy and never got bored. She read a lot, swam, went to yoga, loved traveling, and even dabbled in a bit of amateur journalism. All in all, she was content.
Until the day Martha decided to sort out Katies fate
Listen to me, Katie. A decent bloke, not too shabby, about sixtyone. Youll be single for seven more years. A big house, good land, a proper farmcattle, goats, pigs, chickens, everything except the occasional hedgehog. Its healthy food, youll love it: fresh milk, eggs, meat. By the time youre a hundred youll be a proper farmer, you hear? And the man? Hes charming, welleducated, and talks like hes from a book.
Fine, Martha, Ill meet the neighbouryour blokeso be it. But I didnt promise anything.
Business never changes, as they say, Martha muttered, while Katie was still undecided.
Soon enough, a meeting was arranged between Martha and a farmer named Ian. He turned out to be nothing more than a sturdy, muscular fellow with a decent haircut, clean hands and wellkept nails. He could speak a bit, though mostly in grunts, and was quick with jokes, though his humor was as dry as a desert. His name sounded very EnglishIan Ketteridge.
After the first encounter, Martha lingered, eyeing Ian. She thought perhaps a proper, downtoearth soul might be what a single woman needs. Ian, meanwhile, hinted that a partnership could be beneficial. Were already sprouting a few ideas, he said, we could raise cows, milk them, collect eggs, and keep the farm running without any drama. He went on about milking cows, tending goats, keeping the hen house tidy, and even mentioned a tiny cottage on the property. Ill handle the heavy lifting, he claimed, but Ill need some help with the womens worklike milking and collecting eggs.
Katie went home, sighed, and wondered what all this was for. She owned a modest plot in the city, a small side hustle, and a tiny cottage where she liked to plant herbs in summer and sometimes pretend she was a pirate. Shed even bought herself a secondhand car eight years ago. She wondered why she should get involved in farm life, clean pig pens, or tend a chicken coop when she already had too many things to juggle: cooking for a husband, shopping for groceries, keeping an eye on the house, and maintaining order in a spacious home. Of course, the income from this business would be decent, but she wasnt exactly living poorly. Shed get a pension, a little savings, and a modest allowance.
All of that was necessary for a comfortable life, she thought. Yet the idea of bending over in a field, milking a cow and chasing chickens for two levels of a ladder seemed a bit much. In the evening, she called Martha.
Martha, dont take offence, but Ill politely decline Ians proposal. Maybe some bloke out there is hardworking and lucky, but Im not after that. He didnt even ask for permission, Martha. Hes not just looking for a wife, he wants labor. Id rather stay single, and if I need to pour a glass of water, Ill do it myself.
Martha sobbed for a while, then composed herself. The promise that a farmers life would bring happiness and a tidy household faded.
Later, Katie texted Ian, saying shed no longer be attending the meeting, because she simply wasnt interested and her circumstances had changed. Ian called back a few days later, but the line went dead. After a short silence, Katie got up at eight in the morning, made a coffee, and sat by the window thinking about the kids she hadnt seen in ages, her son in Manchester, the daughters birthday in a faroff country, and the need to buy a new handbag for the winter coat. She also thought she should call her friend Denise, the local solicitor, to arrange a meeting
And so the story goes on, with Katie navigating her own quirky, slightly chaotic, but ultimately happy English life.
