By the Broken Bucket
From childhood, Clarissa knew she was beautifuleveryone said so.
“Our little girl is lovely, stands out among the others,” her mother would cheerfully tell her colleagues and friends.
And indeed, everyone saw it and agreedhow could they not? Though the neighbour was sceptical:
“All children are pretty, but some lose their looks as they grow. Not all, mind you, but it happens.”
Clarissa grew up, and by the time she reached sixth form, she was a statuesque beautyhaughty and spoiled, certain that everyone, especially the boys who gazed at her hungrily, would bend to her will.
After school, she didnt get into university, though she dreamed of higher education, so she settled for college and earned a diploma in retail management.
“Darling,” her mother said, “let me get you a job at the factory lab. Its light workno heavy lifting, and youre far too delicate for anything rough.”
“But what about my diploma?”
“Oh, who even works in their field these days? And why would you want to bother with retail?” Her mother, who had spent her whole life at the factory alongside Clarissas father, had made up her mind.
Clarissa worked as a lab assistant. By then, she had grown even more striking, knew her worth, and fell for Vincent, an engineer from the next workshop. Their romance was fiery and briefVincent soon proposed.
“Before someone steals you away, marry me,” he said with a smile, offering his hand. “Will you?”
“Yes,” she answered brightly.
Their wedding was like any otherheld in the factory canteen. Back then, in the old days, everyones celebrations were much the same: not lavish, but crowded with guests.
Soon after, Clarissa realised she was expecting.
“Vincent, were going to have a baby,” she told him.
“Brilliant! Im so happy, love,” he said, embracing her.
Their daughter, Sophie, was bornjust as pretty as her mother. Everyone was overjoyed.
Time passed. Sophie grew, started nursery, while Clarissa and Vincent worked. After maternity leave, Clarissa changednot in looks, but in attitude. She began acting as though she were royalty, belittling her husband more each day. Vincent spent most of his time with Sophiepicking her up from nursery, reading bedtime stories, tucking her in.
Clarissa was busy. She came home late, blaming work, though Vincent knew no one in the lab stayed overtime. He never dared say a wordshed throw a fit, and he couldnt bear for Sophie to hear them argue.
“Vincent, your wife was seen with the chief engineer at a restaurant,” colleagues muttered, but he just lowered his eyes.
“Vincent, whyd you marry a beauty?” friends asked. “You know a pretty cake wont stay uneaten for long…”
They told him outrightClarissa was popular with men, moving in high circles now, not like him, just an ordinary engineer. By then, she was seeing Anthony Whitaker, a ministry official, who spoiled her with jewels and expensive gifts.
Vincent became a meek, quiet husband, shouldering all the chores and childcare. Clarissa only gave ordersstudy, shop, cook, clean. He never considered divorce, afraid of hurting Sophie.
Then came the upheavalAnthonys position crumbled, along with many others. He was under suspicion.
“Clarissa, if anyone asks about me, keep quiet,” he said one day. “I dont think well see each other again.”
And so it was. Anthony vanishedarrested, she learned. Worse, she was summoned for questioning, then detained. Terrified, she begged to be released, swearing she knew nothing of Anthonys dealings.
Eventually, lacking evidence, they let her gobut her reputation was ruined. She returned home feeling as if shed been swimming in filth. She had lost everything. Their savings were goneVincent had sold half their belongings to support her during the ordeal. The factory dismissed her, and though Vincent refused to divorce for Sophies sake, they lived as strangers.
Once, he nearly left, but feared how Sophie would take itshe still needed her mother.
Clarissa, sensing his thoughts, swallowed her pride.
“Vincent, dont leave me. Forgive meit wont happen again.”
He stayed but wouldnt touch her.
“You slept with others,” he said.
“I did it for us,” she replied.
Soon, she strayed againthis time with a young assistant, Aidan. Old connections and sharp business sense helped her bounce back. Borrowing money, she rented a souvenir stall in a busy tourist spot. Within years, she had her own shop, then another.
“Vincent, Im flying to Turkey for stockpick me up from the airport,” she ordered. “Or Poland. Honestly, quit your job and help me. I need a mans strength.”
“Not cut out for retail,” he said.
“Plenty of unemployed men, then,” she snapped.
She and Aidan became more than colleagues, sneaking off to hotels. Money flowed in. Vincent knew but said little.
“If you paid me attention, I wouldnt need Aidan,” she retorted.
“You disgust me,” he said.
Years flew. Sophie grew up, married, and moved to Scotland. New Year cameClarissa flew to China, Vincent celebrated with friends in Norway. When they returned, he stared at her.
“Clarissawhats this? You look younger.”
Not a wrinkle remainedshed been plump, now slender again.
“How much did that cost?”
She laughed hysterically, then sobered.
“Everything. Absolutely everything.” She held out bare hands, emptied her purse. “Chinese magicmassages, acupuncture. Very expensive.”
She couldnt bear ageing beside Aidan. To Vincent, she sneered, “Youre old. Look at me.”
“Were the same age.”
She just laughed.
But money dwindledthe treatments cost a fortune, profits shrank. Then Vincent had a heart attack. Hospitalised, then home, unable to work, aged overnight.
“God, is that what Id look like?” Clarissa muttered, checking the mirror.
“Stay with me,” he sometimes pleaded.
“I havent got time. Money wont wait.”
One day, Aidan met her at the shop with a folder.
“Read this.”
“What is it? Ive no time”
“Its serious. You own nothing now. Its all mine. Youre done.”
At the solicitors, she was told:
“Clarissa, I cant help. The paperworks flawlessyour signatures are on every transfer.”
“But I thought it was temporary!”
“You shouldve read it properlyor hired me sooner.”
“Your fees are extortionate.”
“Well, you wanted to cut corners. Dont blame me.”
Defeated, she returned home.
“I need money. Lots of it.”
Vincent sighed. “Theres nothing left.”
“What about the flat?”
“Nonot that!”
“Well sell it, buy something cheaper.”
“And whatll I do?”
“Ill get you a computer. Live virtually.” She cackled.
Clarissa knew shed rise again, like a phoenixsell the flat, rebuild. She always landed on her feet.
