Emma married late, at twenty-five. Her husband wasnt exactly a hopeless case, but neither was he the sort to stir envy in her friends. Did she love him? Even she didnt know. Shed grown used to him. A son came alongTimmy, bright and serious. What more could she want? She didnt want anything. Shed made peace with the fact that her Geoff was dull, unremarkable. Tight with money, too. Emma stopped noticing after a while. She worked at the school, minding the after-hours club, cared for her boythat was her life. And yet shed been a beauty once, turning heads wherever she went! Golden hair in soft waves framing her delicate face. A figure to make anyone stare. A proper English rose, thats what she was. A woman like that ought to have caught herself a duke.
Her family never took to Geoff, always snickering at him. He never fit in with their lotnever joined the chatter, never got the jokes, always tugging at Emmas sleeve: “Its late, lets go home! Early start tomorrow!” Soon enough, they stopped inviting them altogether. And so they lived, like shadows at the edge of things.
Old age crept in, grey and joyless. What had Emma seen of the world? Nothing. Their only holidays were at Geoffs factorys shabby little retreatthree meals a day, evening dances. The Harrisons never went to the dances. “Whats the point?” Geoff would say. “Thats for folks looking to pair off. Not us, eh, Em?” Emma would nod, obedient.
Fancy clothes from the shops were out of the question. “Too dear! Theres a stall down the market with decent stuff, Turkish imports, half the price.” Emma sighed but never argued.
Then disaster struck. Geoffs memory began to slipnot even old, really, looking better than he had in his youth, and yethere they were. The doctors verdict was grim: early dementia after a series of small strokes. Now Geoff barely recognised their son or the grandchildren. “Who are these kids?” hed ask.
“Geoff, love,” Emma would murmur, as if to a child, “thats Danny and Alfie, our grandsons. And the taller ones Timmy, our boy.”
“Whym I only hearing about this now? They just get here?” Geoff would blink, baffled. Five minutes later, hed ask again.
But *her*he knew. How could he not, when she tended to him like a nursemaid? Without Emma, hed have wandered out in his vest and pants. Now the money was hers to spend as she pleased, but the urge for pretty things had left her. Not out of thriftshed just forgotten how to want. She walked past boutiques without a glance, yet bought Geoff expensive treatslet him have some joy. He trailed after her like a lamb, begging her not to leave him too long at the shops. “What if you dont come back?” Once, he clutched her hand and said, “I love you, Em. Youre everything to me. Id be lost without you.”
Words shed never heard from him before. Funny how they say misfortune can bring a strange sort of blessing. But what use was it to her now? Emma locked herself in the bedroom and wept. Then she dried her eyesmustnt let Geoff seeand carried on.
…This tale was told to me by a neighbour, a lovely woman, slender still despite the years. Not a trace of self-pity on her face. Shyly, she added, “I wrote Geoff a little poem. Want to hear? *My faithful friend, youre by my side, / Though time has turned the tide. / Forgetting seasons? So it seems. / Youve muddled August for Decembers dreams… / I pray each night with all my might, / That youll remember me just right.*”
I hugged Emma tight and wished her, silently, all the strength and patience in the world.
