Sophie Whitaker hobbled into the London walkin clinic, her ankle twisted so badly that every step felt like a thin reed bending in the wind. A bald man in a crisp blue coat swooped past her, slipping ahead of the first patient and disappearing just as she managed to sit down on a squeaky plastic chair. In a hushed, annoyed sigh she muttered, Men and their rushnever a moments pause! A nearby woman, wiping her hands on a towel, replied, Hes been here before, trying to sort out a prosthetic. Hes in a hurry, thats why. She laughed, Good Andrew, my neighbour. Life never gave him a straight roadlost his leg to the knee, his wife left him. They say hell die alone, yet he still hops about like a springtuned mouse. No kids, no kin. At that instant a limphanded doctor emerged, smiling, winked at Sophie and the woman, and said, Whats the plan, ladies? Lets keep on living. He tapped his foot and drifted toward the exit.
Sophies smile lingered on the word ladies. It no longer fit her. Shed married young, a husband twelve years her senior, but their horoscopes matchedboth under the Dog. Peter, a true dog lover, soon brought home a shaggy Labrador they named Ginger, and Sophie soon found out she was expecting. Friends cooed, What a perfect lifeflat in Camden, a Mini, a country cottage, a dog, a baby on the way. In the sixth month, though, tragedy struck: a miscarriage. Peter tried to comfort her, then said, Were not as spry as we used to be, but we have Ginger. Sophie adored the dog, and Peter took him to shows, yet a dog could never fill the hollow where a child should have been.
At a dog show, Peter met Olivia Hart, who also owned a Labrador. He soon told Sophie the truth: Olivia and I will have a child; shes young, shell give birth to a healthy boy. Youre older, Sophie, youre like a withered oak. Olivia was nearly twenty years younger than Peter, a fact that seemed to the heavens a blessing. With Peter, Sophie started feeling years older than her age, as if life had slipped past her in a single, sudden breath. Retirement is just around the corner, Peter would say, as if he were reading her thoughts.
One week later, after her ankle had almost healed, Sophie returned to the clinic and encountered the same bald man again. Sorry, miss, please go ahead. I cut in line, he said with a apologetic grin. When the nurse called, Next! he lingered at the doorway. Youre invited, he called, not heading inside. I was here earlier, just teasing. Im Andrew, and you must be Sophie, right? A lovely name for a brighteyed girl. May I escort a solitary patient? Sophie answered, If Im a lovely girl, youre hardly a cripple. Together they stepped out; Andrew offered his arm as Sophie still limped.
Shall we pop into a little café? he suggested, Nice tea, cheap scones, I havent had breakfast yet. His company was easy, his jokes light, and he soon asked to meet again. One afternoon he confessed, Sophie, dont think Im in a hurry, I just fear someone will rush past me at a corner and leave me stranded. Im lame, bald, and youre a gorgeous young woman. He paused, then blurted, Marry me! Dont worry we barely know each other; I want to spend my remaining days discovering you. I have a flat, a steady job, Im strong. He looked at her, then lowered his head, as if sensing her silence. Who wants a cripple when a healthy, wealthy mate is so much easier?
Sophie laughed, Andrew, youre a rogue! It felt odd to say yes straight away, but Ill do it! In a surreal twist, she became pregnant almost immediately after the wedding. She had never imagined conceiving again; she felt as if a cross shed borne for years had been lifted. Life seemed to rewind, making her feel young, beautiful, cherished.
When their son, Sam, arrived with a mop of curls, Sophie cooed, Look, Andrew, our little Sam with those spirals! Andrew ran a hand over his bald scalp, Im a bald, lurching chap now, but I used to be a goldenhaired eagle. They both chuckled. Sophie, leaning against his shoulder, whispered, I cant believe we have a childif wed never met, Sam wouldnt exist. A sudden tear fell, and Andrew, startled, said, Sophie, whats wrong? Dont be sad, darling. She wiped her eyes, pressed tighter to him, and said, Im crying from happiness, for the first time in my life. A tear glistened on her lashes like a tiny diamond. She felt rich beyond measure, her wealth measured in the laughter of a child and the quiet love that wrapped around her like a warm blanket. The greatest treasure, she realised, was the family she now held, and happiness was simply love.
