After The End
Resting her chin on her hands, Lizzy studied the three new patients sitting in a row on the opposite side of her desk. The effect was remarkable, like a spectrum of middle-aged femininity: petite dark-haired doll on the left, medium-height brunette in the centre, tall willowy blonde on the right. The Three Bears in human form. She wondered if they had done it on purpose.
They were new faces, these three, here to talk through their marital problems with a qualified counsellor and with each other. It was often the 'each other' that mattered most. Nothing helped quite so much as the feeling of not being alone. Because the fact was that the problems were the same, whether they belonged to ordinary people or the three wealthy and privileged patients in front of her. Women dreaming of romance, of fairytale happy-ever-afters, and ending up with the daily slog of reality.
“Good morning, ladies,” she greeted them. “I believe we're all here today to discuss marriage –”
That was as far as she got before being overtaken by a babble of voices. All three women seemed desperate to describe just how difficult their husbands were. After two minutes of being bombarded with words like 'selfish', 'feckless' and 'extravagant', Lizzy held up her hands for silence.
“All right! I think we'll get on much better if we talk one at a time, don't you?” She nodded to the woman on the left of the row. “Why don't you start –” she consulted her list – “Ms White?”
“My husband feels like a stranger to me,” the petite woman said. Her dark hair was cut in a severe bob, and the slash of too-bright lipstick across her mouth accentuated the pallor of her skin. “Sometimes I think it's because we didn't get to know each other properly before we married.”
“I know what you mean.” The tall woman nodded, strands of faded blonde hair escaping from her uneven plait. There was a small, permanent frown between her brows. “I shared a few dances with mine, and that was it. As if dancing could be the basis for a long-term relationship.”
“At least you had something, Cindy. With us, it was love at first sight.” Ms White snorted. “No-one ever tells you that one romantic moment isn't enough to sustain you when your husband is stuffing down his fifth pie and leering at all the servants.”
“Exactly! But somehow … well, you know how it is. You get caught up in the atmosphere of it all. I'd lost a shoe at the last dance, you see, and he returned it to me ...” Cindy sighed. “He was my knight in shining armour. But the fact that a man can be trusted to return your lost property doesn't tell you anything about what he'll be like around the house.”
“It's not as though I'd never lived with a man before,” the dark-haired woman said. “I had several housemates before I met him, and they used to get up to all sorts. But it's different when it's your own husband expecting you to run the house, and him never lifting a finger.”
“I know.” The blonde shook her head sympathetically. “I was hoping to get away from all that when I married. But no – it's cook, clean, wash, just like before.”
“You think you've got it bad?” That was the third woman, the brunette, who until then had been listening to the conversation in scornful silence. “When I first met my husband, he wasn't at all the sort of man I wanted to marry. He promised me he'd change, and for a time he did. But now he's gone back to his old ways. Once a beast, always a beast.”
Both blonde and dark head turned to look at her.
“We did try and warn you, Belle,” Ms White said. “One thing I can say about my husband is he's not an animal.”
Belle shrugged, scowling. “There you go. You two should count yourselves lucky. Try living with someone who forgets he isn't supposed to roam around the grounds naked. And don't even get me started on his bloody rose bush obsession.”
Lizzy bit her lip. Time for her to step in. She cleared her throat, reclaiming their attention.
“This is all very interesting. But don't you think we're as much to blame as the men? We fall in love with them for all the wrong reasons, and then expect them to live up to some romantic image of them we've created out of dreams and wishful thinking. We build all our hopes on a single act of kindness, whether it's returning a slipper or – or rescuing a sister from disgrace. We imagine ourselves into a fairytale, but we never think about what happens after The End.”
There was a moment of silence; three blank faces stared back at her. Lizzy sighed.
“All right. Time's up, I'm afraid. I'll see you all next week.”
“Thank you, Ms Bennet.” The petite dark-haired woman was the first to recover, jumping to her feet with the air of someone wanting to brush over an embarrassment. “Let's go, Cindy. You coming, Belle?”
“All right, Snow.”
As they left, Lizzy heard Snow White murmur to the others, “I'm not convinced our Ms Bennet knows what she's talking about. She doesn't look like the type to have had any romance in her life.”
Lizzy leaned back in her chair and massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers. Silly women. If anyone knew about the realities of romance, it was her. But of course, they weren't to know she had once been married; she had reverted to her maiden name when she became a counsellor.
Return to Flashes
They were new faces, these three, here to talk through their marital problems with a qualified counsellor and with each other. It was often the 'each other' that mattered most. Nothing helped quite so much as the feeling of not being alone. Because the fact was that the problems were the same, whether they belonged to ordinary people or the three wealthy and privileged patients in front of her. Women dreaming of romance, of fairytale happy-ever-afters, and ending up with the daily slog of reality.
“Good morning, ladies,” she greeted them. “I believe we're all here today to discuss marriage –”
That was as far as she got before being overtaken by a babble of voices. All three women seemed desperate to describe just how difficult their husbands were. After two minutes of being bombarded with words like 'selfish', 'feckless' and 'extravagant', Lizzy held up her hands for silence.
“All right! I think we'll get on much better if we talk one at a time, don't you?” She nodded to the woman on the left of the row. “Why don't you start –” she consulted her list – “Ms White?”
“My husband feels like a stranger to me,” the petite woman said. Her dark hair was cut in a severe bob, and the slash of too-bright lipstick across her mouth accentuated the pallor of her skin. “Sometimes I think it's because we didn't get to know each other properly before we married.”
“I know what you mean.” The tall woman nodded, strands of faded blonde hair escaping from her uneven plait. There was a small, permanent frown between her brows. “I shared a few dances with mine, and that was it. As if dancing could be the basis for a long-term relationship.”
“At least you had something, Cindy. With us, it was love at first sight.” Ms White snorted. “No-one ever tells you that one romantic moment isn't enough to sustain you when your husband is stuffing down his fifth pie and leering at all the servants.”
“Exactly! But somehow … well, you know how it is. You get caught up in the atmosphere of it all. I'd lost a shoe at the last dance, you see, and he returned it to me ...” Cindy sighed. “He was my knight in shining armour. But the fact that a man can be trusted to return your lost property doesn't tell you anything about what he'll be like around the house.”
“It's not as though I'd never lived with a man before,” the dark-haired woman said. “I had several housemates before I met him, and they used to get up to all sorts. But it's different when it's your own husband expecting you to run the house, and him never lifting a finger.”
“I know.” The blonde shook her head sympathetically. “I was hoping to get away from all that when I married. But no – it's cook, clean, wash, just like before.”
“You think you've got it bad?” That was the third woman, the brunette, who until then had been listening to the conversation in scornful silence. “When I first met my husband, he wasn't at all the sort of man I wanted to marry. He promised me he'd change, and for a time he did. But now he's gone back to his old ways. Once a beast, always a beast.”
Both blonde and dark head turned to look at her.
“We did try and warn you, Belle,” Ms White said. “One thing I can say about my husband is he's not an animal.”
Belle shrugged, scowling. “There you go. You two should count yourselves lucky. Try living with someone who forgets he isn't supposed to roam around the grounds naked. And don't even get me started on his bloody rose bush obsession.”
Lizzy bit her lip. Time for her to step in. She cleared her throat, reclaiming their attention.
“This is all very interesting. But don't you think we're as much to blame as the men? We fall in love with them for all the wrong reasons, and then expect them to live up to some romantic image of them we've created out of dreams and wishful thinking. We build all our hopes on a single act of kindness, whether it's returning a slipper or – or rescuing a sister from disgrace. We imagine ourselves into a fairytale, but we never think about what happens after The End.”
There was a moment of silence; three blank faces stared back at her. Lizzy sighed.
“All right. Time's up, I'm afraid. I'll see you all next week.”
“Thank you, Ms Bennet.” The petite dark-haired woman was the first to recover, jumping to her feet with the air of someone wanting to brush over an embarrassment. “Let's go, Cindy. You coming, Belle?”
“All right, Snow.”
As they left, Lizzy heard Snow White murmur to the others, “I'm not convinced our Ms Bennet knows what she's talking about. She doesn't look like the type to have had any romance in her life.”
Lizzy leaned back in her chair and massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers. Silly women. If anyone knew about the realities of romance, it was her. But of course, they weren't to know she had once been married; she had reverted to her maiden name when she became a counsellor.
Return to Flashes