Josephine Cox - The Runaway Woman

Paula gently rounded on him. ‘Don’t be too hard on her, Martin. You know as well as I do, Lucy is a good woman. She loves the family, and she’s always there for anyone in trouble. She’s a better woman than I will ever be.’

‘I do not believe that. You’ve been through a lot lately. You deserve a bit of fun and love in your life. As for Lucy, I wasn’t running her down. I was just stating the facts. I know it’s a pity, but she will never change, not now.’

‘But she’s a decent sort, whereas I’m just a flighty tart. I spend too much time at the mirror, and too much money having my hair styled and cut. I spend a fortune on make-up, and I couldn’t cook a dinner for four if I tried my best.’

‘Maybe. But you know how to laugh. You can make a man feel good, and you hit life at the run. That’s what makes you so exciting. At the end of the day, that’s what any man wants in his woman: excitement, laughter, being able to discuss anything and nothing with her, and the occasional fierce rows, and ending up in bed together afterwards.’

Paula grew serious. ‘You say that, Martin. But you have a wife who keeps your shirts washed and ironed. She’s good with money. She holds down a job and still manages to put a piping-hot meal in front of you when you sit down at the table. She never walks away from trouble, yet she never yells or argues. And she always puts your welfare and the family’s welfare before her own. Am I right?’

‘I suppose.’ Martin reflected on her words. ‘Yes … Lucy is everything you say, and I love her very much, but not in the way a man should love his wife. And maybe it’s my fault, because I was the one who made her pregnant when we were just schoolkids. After that, there was no choice for either of us. So now, we’re stuck in a life where there is no closeness, no fire, no tenderness, and nothing to look forward to except more of the same.’

When he seemed to lapse into thought, Paula interrupted, ‘So … Martin? Have you thought about my question?’

He gave a deep sigh. ‘Yes.’ His answer was so quiet, she could only just hear it. ‘I would leave Lucy, yes … without a shadow of doubt.’ He craved the idea of making a permanent life with Paula.

But when he reached out to take her, she pushed him away. ‘I think it’s time you went.’

‘What? No kisses, no hugs, just “get off to work”. Is that it?’

‘Yes … for now, anyway. But there’ll be time enough to talk again.’ Her sister, Lucy, was at the forefront of Paula’s mind, and for the slightest moment, she felt small, and deeply ashamed.

As always, though, the moment soon passed.

A short time later, she stood at the kitchen window and watched him hurry away. She was astonished to learn that, like her, Martin wanted them to be together permanently. I never believed you would leave Lucy for me, she thought, and the awful truth is … I would not try to stop you, because even though I love Lucy, I love you more.

Determined to push Lucy from her mind, she set about getting herself ready for work.

Mary Taylor, Paula’s neighbour, called her husband to the window. ‘Look at him run!’ She pointed at Martin as he scuttled down the alley to his van. ‘Like a thief in the night!’ she declared angrily. ‘They should be ashamed … the pair of them! I’ve got a good mind to tell his wife what they’re up to!’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Peter was a gentle soul, content with his quiet life. ‘It would only do more harm than good, and besides, I’ve told you before, it’s none of our business. Just leave it be. Let them sort it out in their own way. All right?’

When she turned away without giving him an answer, he insisted, ‘Mary! Promise me you won’t interfere!’

Mary gave a smile and a kind of nod. ‘All right, I hear you! Now stop worrying. Finish your breakfast and go for your newspapers. Oh, and you’d best take Rascal with you.’ She glanced at the little brown terrier stretched out on the rug. ‘He’s been waiting patiently. Don’t wear him out, though. I might take him to the park later, when you’re meeting up with your old cronies.’

‘I won’t wear him out.’

‘Good!’ She discreetly looked her husband up and down, noting the droop of his once-broad shoulders and the grey whiskers in his long, curly beard. She glanced at the little terrier and saw the grey whiskers on his chin also; it made her smile to see the resemblance between man and dog. ‘Take it easy, you two,’ she instructed. ‘Neither of you is as young as you used to be.’

‘Hey! Enough of that. You know what they say: you’re only as old as you feel.’

‘Oh, so you feel young and sprightly, do you?’ Edging towards him, she gave a cheeky wink. ‘Come on then, let’s see what you’re made of.’

‘Don’t be daft, woman. What’s wrong with you?’ He scrambled out of the chair to grab his coat, and she burst out laughing. ‘You’re a wicked woman!’ he chided her.

‘Not as wicked as her down the street!’ Mary retorted. ‘What woman with any decency would bed her own sister’s husband? Not to mention breaking her own marriage by flirting and carrying on with the lodger. Shameful, that’s what it is. I’m not surprised her poor husband fled to the hills.’

‘Behave yourself!’ Peter was never a man to gossip. ‘And anyway, you don’t know she’s “bedding” her sister’s husband.’

‘Take it from me, Peter,’ tapping the side of her nose, she gave a little smile, ‘a woman knows these things.’

‘Right, well, I’m off. Come on, Rascal!’ The little dog was already at the door, chasing backwards and forwards with his tongue hanging out.

When Peter opened the door, the dog set off at a run, clambering at the garden gate, impatient to be away.

Deep in thought, Mary resumed her chores at the sink, one eye on her husband as he went down the garden path. ‘Huh! Don’t tell me that little slut is not bedding Martin Lovejoy, because I would bet my life on it,’ she muttered.

Less than two miles away, Martin drew up at the old barn he was renovating. He yanked on the brake, then switched off the van engine.

He began whistling merrily, happy in the knowledge that Paula wanted the same things he did, but fell silent a moment later when Lucy crept into his mind.

For a few painful minutes he continued to think about Lucy, and how she would react if he ever had the courage to tell her about him and Paula. It’s sure to be a messy, hurtful business if I break with Lucy, he thought, leaning back in his seat. Lucy and me, though … he slowly shook his head … there’s just nothing there, and hasn’t been for a long time. At least not on my side.

He was truly sorry about Lucy, but he was determined to grab his happiness as soon as he could. It wasn’t her fault … they had been just kids learning about life. Too young to realise the consequences of what they did.

Looking back, he believed he was more to blame than Lucy. Me … the big man in the school ground … I had to have her, and I’ve paid the price ever since. Serves me bloody right! Thumping the dashboard, he softly cursed, thinking back, hating himself, hating Lucy, then loving her. I just can’t spend the rest of my life with her … not now I know that Paula wants me, he decided.

He tried to visualise what Lucy might say when he told her he and Paula were planning to live together. Lucy would get over it … she would! She was a sensible woman. She took things in her stride, always had.