«Plush» a Life Lesson
Andrew, how could you? We were laughing at that unwashed country girl! I shouted, storming out of the kitchen, outraged by my husband’s deed.
I’m sorry, Emma, the devil led me astray. I still can’t work out how I ended up in the «Plush» bed, Andrew frowned, cursed under his breath and smoked a shaky cigarette.
A new family moved into our block: James, Lucy, and their fiveyearold daughter Molly.
Andrew and I were thirty, our son six, the newcomers twentyfive. Sharing a floor, we grew close.
Lucy was a hearty village lass, ever the cook. Cakes, scones, piesshe treated them like trophies. No wonder she lumbered into the kitchen like a barrel on wheels.
Andrew and I jokingly called Lucy «Plush» for her round, soft shape. Her kitchen was a shrine of jam jars and tins, a world I could never match.
I liked to think of myself as pretty and wellkept. Lucy always drifted around in a threadbare robe with a tiny bun atop her head. Her husband James, as thin as a reed, and their plump daughter were always well fed. That, after all, was Lucys greatest merit. Still, I kept her company. James spent long stretches on the road, a lorry driver.
Hed met Lucy in some backwater hamlet when he ducked into the village shop for cigarettes. Lucys eyes latched onto the lean stranger at once. James had no chance of slipping unnoticed.
Nine months later Lucy gave the wandering driver a baby girl. James hauled Lucy and the child back to the city.
When I introduced my suddenlygrown family to my mother, she flatly refused to recognise the «rural» Lucy or the newborn granddaughter. James had to rent a flat.
My Andrew always protested at Lucys appearance.
How can you not love yourself? A woman is called my husband would scold me.
Andrews mother fell ill, a mild case. At first we took turns caring for the motherinlaw, but eventually we sought a helper. Lucy volunteered.
Ill take a little work from you, as a friend. I need to buy my husband a rubber boat for fishing, but dont tell Jameslet it be a surprise, Lucy beamed at the chance to earn a few extra pounds.
Lucy, dont drown my motherinlaw with food; shes lost her appetite, I warned Plush.
Soon work sent me on a longterm assignment elsewhere. I handed instructions to my husband, my son, and Lucy, then flew to another city.
A month passed, I returned. Andrew averted his gaze, Lucy avoided crossing my path.
Mum, cook the same tasty potatoes Aunt Lucy makes. And I liked her meat patty, my son exclaimed at the door.
Aunt Lucy fed you? I asked, wary.
Yes, she brought Molly over and took Dad away, my son reported.
I began to piece things together. James was on a haul, I was on a job.
That evening, after a hearty dinner for my husband, I opened the floor for a frank talk.
Andrew, I know everything, dont shut up. The boy told me everything, I said, though a part of me clung to fanciful denials.
Emma, there was nothing. Plush just asked to fix the tap, Andrew didnt blush, didnt flinch.
Come on, relax. It was just a joke. I dont think youd go after Lucy, I breathed a sigh of relief.
But Andrew started visiting his bedridden mother more often, lingering there for hours.
I went to the motherinlaw; she was calm, neat, yet alone. I looked for my husband and Plush
I rang Lucys flat.
A weary Lucy opened the door. In the background, my limp husband lay in bed.
Like a proper lady, I slipped back home in silence, my mind refusing to settle. Andrew, whod called Lucy a slob and a mess, was now intimately involved with her!
Truth be told, I couldnt muster jealousy toward the kitchen maid. When Andrew rushed after me, I pointed disdainfully toward the bathroom.
Take a shower. Scrub yourself clean! Amused? Ill tell James everything. Hell ask you! I threatened, laughing into my clenched fist. I imagined thin James waving his fists before Andrews nose.
Lucy confessed her affair to James. I have no idea how the ricketytopped husband reacted, but a week later the whole lot moved out. As they left, James, spotting me, said proudly:
No wonder it turned out that way. Who could resist my Lucy?
Time slipped by. I ran into Plush one day.
Hello, friend! Still holding a grudge? No point. Our village is full of such nonsense. I havent lost a penny, and your husbands still happy. Youre always on assignments you cant leave a hungry husband for long, Lucy lectured me on the rural handbook of life. I stared at her, the truth settling like dust after a storm. She smiled, soft and unshaken, holding Mollys hand as the girl nibbled a cookiehomemade, no doubt. The breeze carried the faint scent of cinnamon from Lucys sleeve. I nodded slowly, not in forgiveness, but in surrender. Some things werent about right or wrong. They were just about hunger, and warmth, and who happened to be there when the lights went low. I walked on, alone, the echo of her words stitching themselves quietly into my bones.
