Polly and her husband, Alex, had been together for twentysix years. Theyd met back at university, married after graduating, and two years later a son was born. Just a typical British family.
Their son grew up, got married and moved to London with his wife. Once he left, things at home with Polly and Alex changed almost overnight. Suddenly there was nothing left to chat about, and honestly, they didnt even miss the chatter. Theyd known each other inside out, could finish each others sentences with a glance. A few words here and there and then it was quiet.
When Polly first started her first job after university, there was a woman in her department who looked about fortyfive. To Polly she seemed far older than her years. She always took a winter break, came back with a perfectly even tan, and her short, bleached hair only highlighted the warmth of her complexion.
Must be a tanning salon, whispered the new trainee, Jenna.
One day Polly finally asked the woman how she managed such a glow in the dead of winter.
We spent the holidays at a ski resort in the Scottish Highlands, she replied.
Really? At your age? Polly gasped.
The woman burst out laughing.
Your age? Im only fortyfive. When you reach my age youll see that this is the real kind of youth not foolish, but mature. Remember, love, boredom is the biggest enemy of a marriage. All the affairs and divorces start because of it. When the kids grow up you slip into a quiet, steady life and thats when some men lose their minds. We women never have the luxury of being bored; we work, look after the kids, and the house ends up on our shoulders. Meanwhile the bloke lounges on the sofa, thinks about how to use his unused energy. Some drink, some look for new thrills. As they say, they start hunting for a new lady.
I was naïve, thinking my husband was just exhausted from work, that there was nothing wrong with him sitting in front of the telly, not drinking, and that was that. I was buzzing around the house like a windup toy. Then one day he told me hed fallen for someone else, that I was boring him and he was leaving. Can you imagine?
When I remarried, I did things differently. I made Alex pitch in with the chores, wed get out of town every weekend, head into the countryside, ski in winter. I never gave him a minute to just veg out on the sofa. Were still together, the kids are grown, and we travel around the UK. Might not be for everyone, but take the lesson.
Polly never forgot that womans words. She started noticing Alex drifting to the sofa after a hearty dinner, hard to pull him away. He used to go hiking, raft down rivers, and pull all sorts of birthday surprises.
Polly tried to shake him up, bought theatre tickets, even a cruise down the Norfolk Broads on a threedeck boat.
In the theatre Alex dozed off, at a house party hed yawn after a couple of glasses of wine, always sprinting back to his beloved couch. On the boat he complained about the cramped cabin. Skiing was a nogo; his growing belly made him dread any sport.
When Polly suggested a movie night, Alex looked at her with those sad, pleading eyes and said, Where are you trying to drag me? I just want a lazy weekend, maybe a nap. Go out with your friends.
Back when they first lived together Alex used to go camping with his mates. They had a proper crew, loved whitewater rafting, and Alex even played guitar and sang a decent tune.
Polly never joined them work never gave her leave, then pregnancy, then looking after their little boy.
Dont give him that much free time, warned Pollys mum. Hell find a hobby buddy and drift off.
Its not about cheating, love. You can find a distraction right at home. I trust Alex, Polly replied, trusting him completely.
Soon the camping crew settled down with families, so the trips stopped.
One lazy Sunday Polly plopped down next to Alex on the sofa with an old photo album. At first she was reluctant, but then she got drawn in, watching the pictures and reminiscing.
Dont you ever fancy a bit of a throwback, reliving the good old days? she asked.
No, whod I go with? Everyones busy, grandkids
With me. Ive never been on your trips. Take the initiative, call up your old mates, maybe someonell say yes.
Are you serious? Back then we were reckless youths, now
Too wise? Polly chuckled. Then lets hit the theatre this weekend, do something cultured. She slammed the album shut, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
Alex thought about it. Later at dinner he said, Ive spoken to a couple of the lads. Toms promised a route, still has his old tents. We could rent a raft at the sports centre. Polly saw a spark in his eyes that made her grin.
He warned, Itll be tough for a beginner rivers, rapids, mosquitos, sleeping on the ground in sleeping bags, no showers, no proper loo, youll have to dash behind a bush. Youll want to head home on day one.
I wont give up, Polly promised.
Alex rolled his eyes, Fine. He reminded her of her fancy nail polish, plush slippers, and cosy robe. Youll need proper gear, not highheels.
They went shopping together; Alex wouldnt let her off the leash.
I know youll buy more swimsuits and dresses, but for a trek you need warm clothes and solid boots, he said.
Polly trusted him, followed his advice, and the preparation soon took over her thoughts. Backpacks were packed.
Put it on, lets see how you look, Alex instructed.
Polly struggled with the weight, groaning as the bag pressed down. Take it off, Alex said, lets see whats inside.
She emptied the sack, only to find hair rollers, a makeup case, a hair dryer, countless jars of cream, shampoos, and a stack of gardenparty clothes nothing for a hike.
Youll get swarmed by mosquitos, Alex laughed. Maybe youd rather stay home? He looked at her with a hint of pity.
Polly felt a flush of embarrassment. Alex then stripped the pack of all the fluff, leaving only the essentials. The bag felt lighter.
Ive got this, Polly said, feeling a surge of confidence.
She remembered how shed tried to pull Alex into theatre and art, and hed gone along at first. As a partner, she wanted to stand by him through the rough and the smooth.
The closer they got to departure, the more doubts crept in. At the train station, with a halfdozen other men and a lady joining them, Polly asked quietly, Are your friends divorced?
No, their wives and grandkids are at home, Alex replied.
The journey was lively jokes, Alex strumming his guitar, the men swapping stories. Polly thought, if this kept up, shed manage just fine.
But a few kilometres from the station, her back ached from the pack, her legs trembled, sweat poured down her face. She was embarrassed to complain; the men were lugging sleeping bags, tents and a deflated boat.
The countryside was lovely, but Polly could barely keep her footing, terrified of tripping or breaking a foot. When they finally reached the river, she just wanted to lie on the grass and never move again. The men lit a fire, pitched tents as if they hadnt a clue they were exhausted.
Youll get used to it, encouraged Tasha, one of the womens wives. Lets fetch water, we need to cook dinner.
She wanted to cry, to get home, a hot shower, a soft bed.
Then the night settled in. Alex played guitar by the fire, his voice ringing clear. She forgot how handsome he looked, how alive he was. For a moment she saw the Alex shed fallen for all those years ago.
The next day youll try to run off? he teased, eyeing the blisters on her hands.
No, she said firmly.
At the rapids she hesitated, the water roaring, sharp stones jutting out. She wanted to suggest staying on the bank, but Alexs cheeky grin made her swallow the thought. She clung to the rafts side, fearing the cold plunge.
When the rapids finally passed, she let out a relieved shout, louder than anyone else.
They returned home a week later, tired but buzzing with stories. Polly realised shed miss the new friends, the songs, the open air, the quiet.
After a shower and a hearty dinner, they sat sidebyside at the laptop, scrolling through photos, teasing each other. They hadnt done that in ages. The trek had brought them back together, gave them a shared interest again. They fell asleep in each others arms, just like when they were young.
Next year we should do another trek? Polly asked, nestling into Alexs warm side.
Enjoyed it, did you? he laughed. Its not a West End show or a fancy restaurant. Its life.
Ill be better prepared now. You wont be embarrassed for me, she promised.
I wasnt embarrassed at all. For a rookie you did brilliantly, Alex replied. Pollys cheeks flushed with pride.
When their son called, she rattled off the whole adventure.
Sounds like a wild life over there, I thought youd be bored, he said.
Were not bored. How are you?
Were expecting a boy, he announced.
After the holiday Polly went back to work, eyes bright, a beaded friendship bracelet on her wrist.
Did you go to the south? You look barely tanned, a colleague remarked, spotting the bracelet.
Its a charm. A shaman gave it to me, Polly replied with a grin.
So, if you want to bring back that spark, dont just sit at home. Share a hobby with your partner. It might not be extreme for everyone, but theres always something you can do together. As some writer once said, Dont be afraid to put in the effort to save love. Because love isnt found in grand gestures, but in the quiet courage of showing upboots muddy, backs sore, hearts openand choosing each other, again and again, even when the path gets rough.
