It was simply a matter of waiting.
Jane knew everything. Of course she did she wasnt twenty any more, not even thirty
She was tired of being alone, of shouldering that endless load.
Lydia, why is it always me? Whats wrong with me? Am I boring? Do I smell? Am I clingy? Or perhaps Im just not giving enough love and affection. She muttered to herself. Whats wrong with me? Everyone else the tall, the short, the skinny, the stout, the drinkers, the gorgeous, the notsogorgeous all have someone. Everyone. And I have no one. Whats wrong with me? Why am I single?
Listen, Jandont laugh, but my gran used to talk about a thing I cant quite namea crown of spinsterhood.
No way, Jane waved her hand. What, are we living in the Middle Ages?
Dont believe me? Lydia leapt from her chair. My thirdcousins aunt swore shed seen that crown, the old crone lifted it off her.
What crone? Jane asked, flatly, just to keep the conversation going.
Anyway, Ill ring Emma, my sister the one who lifted the crown off my aunt and find out everything.
Ten minutes later Lydia was scribbling on a napkin, the tip of her tongue sticking out. All right, Emma, love. Hows it going? Getting hitched again? What? And Harry? Oh, hes gone. Right, Ill be there She hung up, paused, then said, Somethings come up.
What? Jane asked.
Nothingwell, actually something. I need a wedding present my sisters getting married again. Fifth time! That crone mustve been really keen on taking that crown off. Heres the address. You coming?
Jane shrugged. She set off, but the crone, twisting her arm, sent her back emptyhanded.
No crown for you, the old woman said.
How could that be? I
What? Youre picking the wrong lads, dear. The first one was a scoundrel with a kid in his heart who fled, promising the girl he was already married. Did you know? He was a rogue, never meant for you.
The second one? Jane smirked.
Not yours either, the crone confirmed. The third wasnt either.
The third? Ive got no one.
No, not that way
And when will *my* man appear? Will he ever show up?
Hell appear when youre not lookinghell be yours, but not entirely yours. Youll have to trust him; hes reliable, and youll find your own happiness with him. Maybe even have him all to yourself just wait, dont rush.
Now off you goand tell your friend to see a doctor, give her some herbal tea, and pay a visit to a gynaecologist. Tell her the crone said so.
That conversation had happened years before. Desperate to find her own happiness, Jane had once driven to the old womans cottage in the Cotswolds. Everything the crone said turned out true.
She met the third man, but the crones words slipped from her mind. He was decent, treated Janes little girl well, but something always seemed to go wrong, and hed disappear without a word.
Then Jane met Yuri.
At first she didnt recognise him. The flat next door had been empty for ages. When Jane moved in with her daughter, the neighbour, Aunt Kate, mentioned that the owner was a nightshift worker who only turned up now and then. One day, curiosity got the better of her, she peeked through the slightly ajar door of the neighbours flat and saw a bloke putting up wallpaper.
Jane slipped out, assuming the owner had returned. He did and kept coming back.
Their first real encounter was in the corridor a week later. The flats doors were oddly designed: opening one meant the other stayed shut until the first was closed again. Jane was late for work, tried to open her door, and it wouldnt budge. The neighbour apologized, shut his flat, and Jane heard swift, light footsteps. A second time she blocked his exit, then they finally met on the communal landing, where he let her be the first to go through.
One afternoon Yuri helped Kristine lift her bike, and Jane baked some scones and handed them to him. Later they met in the park; Yuris son, about Kristines age, ran off with the others on the swings, while Jane and Yuri chatted away. Six months later he asked her out, introduced her to his family, and they moved in together. Before that he spilled his story:
Jan, Im not some twentyyearold lad, Im a proper man now, with my own opinions and character. I promise, if you live with me, I wont cheat, Ill do the traditionally male chores, help out, earn a living, I dont drink or smoke, no nasty habits. Ill respect you, cherish you Im sorry, I cant love you properly, Ive tried.
Its not that Im a stonecold block, I do feel something, just not the kind youd expect. Im not the perfect husband, my ex called me a terrible bloke. Im spilling all this because I dont want you thinking Im a drama queen.
He went on about a youthful crush on a girl who felt warm next to him, how it never worked out, how she only ever saw him as a friend. He wondered if Jane should have spoken to her. Did you ever think I was a deer in the headlights? I tried to explain, love you more than life itself, but she only ever saw me as a brother. He paused.
Then she asked why I split with Inna. He answered honestly, I didnt love her.
Thats fine, she shrugged. Shes pretty, smart, funny you dont love her, she loves youwhats the big deal?
He realised shed just nudged him with her nose like a kitten, showing she didnt love him. He couldnt live with someone he didnt love, yet hed tried to force it.
Later he married.
Yeah, I didnt just wander around like a mummy, I lived, had fun, like everyone else. But thinking of the one I truly love feels like a curse. For some love is a gift, for me its a punishment. I feel hollow, cant give a woman happinesswomen listen with their ears, dont get angry, I cant lie.
He sighed, I just want you to decide if you can live without big, dramatic feelings. My wife couldnt. He urged her not to answer straight away, to think.
Jane thought it over, and a week later she met his big, boisterous family. They welcomed her and her daughter warmly. Shed been nervous, fearing theyd see her as a replacement, or treat her with pity, but everything went splendidly. She never regretted marrying Yuri; he was reliable, sorted her problems, and she tried not to dwell on passion. Occasionally, once or twice a year, she caught her husbands wandering glance, perhaps remembering someone, but it never disturbed their life.
Then that gaze returned, a cloudy look that bothered her. Is it rude to feel hurt? she wondered, placing her hand over her heart. Of course any woman dreams a man might change for her. Shed married not for a blazing love but out of habit, and eventually grew to love him he was the perfect bloke. Still, that hazy look lingered, and she didnt love it.
One spring morning, Yuri stood by the kitchen window, washing it while the sun baked the garden. He sang softly to himself, and then stepped into the room, admiring his wife.
He felt free, as free as a bird, having finally met his true love, content just to be there. He turned to Jane, who was humming while polishing the glass, and said, You wont believe how wonderful everything feels now.
He kissed her, realising at last how much she meant to him. Im not fooling the old woman, Jane thought, she did say just wait.
Good morning, my dears! May your love, if still unfound, flutter through your window. And if youve already caught it, look after it. She sent out a warm hug, a ray of goodness and positivity.
