by Martha Long
I roared laughing. ‘No, Ralph, he is just joking, you don’t take that seriously! He is always trying to get one up on you. You pair are very macho around each other. Tsk, men are so bloody childish!’ I snorted, giving him a dirty look with a half-smile.
‘No, Martha, he was serious. I do believe Jacques is quite taken with you, my love,’ Ralph said quietly, looking at me very seriously.
‘Well, then, Ralph, he has two hopes, Bob Hope and no hope at all. Even if I was interested, I would have no intention of allowing him to add me to his little harem. Besides, Lulu-Belle would scratch my eyes out if Soviah didn’t get me first,’ I laughed, getting the picture of the pair of them out for my guts. ‘Sounds to me like he wanted a bit of wife swapping! I told you that fella was a philanderer, Ralph!’ I said, looking at him. ‘But of course, he knows you well, Ralph. He sees how close we are but he knows what you are like. You will never marry, not even break your vow of celibacy, no matter how tempted. He is just being perverse, getting a laugh at your expense. He was right, look how steamed up you are! Only pity for him is he’s not here to see it,’ I said, seeing him look pained at me.
‘No, no, no, darling! He is not quite the rake he would have you believe. He is actually quite an honourable fellow! Oh, no, I do think he would want you for more than a little romp in the hay! I believe he would take you seriously. Jacques is a man of good taste, he is very discerning. I think he finds you rather interesting, an enigma. You are a challenge to him, my love. On that note, I intend keeping that chappie well away from you, my sweet,’ Ralph sniffed, lifting his chin and looking very determined.
‘Bloody men,’ I said, giving him a dirty look. ‘Ah, sure, Ralph! The poor thing is unhappy, he may need a bit of comforting,’ I said, looking at him while trying to keep a straight face.
‘WHAT?’ Ralph said, spinning on his heel, looking shocked at me.
‘Well! Remember you and Mona Lisa, Madame bleedin Butterfly, the Soviah one! Did you not say the same thing to me when I was upset about her trying to get her claws into you?’
‘Touché, darling!’ he said, coming towards me as the penny dropped.
‘Oh, well! I will be far away and well out of his reach,’ I said, sobering up at the reality of what was happening to Ralph and me as he took me in his arms, making it look like he had proprietorial rights. Hmm, I thought. Pity about Jacques! But I wouldn’t fancy being part of a squeeze in the middle between him and Soviah. One of us would end up hanged for murder. Anyway! He is Ralph’s friend. I would not hurt Ralph for the world. I would rather go back to living as a professional virgin, haunted and hunted like a Carmelite nun. Fuck! Life might still have that mapped out for me. I could curl up inside myself, still hoping and waiting for Ralph to change his mind and marry me. I even read it in a book somewhere! Oh, yeah, Miss Havisham, out of your man Dickens, left sitting at the breakfast table in her wedding frock forty years later and he still never turned up! That’s fucking me! I’ll die of a broken heart, I sniffed, me eyes crossed in disgust getting that picture. Never! You just tried and failed! That’s all, now it’s over. Time to move on, see what’s around the next corner.
EPILOGUE
‘Yes, I reached for the moon and hit the stars, but a star shines its brightest just before it fades and dies. I found my Ralph, then lost him again,’ I whispered sadly, looking back into the distance, getting the picture of my last sight of him at the airport. I went through passport control then stopped to look back at him. We both just stared. He looked haunted, mirroring what I felt inside. Neither of us waved. I lowered my head then saw him step on his heel, turn and march away with his back stiff and his head held high. I stared after him, seeing my whole world being taken away with him, leaving me once again with that old familiar haunted feeling of being cold, lost and lonely. I stood on, watching him fade away until I could see him no more. He was now swallowed up, lost in among the heavy crowd of airport strangers. Then I turned to look straight ahead, taking the loneliest walk of my life as I headed off to board that plane taking me back to Dublin and a life without Ralph.
Even now I could feel the terrible ache hitting me all over again. I will never get over him; there will never be another Ralph in my life. No, but I know now what the future holds, because I am sure of one thing. It is time for me to take another risk. So it is once more into the breach for me, yes, just once more. Because this is my last chance at making something real and positive of my life. The first time round was a shotgun wedding. That is one mistake I definitely won’t be repeating. Sergei is going to find me a hard bargain. He won’t get everything he wants – that is if he is still interested! Russian men are very dominant. They are powerful with it. It is deeply engrained in their psyche. In his society, men have their brute force and women have their subservient place behind the man. He alluded to that when he said he would not try to tame me. Hmm, that sends out a warning bell to be prepared for battle. Fine, I’ll be ready. Sergei will have to be roped in straight from the beginning. There will be no ruling me! It will be partners or the fastest banana boat back to Russia! I have now had a taste of the best. I know what life has to offer and I will keep going until I get it!
Jesus, Martha, you can be cold as a bloody fish. Yes! Why not? Life goes on. I can wear a business hat; men do it all the time. They fragment, put parts of themselves in boxes and move on to the business at hand. We women carry it all with us on a wave of emotion. That is why we miss nothing; we are more in tune than men. But I have gone through life without much love and it has made me very pragmatic. I too can batten down the hatches and move on in the interest of survival. Ralph will do that when he goes to the mission. He will switch off and all his energy will go into his work. Mine will go into building a life for my family. Making Sergei happy and hopefully our children. He will have my loyalty and commitment to that end. I won’t be looking for hearts and flowers. I will settle for a solid man who will be a good father and a strong, reliable partner. That will be enough for me. Sergei, too, should have nothing to complain about.
‘Taxi, miss?’
‘Yes,’ I said, coming through the airport doors and stepping back into the old familiar air of grey, dirty aul Dublin! I looked up at the sky, seeing heavily pregnant black clouds look treacherously close to dumping a bellyfull of rain down on my head, threatening to ruin my new look of chic sophistication.
‘I’m home, Gawd help me,’ I sighed, letting the taxi man hold the car door open as I fixed myself into the back seat. Then I nodded at my bags waiting for him on the footpath.
‘Certainly, miss,’ he said, looking very respectful as he picked up my fancy Gucci suitcases, with me giving off an air of moneyed respectability. At least I brought back something from France. A bit of French polish! I sniffed, as I looked back, trying to see out through the rain starting to pour down the window of the taxi as it pulled away from the kerb.
I had a sense of leaving something of myself behind. A woman who had reached for the moon and indeed hit the stars. For a brief time she had been deeply loved and cherished, basked in being adored as a woman. It had been a dream life of material plenty. Now that part of me is left forever in France. So, ‘C’est la vie,’ I sighed sadly, turning my head back and taking in a deep breath, then looking straight ahead as I tightened my jaw.
Right, that was French living, now for a bit of Russian, I thought, feeling a smile lift my heart as I thought of Sergei. He’s got one thing going for him: he’s worked in the loony bin. That should come in handy when he rattles my cage and I lose the head. Good! I’ll have my own private counsellor! He should be able to handle me. I need the kid-glove treatment. Lots of understanding and tender loving care. Then I’ll be putty in his hands. Grand! Things are looking up. Oh, yes, life can definitely be a bowl of cherries!
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Epub ISBN: 9781780574943
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Copyright © Martha Long, 2012
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First published in Great Britain in 2012 by
MAINSTREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY
(EDINBURGH) LTD
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Edinburgh EH1 3UG
ISBN 9781780575742
This book is a work of non-fiction based on the life, experiences and recollections of the author. In some cases, names of people and places, dates, sequences or the detail of events have been changed to protect the privacy of others. The author has stated to the publishers that, except in such circumstances, not affecting the substantial accuracy of the work, the contents of this book are true.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for insertion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast
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