Emma knew everything. Of course she did; she wasnt twenty, nor even thirty, but the weight of years pressed on her shoulders.
She was weary of being alone, of dragging that endless cart through the mist.
Lucy, why am I like this? Whats wrong with me? Am I a bore? Do I stink, or am I clingy? Or perhaps Im simply not giving enough love and tenderness? she whispered to the empty hallway.
Everyonetall, short, stout, thin, drunk, beautiful, plainhad a private life. Everyone. And she? Nothing.
Whats wrong with me? Why am I alone?
Listen, Emdont laugh, but my gran used to speak of aa crown of spinsterhood, Lucy said, her voice trembling.
Come off it, Emma waved her hand. Do we live in the medieval ages now?
Dont you believe? My thirdcousins aunt had that very crown lifted by the same old crone, Lucy snapped, hopping off her stool.
What crone? Emma asked, halfinterested, just to keep the conversation flowing.
Anyway, Ill ring Nora nowshes my sister, the one who helped take that crown off. Shell know everything.
Ten minutes later Lucy scribbled something on a napkin, her tongue flicking the corner.
Right, Nora, thanks. How are you? Getting married again? What about Tom? Oh, hes gone. Fine, Ill be there Lucy hung up, a moment of silence hanging between them.
What happened? Emma asked.
Nothingwell, actually yes. I need to buy a wedding presentmy sisters marrying for the fifth time. That crone must have been really keen on removing the crown. Heres the address. Youll come?
Emma shrugged. She went, but the crone, turning the wheel of fate, sent her back emptyhanded.
You have no crown.
Of course I do
What? The men you chose? The first left you with a child on his heart, a rogue who promised a girl but was already married.
You didnt know? Thought something was wrong with you?
Its all the samehes a scoundrel, he vanished into the hedges. Nothing to be done.
Why?
Not your concern, not your man.
The second wasnt my man either? Emma smirked.
Not yours, the crone confirmed. The third either.
What third? I have no one.
There will be.
And mine? When will he appear? Will he ever?
Hell appear when youre not lookinghell be yours, but not wholly. A girl cant change that, but trust himhes reliable, youll find your own happinessmaybe even claim him entirelyjust wait, dont rush.
Now gotell your friend she must see a doctor, give her these herbs, have her visit a gynaecologisttell her the crone asked you to pass the message.
That conversation had taken place many years earlier. Desperate to find her own womanly bliss, Emma had driven to the crone, a reputed healer in a cottage on the outskirts of Manchester.
Everything unfolded exactly as the crone had said. The third man she met, she completely forgot the crones words. He was kind, treated Emmas daughter well, but something always swooped in, theyd become distant, vanish forever without explanation.
Later Emma met Mark. At first she didnt realise it was him, the very one. The flat next door had been empty for ages. When Emma moved in with her daughter, a neighbour, Aunt Kate, mentioned the owner roamed on nightshifts, staying with his mother.
One day Emma, curious, peeked through a halfopen doorwomanly curiosityand saw a man hanging wallpaper. She slipped out, assuming the owner had returned.
They first crossed in the hallway a week later. The doors of the building were absurdly designed; opening one meant the other stayed shut until the first was closed. Emma rushed to work, tried to open the door, couldnt. The neighbour apologized, closed his flat, and Emma heard light, quick footsteps.
Later, Emma blocked the neighbours exit. They finally met on the communal landing, where the neighbour let Emma be the first to open a door.
One afternoon Mark helped Christina lift her bike; Emma baked some scones and gave them to him. In the park, Marks sonabout Christinas agejoined them, and the children raced on the swings while Emma and Mark chatted merrily.
Six months on, Mark asked Emma out, introduced her to his family. They began to live together, but first Mark laid out his story.
EmmaIm not a twentyyearold lad, nor a brute. Im a grown man with my own opinions and temperament. I promise, if you live with me, I wont be unfaithful. Ill do the hard work, help out, earn a living, I dont drink or smoke, no bad habits. Ill respect you, value youIm sorry, I cant love you the way Id likeIve tried.
No, Im not a stone, Emma. I do feel something for you, just not the passionate love you might expect.
Do you think I needed to talk to her? Emma asked, voice strained.
Ive spoken, tried to explain why we should be togethersaid I love you more than life itself. I didnt whine, just asked you to listen. Shed just split with her husband, so I.
She told him shed always seen him as a friend, even a brother. He argued love didnt matter, that she loved him regardless. She listened, then asked why hed left Inna.
I didnt love her, he said honestly.
And? Shes beautiful, smart, cheerful. You dont love her? she shrugged.
He realized shed never loved him, pinching his cheek like a kitten. He couldnt live with an unloved partner, yet somehow forced her to stay.
He later married.
No, Emma, I didnt wander like a mummy. I lived, had fun, like everyone. But whenever I thought of the woman I love, love feels like a curse. I feel bruised, unable to give happiness to a woman. Women love with their ears, dont be offended I cant lie.
I think you sit here mumbling nonsense, feeling sorry for yourself
No, Emma, I just want you to decide if you can live without fireworks, without bright emotions My wife couldnt.
Dont answer now, think.
Emma thought, then a week later she met Marks large family. They were jovial, bright, welcomed Emma and her daughter warmly. She feared theyd call her a substitute, treat her with pity, but everything went smoothly.
Emma never regretted marrying Mark; he was dependable, solved all her problems. She tried not to dwell on passion, and everything was fine. Occasionally, once or twice a year, she caught her husbands wandering glance. It meant he remembered someone, perhaps saw her, but it never disturbed their life.
Again that gaze appeared. Was it offensive to Emma? Honestly, she placed her hand over her heartwhat woman doesnt dream that a man might change for her? She wasnt married out of great love, but she grew to love him; he was the perfect husband. Yet that hazy glance lingered, a look he didnt love.
Emma? Mark called as she washed windows on a sunny spring afternoon, the sun scorching the glass. He entered the room, admiring her, feeling free, as if a bird had just returned home.
Whats up, Mark? Something happen?
Nothing, loveyou cant imagine how good everything feels.
He kissed Emma, suddenly realizing how deeply he loved her, how precious she was.
She thought, The old crone wasnt lyingshe said I just needed to wait.
Good morning, dear ones! May your love, if still hidden, flutter to your window. And if its already there, cherish it. Sending you warm hugs, rays of kindness and positivity. Always yours.
