Eleanor had seen it all. Of course she knewshe wasnt in her twenties any more, not even in her thirties.
She was weary of bearing the load alone.
Lucy, why is it always me? Whats wrong with me? Am I a bore? Do I stink, or am I too clingy? Or perhaps Im simply not giving enough love and tenderness. She asked herself, looking at the bustling streets of London, at the polished gentlemen, the stout drinkers, the pretty ladies and the plain ones, each with some sort of private life. Everyone seemed to have a partnerexcept her.
Listen, Elliedont laugh, but my gran used to whisper about a crown of spinsterhood.
No, thats nonsense, Eleanor brushed it off. Are we living in the Middle Ages?
Dont you believe it? Lucy leapt from her chair. My thirdcousin once had that very crown lifted by a crone in the Cotswolds.
What crone? Eleanor asked, halfcurious, halfindifferent, only to keep the conversation going.
Anyway, Ill ring Nora nowshes the sister who helped lift that crown. Ill find out everything.
Ten minutes later Lucy was scribbling on a napkin, her tongue flicking the edge.
SoNora, thanks. How are you? Getting married again? What about Gareth? Ah, thats settledright, Ill be there. She hung up, paused.
Whats happened? Eleanor asked.
Nothingwell, actuallyanother wedding gift to buy. My sisters tying the knot for the fifth time. That old crone must have really taken the crown off her. Heres the address. Fancy a trip?
Eleanor shrugged. She went, but the crone, after a few turns, sent her back emptyhanded.
Youve no crown.
Of course I do
What? Youre picking the wrong men? First one left you with a child in his heart, a scoundrel who promised a girl yet was already married.
You didnt know?
You thought something was wrong with you? Its just that he was a rogue, disappeared into the hedgerowsnothing more, his life unraveled.
How?
Thats not your concern, not your man.
The second wasnt mine either? Eleanor smirked.
Not yours, the crone confirmed. The third either.
The third? Ive no one.
Youll seewhen you least expect it. Hell be yours, though not wholly. A lass cant change fate, but trust himhes steady, and with him youll find a mothers contentment. You might even win him completely, but you must wait, not rush.
Now off you goTell your friend she needs a doctors visit, give her these herbs, and see a ladydoctor. Tell her the crone sent a message to stop meddling.
That conversation echoed through the years.
Desperate for a glimpse of feminine happiness, Eleanor journeyed to the crone, a wise woman living in a thatched cottage near Bath. Everything the crone said came true. She met her third lover, yet the crones words faded. He was good, treated her daughter kindly, but something always shifted; theyd become pensive, vanish without a word, as if fleeing forever.
Later Eleanor crossed paths with George. At first she didnt recognise him; he was the man from the vacant flat next door that had stood empty for years. When Eleanor moved in with her little girl, no one lived there; the neighbour, Aunt Kate, said the owner roamed on nightshifts, staying with his mother. One day, curious Eleanor pushed the slightly ajar door and saw a man pasting wallpaper. She slipped away, assuming the owner had returned.
The first week they collided in the corridor. The doors of the flats were oddly designedopen one, the other stayed shut unless the first was closed. Eleanor, hurrying to work, tried to open her door and couldnt. The neighbour apologized, shut his flat, and Eleanor heard light footsteps. Later she blocked his exit, then they met again on the communal landing, where he let her be the first to go through.
One afternoon George helped Katherine lift her bicycle; Eleanor baked scones and delivered them. In the park, Georges son, a lad about Katherines age, raced them on the swings; the children bonded instantly while Eleanor and George chatted merrily. Six months on, George asked her out, then introduced her to his family. They moved in together, but before that he confessed his story.
Ellie, Im not a twentyyearold lad, nor a brute. Im a man, an adult with my own opinions and character. I promise, if you live with me, Ill be faithful, do the hard work, earn a decent wage, and youll never have to fear my drinking or smoking. I have no bad habits.
He went on, Ill respect you, cherish youthough love is a strange thing for me. Ive loved before, once as a boy with a girlbut it never worked. She saw me as a friend, I tried to push her from my heart for years, in vain. Ive had other womenprettier, smarteryet nothing felt right.
Should I have talked to her? Eleanor pressed, voice trembling.
Hed think Im a fool, a wretched husband, George sighed, laying out his heart. I told her I loved her more than life. Shed just broken off with her husband then, so I listened. She said shed always seen me as a brother.
She asked why hed left Ivy.
Honestly, I didnt love her, he said. She was lovely, bright, funnywhy not? But I couldnt live without love, and for me love feels a curse rather than a gift. I feel battered, unable to give a woman happiness; women listen with their ears, I cant lie.
He ended, I just want you to decide if you can live without grand passions. Think, dont answer now.
Eleanor thought, then a week later she met his large, jovial family. They welcomed her and her daughter with warmth. She feared theyd see her as a replacement, treat her with pity, but everything went smoothly. She never regretted marrying George; he proved reliable, solved her problems, and she tried not to dwell on longing. Occasionallyperhaps twice a yearshe caught her husbands wandering glance, a flicker of the past, but it never disturbed their life.
Sometimes that look bothered her, though she admitted, If I place my hand over my heart, who doesnt dream that a man might change for her? She had married not for a grand love but grew to love his steadiness. Yet that faint, clouded look lingeredshe didnt love it.
One spring morning George stood at the kitchen window, sunlight scorching the panes, humming softly as he washed them. He turned, admiring Eleanor, feeling free, as if meeting his longlost love.
You alright, George? Something on your mind?
Nothing, he replied, dancing lightly from the sill, twirling around the room. Everythings fine, Ellieyou cant imagine how good it feels.
He kissed Eleanor, finally understanding how deeply he loved her, how precious she was. Eleanor thought, The old crone wasnt wrongjust wait.
Good morning, dear ones! May your love, if still unfound, flutter to your window, and if its already there, cherish it. Sending you warm thoughts and bright sunshine, always yours.
