Ive always thought of Mabel as a bit of a throwback, the sort of girl who still dreamed of a proper marriage. These days most women seem happy to settle for a single sausage rather than a whole pig in the kitchen. Sausages are everywhere now all kinds, all sizes and cohabitation isnt considered a scandal any more. Moral codes, pride, and the old notions of honour have all but vanished.
Even the onceshunned Oblomov is no longer a bad character; after all, he was regularly sent money from his estate, living like a rentier. If you handed a smartphone to Ian, hed instantly be labelled a successful vlogger whos got it all sorted.
When it comes to family life you can do as you like: meet in hotels, book a room by the hour whatever the market has conjured. Theres even the idea of a guest marriage without ever stepping into the registry office. Who knows what might surface after a wedding? In the old days a missing sock or a botched cabbage soup was a catastrophe; now we dread infantlike dependence, mumisms and chronic nothingeverhappens among the lads. And the same nothingeverhappens haunts the ladies, aside from their love of mirrors.
Both sexes now throw all sorts of demands at each other, not just bread and spectacle youre expected to earn your own loaf. And, of course, theres shopping.
Mabel was a pleasant exception: pretty, with no modern tuning of body parts, a university degree, a decent job and a respectable salary. Yet men seemed to ignore her, marching past in tidy rows, coupling with others and stepping straight into the same old traps.
Dont think she never had suitors she was certainly attractive but nothing ever got as far as the registry office, and she was already nudging thirty. Back in the days of the welfare state theyd have called her a lateblooming mother; nowadays a woman in her fifties is still considered young.
Mabel didnt want to have a child on her own. She also trusted horoscopes more precisely, astrological forecasts believing they were the clever inventions of opportunists looking for an easy way to swindle cash. In the tough times, the predictions were all sunshine: On Tuesday morning youll meet a tycoon who will change your destiny. So she kept a toothbrush handy, just in case his intentions were serious.
She looked for a partner whose sign matched hers. She was a Sagittarius, a fire sign. Aries and Leo also belong to that element, with Sagittarius being the most placid of the three.
Her first great love struck in the first year of university an age now dismissed as nurserylevel, those eighteenyearold whippersnappers. They did understand a thing or two about where they were heading, though sex education these days is far from what it once was. So, go mind your own business with your pollen and stamens weve long been past that! the old textbooks would say.
Then came the creative block. She had to pay the bills, the bus fare, and buy food. For the first time she realised she had to shop for her own groceries instead of raiding a communal fridge. Her parents had previously supported her, but living on her own meant two peoples wages didnt stretch far enough.
Her flat a gift from her grandmother on her sixteenth birthday became a point of contention. Arent you the one wholl buy the groceries? her boyfriend asked, genuinely puzzled. Why me? she replied. But the fridges yours, and Im not the landlord, Dave explained, his logic flawless. If thats the issue, Mabel snapped, Ill hand you full authority run the house as you see fit!
Predictably, the lad vanished, stopped greeting her, even though they were still in the same tutorial group. As a Sagittarius, it seemed a perfect coincidence a bit of a cosmic joke.
Mabel was heartbroken; she loved Dave, after all, her first serious boyfriend. Youth and time, however, moved on, and a second steady fellow appeared when she was in her third year. He wasnt from the same university hed been out sailing, as they say.
Simon was well over thirty, already divorced, and declared, Well get married, love! He claimed he had serious intentions. Yet he had no stable job. This was before the newfangled health crisis and special operations that later made life even more tangled. Still, his life was riddled with permanent setbacks: being sacked, dealing with impossible bosses, and a cruel work schedule. He even complained, Im starving, Im starving what should I do? while staying at home, expecting Mabel to foot the bill for both of them.
She timidly suggested, Could you at least work as a courier? He boasted, Im an analyst! Can an analyst be a courier? she asked. Drive and analyse, love I bought food with my last few pounds yesterday. Ask your mum then! Say were in a temporary pinch! Ive been telling her about the temporary pinch for two months now! Time is a terribly long thing, he quoted Mayakovsky, flashing a selfsatisfied grin. What do you think of my erudition? Be happy, love, youve snagged a proper lad!
Mabel replied, Then dont ask me for food! She added, Since times have changed, get moving! She was not only clever but also quickwitted.
Who are you telling to move then? Yuri a Capricorn, noted for diligence and reliability snapped. You just suggested it to me? Hed never been the one to dump a lady before. No, I offered it to Mayakovsky! Mabel retorted. You can both go together; let him feed you now.
That insult was beyond what any decent fellow could bear. After all, a Capricorn is supposed to be one of the most hardworking signs a good reason to believe any horoscope.
The third suitor, Len, also believed in the stars; theyd met on an astrological forum, and their chats blossomed into genuine affection. Yet Len kept calling their signs zodiacs in a pretentious way. Why do you twist the words? Mabel asked. Oh, come off it! he laughed. Its funny!
She thought of her wise grandmothers words: You cant expect everything to run smoothly without me. Their banter was littered with mangled words like Snerdourka, stervadessa and Dubina Regovitsky instead of proper names, spilling from his mouth nonstop. He fancied himself a wit at fortyone, while the twentysixyearold Mabel grew increasingly irritated.
Both had good jobs and were free; Simon had an adult son. At first, the lad was shy, then he settled into his usual routine. A scandal erupted when, in front of Mabels grandfather a former MI5 officer the fiancé called the notorious Russian revolutionary Dzerzhinsky Zherdin. He laughed at his own joke, prompting the old man, of Polish descent, to shriek, Jesus Christ! Get out of here, you wretched thing!
The episode happened at a family gathering where they were already presenting themselves as bride and groom. Their plan to head to the registry office fell through. Len turned out to be a Taurus earth sign like the Capricorn and Tauruses are notoriously touchy.
Then Mabel met Peter, a man without a single irritating trait. Divorced, childfree, goodlooking, not poor, educated, with a solid sense of humour, and living in a tidy onebed flat. He was also thrifty, a true Virgo, another earth sign known for carefulness perfect for a future together.
They applied for a joint tenancy; Peter moved in and started renting out his own flat. He asked Mabel to register him at her address. Why? she asked. Youre already registered at yours! I only need it if I had no address at all, which today would be impossible. What for? Peter wondered. We love each other, were a family, so everything should be shared! He recalled a joke: Write your flat over to me, please! Oh, sorry, wrong start do you believe in God?
Soon love turned into the practical side of things. Alright, Mabel said after a pause, youve spoken well of love, family and sharing, so Ill register you and youll register me. Where? he asked, baffled. In my flat everythings ours now! But you dont live there! he protested. If thats the only issue, lets alternate months: one month in mine, the next in yours, Mabel suggested, already feeling the emptiness of the plan.
Peter fell silent; nothing clever came to mind. So? the bride pressed, eyeing his onceimpressive face. It seems sensible. Registering a stranger in your flat felt strange, yet he imagined it might work out eventually.
Peters previous marriage had ended badly; his ex was a difficult woman. He was painfully greedy and mercenary about money. Both of them were at a loss for how to proceed; pretending nothing had happened was no longer an option.
Mabel left the kitchen for the bedroom while they dined, leaving Peter to untangle his thoughts. After about fifteen minutes he returned and, as if nothing had changed, asked, Mabel, shall we go to the cinema? Sure, she replied, and he breathed a sigh of relief hed already paid a deposit for a restaurant.
She added, So, will you register me, Pete? Im not sure we finished that bit. He looked away, shuffled his feet and walked out. She didnt stop him; at least the wedding didnt go ahead, and their conversation died before any official paperwork.
Is that how it goes for everyone? Some do marry. Two of Mabels three friends have tied the knot one lasted six months, the other a year. The third, like a punchline, drifted off quietly.
Mabel herself ended up with a few civil partners, each lasting over a month, and there was love in each case. But love, as they say, isnt just feelings; its deeds and actions. In the end, none of those men truly loved her, as the saying in a less friendly land goes, no fools there.
Mabel, now past thirty, stopped hunting for a husband. Shed been promoted at work, swapped her grannys onebed flat for a twobed, bought a foreignmake car, and taken a short holiday. She concluded that life had worked out nicely. Moreover, the childbearing age has stretched to sixty now, so she could still have a baby for herself if she wished, with sausages aplenty lying around.
