I recollect, as if from a faded diary, the days when Mabel was a modest lass, yearning ever so keenly for marriage. In those times most young women seemed not to crave a husband; after all, why haul a whole pig into the home when a single sausage would do? Sausages of every sort and size now littered the market stalls, and cohabitation without vows had become as ordinary as a cup of tea, no longer the scandal it once was. Back then, however, honour, shame, pride and propriety still clung to society like a wellknit shawl.
Even the oncereviled lazy aristocrat was no longer a villain, for the family estate sent him regular stipendswhat a comfortable rentier! And if one handed a modern smartphone to a gentleman like John Ilyich, he would instantly be hailed a successful blogger who had made his way in the world. As for marriage, the current creed was live as you like: rendezvous in inns, in hourly rented flatswhat a modern invention! A guest marriage could be arranged without a trip to the registry office, for who could know what might emerge after the vows? Once, a misplaced sock or a failed cabbage soup was the height of tragedy; now, more dreadful spectres loominfantilism, maternal coddling, and a chronic inability to take responsibility among suitors. Women, too, complained not merely of bread and spectacle, but of the endless shopping that seemed to consume every penny.
Mabel was an exception, pleasant and unadorned, lacking any of the fashionable augmentations that now bedeck many people. She was educated at a reputable university and held a respectable post with a decent salary. Yet, for reasons beyond her comprehension, the gentlemen passed her by, marching off in tidy rows to bind themselves to others, stumbling over the same old traps. It would be false to claim that Mabel never met a man; she was, after all, a pretty thing. The problem was never the registry officetheir paths simply never crossed. And she would soon be turning thirty, an age once deemed the prime of womanhood in those oldfashioned days, now stretched out to sixty for young mothers.
She would not bear a child alone, and she clung to horoscopesmore precisely, to astrological forecasts. Those forecasts, she thought, were the clever invention of shrewd merchants, concocted merely to line their pockets. In those uncertain times, every prediction seemed positively radiant: On Tuesdays first half you shall encounter a destinychanging meeting with a magnate! Thus she kept a toothbrush at the ready, for perhaps his intentions were serious.
Mabel, a Sagittarius, sought a partner whose sign matched hers. The firesignsAries, Leo, and Sagittariuswere her domain, with Sagittarius deemed the calmest among them. Her first great love blossomed in the first year of university, an era now likened to toddlerhoodwhat could those eighteenyearold whippersnappers truly understand? They did grasp the basics of desire, yet modern sex education differs greatly from the old lessons; now one is urged to go to the woods with your pollen and stamena cheeky nod to newfound openness.
Then came the creative block. Bills for utilities, fares, and meals demanded payment, and Mabel discovered she must purchase food herself rather than pilfer from a communal larder as before. Her parents had once provided her allowance; now she lived alone, and two peoples wages never sufficed. Her gentleman, Victor, was surprised:
Willnt you be buying the groceries? he asked, genuinely puzzled.
Why should I? Mabel replied, bewildered.
But the fridge is yours, and Im not the master here! Victor explained, his logic oddly sound.
If its only that, Mabel said cleverly, Ill hand you all the authoritymanage the house as you see fit!
Predictably, Victor vanished, ceased greeting her, even though they shared a class. A Sagittarius, after all, is a firesignsuch coincidences were nothing short of fate. Their registryoffice plans crumbled, yet Mabel still clung to hope. She loved Victor; he had been her first love.
Youth, however, takes its toll, and a second steady suitor entered her life during her third year. He was not from the university crowdhe floated in a different current. Samuel was well over thirty, divorced, and declared, We shall marry, my dear! Though love knows no bounds, Samuel lacked steady employment. This was before the modern malaise of precarious gigs and special operations; the countrys troubles were yet less tangled. Yet even then, his life was riddled with permanent hardships: being tossed out, absurd demands from superiors, unbearable schedules. He subsisted on the houses provisions while she hunted for workboth felt the weight of scarcity.
Perhaps you could be a courier? Mabel ventured shyly.
I am an analyst! he boasted.
Can an analyst not be a courier? she reasoned. Drive and analyse, as you wish I spent my last shilling on food yesterday.
Ask your mother! Say were facing temporary difficulties! he retorted.
Ive told her the same for two months now! she replied.
Time is a remarkably long thing! he quoted Mayakovsky, flashing a proud grin. What say you to my erudition? Rejoice, for you have snared a fine fellow!
Mabel pressed on, Then do not ask me to feed you! She added, Since the olden days are past, hurry and pack your bags! Though erudite, she was also quickwitted.
What do you mean pack your bags? Samuel cried, shocked. You suggested that to me? It was the first time anyone had turned the tables; previously, he alone had abandoned ladies. No, I suggested it to Mayakovsky! Mabel snapped. You may both golet him feed you now.
Such an affront was beyond what a respectable gentleman could endure. Samuel, a Capricorn, was famed for diligence and reliabilitystill, the horoscopes would have you believe.
The third suitor, Leonard, also trusted the stars; they met on an astrological forum, and their chats blossomed into genuine affection. Yet Leonard persistently mangled the word zodiacWhy do you keep twisting it? Mabel asked.
Its funny! he chuckled. You see, Im all set without you! She recalled her wise grandmothers words, Youre not needed for my plans. Leonards speech was peppered with odditiesSnedurucha, stervadesa, and Dubina Regovitskaya replacing Regina Duboisa cascade of nonsensical neologisms that he considered witty. At fortyone, his antics annoyed the twentysixyearold Mabel, though otherwise they were content. Both held good jobs, were free, and Samuels exhusband even had an adult son.
Initially Leonard was shy, but soon became fully engaged. A scandal erupted at a family gathering when Mabels grandfather, a retired MI5 officer, heard the groom refer to the poet Zhukov as Jerdinsky and burst into raucous laughter. By Jove! he shouted, his Polish roots evident, Out with you, you blithering fool! The scene unfolded at the weddings rehearsal; their union never materialised.
Leonard, a Taurus, grounded like a Capricorn, proved the most touchyhearted sign. Then Mabel encountered Peter, a divorced, childless, handsome, modestly wealthy, welleducated man with a sharp wit and a tidy onebed flat. He was frugalborn under Virgo, another earth sign, famed for thrift, perfect for a domestic partnership.
At last it seemed love might finally settle. They filed the necessary paperwork; Peter moved in and rented out his previous flat. He asked Mabel to register him in her address, a modern courtesy.
What for? Mabel queried. Youre already registered at your own home! Id understand if you had no registration at all, for today thats essential. But why now?
Peter, equally puzzled, replied, We love each other, and now were a family! Everything should be shared! The remark recalled an old joke: Transfer your flat to me, please! Oh, I beg your pardondid you ask if I believed in God? Yet love had already set the scene.
Its right, Mabel answered after a pause. You spoke well of love, family, and togetherness, so Ill register you, and youll register me.
To where? the groom wondered.
In my flatour lives are now one! Peter declared.
But you dont live there! he protested after a thoughtful pause.
If thats the only point, lets alternate residence: a month in mine, a month in yours! Mabel suggested, though disappointment tinged her tone; she sensed a hollow echo in the arrangement, a fish without water.
Peter fell silent; no clever retort came to mind. So what now? he asked, eyes still bright. Seems a sensible plan! Mabel replied, though the notion of registering a stranger in ones home felt oddly foreign. Had he ever imagined being listed at his future spouses address? Perhaps, in a different era, such a thing would have been simple.
Their onebed flat, once shared with a first wife who had left, now felt the sting of Peters stinginess and greed. Both sat mute, unsure of the next step. The old wayspretending nothing had happened were no longer viable.
Mabel left the kitchen for the sitting room; they were dining, leaving the gentleman to untangle his own thoughts. After fifteen minutes, Peter stood and asked, Mabel, shall we go to the pictures?
Lets, she replied, and he breathed a sigh of reliefno longer angry, for he had already paid the restaurants deposit.
She added, So will you register me, Peter? Im not clear on what we left unsaid. He averted his gaze, shuffled, and walked away. She did not stop him; at least they had not wasted a weddings expense, and he had begun conversation before any official union.
Were all such tales alike? Some friends of Mabel did marryone for half a year, another for a yearwhile a third, like in a joke, slipped away quietly. Mabel herself, too, had spent more than a month with several civil partners, and love was present, albeit more in deeds than in lofty sentiment. As the saying goes in a certain unfriendly land, There are no bad people. Though she sometimes found herself with less-thanideal partners, they were all similarly flawed.
Eventually, after passing thirty, Mabels desire for marriage waned. She earned a promotion, upgraded her grandmothers modest flat to a twobedroom house, bought a foreignmade car, and took a short holiday. She concluded that life had treated her well. Moreover, the fertile age now stretched to sixty, granting her the chance to bear a child for herself if she so wished. Sausages, once scarce, now overflowed the market stalls, a fitting end to her oncelonging tale.
