‘I can’t do this much longer’ Kay thought to herself as she stood up from the flowerbed and stretched. She supported her lower back on both sides with her hands to relieve the stiffness that was verging on pain. Gardening was her great love, but she was finding it physically more and more difficult. She had been widowed for five years and lived alone and so far she had succeeded in maintaining the large garden of the house in which she had lived all her married life.
Still holding one side of her back she put her gardening gloves and tools into the potting shed where for some reason the musty smell always brought her back to the early days when she was married, into which she dipped in memory from time to time to remind herself of how lucky she had been. It was autumn and the heat had gone out of the day quickly. She would light the fire as she did every evening through the winter. She looked forward to the long evenings when she brought her dinner to the sittingroom on a tray and sat beside the fire to read. Recently, however, despite her wellbeing and her comforts, she had become more and more conscious that there was something missing in her life.
Kay had discovered from experience what she had heard widows say over the years; after the death of her husband she was invited less and less to the homes of their friends and in fact some of them had dropped her altogether. She got on well with her sister Marjorie who lived a little distance away and was also a widow. Kay had always enjoyed the company of men, not in any romantic or flirtatious way, but she found their conversation, when it wasn’t golf, more interesting than that of women. She was constantly aware of one of the many wise things she had learned from Jim, her husband; that you cannot sit around and hope that circumstances or other people will make things happen for you. If you want something enough you must make it happen yourself.
In recent years in her gardening magazine she had seen columns of advertisements placed by people seeking introductions to members of the opposite sex. Naturally when Jim was alive she paid them scant attention and she never, in her wildest dreams, thought she might use them. During the past year, however, she wondered from time to time whether she might. These were not the kind of ads she had seen in a tabloid paper a workman had left behind in the house. This was a highly respected magazine read by serious gardeners and most of the ads sought companionship and to share an interest in gardening.
Kay was clear in her mind that there must be men out there who had been widowed and who would be good company, have a value system similar to her own and of course share a love of gardening. She would value the company of a man with his own house, a couple of times a week. She would have an escort with whom she could go, perhaps, to the odd concert which she had done rarely since Jim died. She even allowed herself to believe that if all went well and she met the right man she would consider a sexual relationship. She was certain, however, that she would never live with somebody or marry again. Now that she had become used to it, she valued the freedom that living alone gave her.
Kay thought that she just might try an ad. She alternated between thinking that Jim would have had no difficulty with her placing or answering one, and dismissing the idea from her mind altogether when she thought that some of her friends might find out. Recently the more she thought about it the more she felt she had nothing to lose. If she started the process she could keep her identity secret at the beginning and if she didn’t want to proceed she could simply take the matter no further.
Kay changed her shoes at the back door and washed her hands in the utility room. She lit the fire, drew the curtains and made her evening meal. She brought it to the sitting room and when she had finished she picked up her gardening magazine and turned to the ads. They were conveniently separated into two sections: men wanting to meet women and women wanting to meet men. There were many less of women taking the initiative and this didn’t surprise her. Kay eliminated immediately those who were well out of her age group and those who lived too far away. She thought it important that if she were to ‘keep company,’ and she used that old fashioned term in her mind, it sounded respectable, he should live near enough for them to be able to meet reasonably conveniently, and far enough away to be beyond the range of any of her friends. If a man was in her age group and had not been married the question arose in her mind: ‘why not?’ So as far as she was concerned this was a factor that disqualified too. She had no intention at this stage of her life training someone in or coping with their problems. She wanted to spend time with somebody who was straightforward and understood the ground rules.
To her disappointment none of the ads met her preconditions. She was determined that she would not place her own ad; she considered this an unacceptably forward thing for a woman to do. She finished her meal, brought her tray into the kitchen and rooted out two back numbers of the magazine. She found only one advertisement that was remotely possible.
‘Gentleman, south of the country, widowed 3 years after excellent marriage, would like to meet lady in similar circumstance to share occasional companionship and an interest in gardening.’
Her imagination broke loose. He was about her height, maybe an inch or two taller, round face, well trimmed moustache, grey hair brushed flat but wavy over his ears, wore tweed suits with waistcoat, a ready smile an acute sense of humour and a deep but gentle voice. She suddenly stopped. He might be shorter than she was, have a gormless face that seldom smiled, a scruffy beard, wear jeans and tell puerile jokes in a high squeaky voice. She laughed out loud.
Since the magazine was a back number she thought that somebody might already have grabbed him so she answered the ad immediately and gave the minimum of information about herself; just what she considered enough to arouse his interest. When she had sealed the envelope she felt a combination of nervousness and excitement.
Just over three weeks after she had written her letter, an envelope addressed in a strange hand came through her letterbox. This was it. Her pulse quickened and she took the letter to the sitting room and read. His name was Charles, he was in her age group, lived about 30 miles away and naturally he was a keen gardener. He enclosed a photograph. It showed him to be average height, round face, grey hair thinning and well receded at both sides. He wore a sports jacket and, she allowed, looked quite distinguished. She couldn’t believe that on her first attempt she had encountered a man with whom she would have no problem being seen in public. What he might be like in private remained to be seen.
Kay thought it discreet not to reply for a week or ten days on the principle: ‘keep him guessing,’ and what’s more he hadn’t replied to her in a hurry. She wrote back but, despite being glad that Charles had sent a photograph, she couldn’t bring herself to send one to him. For her, photographs were personal and any photo she might have sent had particular associations with her life to date. She felt that this venture was an entirely new development and if it worked she would be quite happy in time for their liaison to have associations and photographs of its own.
Their first meeting was arranged for the foyer of a hotel roughly half way between where each of them lived. As the day approached Kay alternated between anxiety and excitement. She knew that, although she could not have had a happier marriage with Jim, the old saying was true: ‘there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it.’ In over 40 years of marriage she had come to terms with all of Jim’s little idiosyncrasies and irritating habits. She thought she would find it hard to do the same all over again with a new man. Then she reminded herself that Jim had had to come to terms with all of her deficiencies too. If this venture were to work Charles would have to do the same, but this was jumping the gun. Her immediate hurdle was to turn up for the assignation.
Kay chose carefully what to wear. She did not want to present too formally nor too casually. She wore her blue figured dress of fine denim material, her green coat with wrap around belt and Cuban heeled shoes. She drove to the hotel, making sure to arrive ten minutes late, parked, at the door took a couple of deep breaths and went in. She looked around the foyer and immediately saw Charles sitting beside a low table wearing a trench-coat. He stood up as she approached and they shook hands.
‘I’m glad to see you,’ he said, ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’ They sat down.
‘What would you like?’
‘Tea would be good, nothing to eat, thank you.’
Their initial conversation was the traffic and the weather, but they were soon on to gardening. Each described their own garden and particular gardening interests. The conversation in the circumstances was relatively easy. After the best part of an hour with only a couple of awkward silences Charles said:
‘Would you like to meet again? There’s a new play on in the theatre here and it’s neutral territory.’
‘Thank you, I would enjoy that, but can we be clear that it’s Dutch.’
‘We can work that out later, but please allow me to get this’
Charles paid for the tea, they fixed a date for the theatre and he walked Kay to her car. She was greatly relieved as she drove home, that there had been no embarrassment of any kind and all had gone well.
Kay had no difficulty about her plan to meet Charles again. He was none of the things that she would have found difficult, and she looked forward to their next meeting. The evening arrived and they met in the theatre foyer. They had gone beyond the handshake and hadn’t yet arrived at the kiss on the cheek. Charles greeted her with:
‘Hello, I’ve collected the tickets.’ They took their seats and chatted easily before the play started and during the interval. At the end they both agreed that the play had been good. They went for one drink, which Kay insisted on buying, and leaving her at her car Charles kissed her on the cheek and said he would phone.
As she drove home Kay was happy with developments so far. Charles was considerate, interesting, had an acute sense of humour and above all he listened carefully to what she had to say.
The following week, true to his word, Charles phoned. After some small talk he suggested a meal out. Kay agreed and she chose the restaurant and booked the table, but she was anxious that Charles should not see it as the cliché of the romantic candlelight dinner. It was clear to her that he didn’t: they talked mainly about their past lives and about gardening and Kay arrived home having enjoyed the evening.
As the weeks and months passed Kay was more and more at ease in Charles’s company. They inspected each other’s gardens and had meals in each other’s homes. Kay allowed that Charles was every bit as good a cook as she was, if not better. She was happy that she had done the right thing, but she was determined not to bring Charles to meet any family or friends until she was absolutely sure. She did, however, tell her sister Marjorie, whom she trusted, about Charles and how they had met. She did so primarily because, so happy was she that she thought that Marjorie, who had been widowed longer than she had been, might do the same.
Marjorie thought long and hard about it and eventually decided, like Kay, that she had nothing to lose. If she answered an ad she could pull out in the early stages without any loss of face. Unlike Kay she had no qualms about placing an ad herself. She believed it put her more in control and this is what she did. As it transpired she was less reticent about the whole process than Kay had been. She received three replies and selected the most likely amongst them. As it turned out, however, when it came to meeting the prospective companion she was infinitely more nervous than Kay had been.
The meeting was arranged for a hotel not far from where Marjorie lived. She asked Kay to go with her for moral support and a short while after she had gone in, Kay would go into the lounge and sit at a table at a distance. The day arrived and Kay drove. When it came to it Marjorie was so nervous she almost decided not to turn up. She said to Kay:
‘You’ve probably met the only decent available man in the county.’ Kay reassured her that she needn’t reveal her identity or take it any further if she didn’t want to.
Marjorie went into the hotel and ten minutes later Kay followed. Immediately she saw Marjorie over beside the window; so far, so good. She sat at a table near the door and ordered tea. Marjorie seemed to be having a fairly normal conversation, but the man had his back to Kay. She didn’t like to stare but from behind he reminded her of Charles. When she had poured tea she looked again and was dumbfounded, she had no doubt in the world that the man was Charles.
Kay stood up and walked over to the two.
‘Marje, may I introduce you to Charles?’
‘Charles, this is my sister Marjorie.’ With the fright Charles half stood up and fell back into his chair. He stuttered:
‘There has been some mistake, I thought .......’
‘Come on Marj, it’s time we were gone.’ Marjorie stood up and the two women marched out of the lounge. Kay looked back. Charles was still sitting there, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.
Going home in the car Kay and Marjorie alternated between anger and relief. They fumed and they laughed and decided that as they had both been lucky in love first time round they would abandon any further attempts to succeed a second time.