Pros And Cons

Opposites attract in this romantic short story by Della Galton.

How could Suzy say yes when she knew they were so different?

SUZY climbed the last of the stone steps to the top of Castle Hill and paused to catch her breath. The effort was worth it. From up here she could see the whole of the Blackmore Vale – a panorama of fields and patches of woodland dotted with farms, and closer by the spires of churches and the grey-tiled roofs of houses.

She loved this view. It was one of the reasons she had bought her semi, which she could see from here, and it was also one of the reasons she couldn’t marry Gordon.

Right now, even his name made her feel cross.

She hurried on, past the black railings that bordered Castle Hill and past the wooden board with the compass and map which told her where she was.

There was no-one else about. It was mid-morning, past dog-walker time – most of them came out at the crack of dawn – so she had the place to herself.

It was pleasantly warm. The air smelled of cut grass and summer and the sky was a milky blue.

How could she give all this up?

Gordon’s name hadn’t always made her feel cross. When they’d first met it was just the opposite.

He had joined her badminton club just over a year ago, causing quite a stir.

“He’s not our usual type,” Marjorie had told her in the changing rooms, excitement and a hint of judgement gleaming in her eyes.

“Why? What’s he like?”

Suzy had been tying up the laces of her trainers at the time and had paused to look up at Marjorie’s animated face.

“He’s . . . well, maybe it’s best I don’t say anything. You’ll soon see.”

That wasn’t like Marjorie. Bohemian had been Suzy’s first impression, which was probably a polite description.

He had silvery hair that he cut himself, a nose that was slightly off-centre and a crooked smile.

His shorts were too tight, and his T-shirt not the dazzling white attire worn by the rest of the men of Castle Hill Badminton Club.

Suzy was amazed they’d even let him come for an audition.

To get into Castle Hill you had not only to demonstrate a certain ability, but your face had to fit. Nothing about Gordon quite fitted.

She hadn’t realised how snooty the club was until she’d been there for a few weeks, and by that time she’d decided to live with it.

There was nowhere else to play around here, and they were a pleasant enough bunch if you didn’t look too far beneath the surface.

Gordon, it turned out, was the cousin of a member who didn’t come very often.

He was new to the area, and he was the best badminton player any of them had ever seen.

He was also charming, with a disregard for convention that thrilled Suzy as much as it shocked her.

He ignored pointed remarks about his attire and eventually people gave up making them.

Standards might even have dropped a little, Suzy had observed with some amusement, since he’d joined.

Gordon had stirred everyone up, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe they had needed stirring up.

Then, when he’d been coming for about a month, he asked her out for dinner.

She’d accepted more because she was flattered than for any other reason, but to her surprise they’d had a nice evening.

He was kind, attentive and funny, making her laugh like no-one else ever had.

“So how did you end up in a place like Castle Hill?” he had asked when they were on their third glass of wine.

“I chose my house for the beautiful country walks,” she said.

“And because it’s such a lovely town. It has everything you need.

“Shops, a doctor’s surgery, a dentist, a good baker . . . ” She broke off as he put his hand over hers.

“I don’t mean the practical reasons. I mean what went before? Were you ever married?

“You don’t strike me as the type of woman who would choose to spend her life alone.” He paused, watching her face.

“Have you been hurt, Suzy? Did you come here to forget?”

She struggled to collect her thoughts because he was more on target than he could have imagined. She already knew he was a perceptive man.

“I . . . er . . . ” she began. “I’m sorry. I’m not prying. Just curious.” He waved a hand.

“I tend to open my mouth before I’ve edited what’s about to come out.”

So she hadn’t told him on that first date about Control Freak Fergus, whom she’d married when she was eighteen.

“Marry in haste, repent at leisure” was a phrase that could have been invented just for them.

But she had told him later, when they knew each other better.

“How did you come to be living in Shaftesbury?” she had asked him when he told her about losing his partner of twenty-five years to a heart attack.

“I closed my eyes and put a pin in a map,” he replied. “Caroline and I had no children so there wasn’t any reason to stay in Bristol.”

A part of Suzy had been horrified. How could he be so casual about it? Buying a house was a momentous decision.

She had taken ages choosing hers, making lists of pros and cons for every the house she’d inspected.

Her decision had been based on several carefully considered factors and she was thrilled with the house she’d eventually chosen.

It ticked every box. It was on a quiet road, with beautiful views and lovely neighbours and was easy to maintain – she could go on.

Gordon’s house, on the other hand, was big and rambling and messy.

It needed a total overhaul of the electrics and – this was its worst point – was slap bang next to a main road, so that wherever you were in the house you were accompanied by the constant drone of traffic.

Suzy wouldn’t have picked it in a million years.

****

A dog ran across Suzy’s path, jolting her from her musings. She sighed and undid her jacket as she emerged from the coolness of the woods into the midday sun once more.

It hadn’t mattered what Gordon’s house was like before.

They had spent more time at hers than they had at his, but it mattered now because last week he had asked her to marry him.

“I’m not expecting you to decide straight away,” he had said, his smile even more lopsided than usual.

“I know I’ve sprung it on you. But I’d love you to think about it and let me know some time soon?”

That was so typical of Gordon, not wanting to pressurise her, but being his usual unconventional, lovely self.

It was when they’d started talking about where they would live (if they got married) that all the doubts had rushed into her mind.

“Probably best if we were to live at mine and maybe rent yours out. If you don’t want to sell it, I mean.”

He was right. It would be more practical to live at his.

He was a furniture restorer and worked from home.

He had a big workshop outside full of wood and half-built pieces, and his work tended to spill into the house.

Suzy imagined them both trying to cram into her little house, her two-up twodown, and failed miserably.

Then she tried to imagine living at his place full time without having the bolthole sanctuary of hers, and she failed miserably again.

****

“How can I marry a man who chose where he wanted to live by sticking a pin in a map?” she asked Marjorie one evening after badminton, when Gordon was off with a strained tendon in his wrist.

“You can’t,” Marjorie said promptly.

Suzy knew Marjorie was the wrong person to ask if she wanted to be talked into it. Maybe that’s why she’d asked her.

But it was a couple of days later – nearly a week since Gordon had popped the question – when things came to a head.

Suzy was at work when she heard her mobile buzzing.

“I’m calling from Salisbury Hospital,” a female voice said, “on behalf of Gordon Jameson.

“He’s had a slight accident and he’s requested that you be informed.”

“A slight accident! What does that mean?” Suzy realised her hand was shaking.

“He’s in theatre at the moment. Having surgery on his arm.”

Suzy didn’t wait to hear any more.

By the time she got to the hospital and found the ward, Gordon was out of surgery and in a side room recovering.

Suzy stood in the doorway, watching him.

He was lying on his side, facing away from her, and he had his arm in some kind of support sling.

He looked defenceless and fragile, which was not how he usually looked at all, and as she stood there she was overcome with an emotion so intense that her breath caught in her throat.

It was love, she realised, as she tiptoed round the bed so she could see his face, his eyes closed.

It was love mixed with fear mixed with anger.

The anger was directed inwards, she knew, as she pulled up a chair and settled down to wait for him to come round.

When he woke, the first thing he did was apologise.

“What do you mean you’re sorry? You’ve done nothing to be sorry for?”

She kissed his forehead while he struggled to free his uninjured hand from somewhere below the hospital sheets so he could grasp hers.

“I was pollarding a tree and I fell out of it,” he murmured.

“I shouldn’t have attempted it. My wrist wasn’t properly healed.”

“And you haven’t made it any better now,” she admonished.

“It was this one that was strained.” He squeezed her hand.

“So now I’ve got two out of action. You’ll have to move in and nurse me.”

“I will. I’ll be glad to.” What was she saying? She’d already decided she couldn’t live in his house.

She couldn’t live next door to a main road.

She couldn’t live with a man who used a pin and a map to make momentous decisions.

“Will you?” He sounded as surprised as she was. “I thought you’d decided against that.”

How did he know? Of course he would know. Mr Perceptive.

“You didn’t have quite the expression of joy and excitement I was hoping for when I asked you to marry me,” he added.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling her face burn under his gaze.

“I’ve been a complete idiot. I’ve been trying to rationalise it all. Trying to make a decision based on . . . ”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “A tick box of pros and cons.”

She stared at him and started to laugh.

He started to laugh, too, until a nurse popped her head round the door to see what was so funny.

Neither of them enlightened her.

“So are you really going to move in with me?” he asked.

“Temporarily. So don’t go getting any ideas.”

“I won’t.”

He closed his eyes, but not before she had seen the light in them. He knew perfectly well that she would say yes to marrying him.

He had always known her better than she had known herself.

But it probably wouldn’t have mattered even if he hadn’t.

Some decisions could be made using a pros and cons tick box and some decisions could be made using a pin and a map, but there were some that could only be made with love.

And they both knew that this was one of them.

The End.