Just As I Am by Sarah Swatridge

No matter what everyone thought, I was content with my life . . .

I’D gone from an empty diary, where my sole purpose was to be there for Barry, to one so full my friends complained I was never in. And all in under two years.

Some things I’d chosen to do, like the local health walks. Others I’d drifted into. One of these was joining the slimming group. I didn’t really need to lose much weight but I wanted to encourage Heather, my neighbour.

She was very grateful and kept teasing me that she’d find me a Hot Date in return. I didn’t take her seriously and always laughed, because the last thing I wanted was a date.

Things snowball. The leader of the slimming group, Belinda, was busy setting up a new website and wanted to show off what an enthusiastic group we were.

“I want pictures of you walking and running, even if it’s only up a few stairs.”

She was always so positive that I wanted to help, so I told her about the health walks I do.

“I’ll get them to take a photo of me on Monday and I’ll send it to you,” I suggested.

Her face lit up, but she didn’t stop there.

“I’ve got the keys to the tennis courts on Friday morning. Who’s coming?”

Everyone studied their feet.

“Oh, come on. All you have to do is hit a few balls or even just hold a racquet so I can take a few pictures.”

Still no-one raised an arm, so I ended up volunteering for that, too.

“I can’t stay too long,” I told her.

****

I hadn’t held a tennis racquet since school. The first shot I actually hit flew up into the air and over the fence into the field.

Fortunately there was a man walking his spaniel. He lobbed it back with a cheery smile.

Unfortunately my next attempt not only went over the fence, but the ball also hit the man on the shoulder. Then the spaniel ran off with the ball.

“Don’t worry,” Belinda said. “I’ve got a few photos. If you get the ball back, bring it to the next session. Thanks for being so supportive. I know Heather’s grateful.”

With that she locked up and I went over to apologise to the dog walker.

“I’m really sorry about your shoulder.”

“No problem.” He smiled again. He had big sorrowful eyes, much like his spaniel. “I’m afraid Sasha has rather taken to your tennis ball. I usually just throw her sticks, so this is a real treat.”

“Keep it,” I told him and kneeled down to make a fuss of Sasha. “The least I can do is buy some new ones for Belinda. She tries so hard to make us more active.”

“Thanks. Sasha will be your friend for life. I’m Will.”

I stood up. I guessed he was about my age and probably retired, too.

“Sue,” I said and held out my hand. It seemed a bit formal in the middle of the park but he shook my hand anyway.

“I haven’t noticed you playing tennis before.”

“Probably my last time!” I laughed. “It was just for a photo shoot for Belinda’s slimming website.”

“You don’t look as though you need to slim, but I’ve found walking keeps me trim.”

He bent down and scratched Sasha’s ears. She looked up adoringly.

“I often do the health walks,” I told him. “But I haven’t got a dog to make sure I exercise on a daily basis.”

“Well you’re welcome to walk with us any time, isn’t she, Sasha?”

He smiled again and this time I thought that perhaps his eyes were kind rather than sorrowful.

“Sue!” Heather shouted from the car park, waving her arms.

I waved back, but wanted to continue my conversation with Will.

Heather made her way towards us. To my embarrassment, she totally ignored Will and made an announcement.

“I’ve got you a date!” My mind went blank. I thought of the dried fruits you get at Christmas and was puzzled.

“A friend of a friend

mentioned him. He’s a widower and very nice.” I experienced one of those horrible moments when I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole.

“I thought you were joking, Heather,” I managed to say. “I don’t need a man. I’m happy just the way I am.”

No sooner had I uttered those words than I became aware of Sasha by my feet. She spat out the tennis ball and rushed off.

To my dismay Will followed without a backward glance.

It wasn’t Heather’s fault. She was happily married and only wanted the same for me.

“Just come and meet him,” Heather said at the next weigh-in. She was feeling rightly proud of herself for losing a few more pounds.

“What exactly have you told him?”

“Nothing at all yet. But we’re having a small get-together at the weekend and I’d like you to come.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” Heather begged. “If only to make sure I eat carrots instead of cake.”

After much arm-twisting I gave in. I knew it would do me good to get out on Saturday night.

Besides, there wasn’t much on the TV.

David was tall and a little awkward. He’d been widowed for many years and admitted being set in his ways.

“It’s easy to get like that when you live on your own,” I told him.

We spent most of the evening chatting about the books we’d read and how the area had changed over the years. He’d even met Barry once, it transpired, at a business lunch.

“I always go into the town centre on a Thursday morning,” David said as the evening was drawing to a close. “If you’re around, perhaps you’d care to join me for lunch?”

As it happened, I was going to town the following week. I had an optician’s appointment on Thursday morning and I’d enjoyed his company tonight, so I agreed to go to lunch and we arranged a time and place.

Heather was thrilled and kept dropping David’s name into the conversation. I soon wished I’d never mentioned our plans.

Belinda gaily handed out awards at the slimming group. Both Heather and I had lost weight.

I’d reached my goal and did feel better for shedding a few pounds.

“You’re welcome to keep coming so you don’t put it all back on,” Belinda told me.

I enjoyed the class. There was always a lot of friendly banter and much laughter. Besides, I’d promised to be there for Heather and she was doing so well.

I was delighted I didn’t need new spectacles when I visited the optician and I realised I was looking forward to a nice lunch with good company.

Once again David and I found much to talk about. He’d been a pharmacist and I’d been a nurse so we moaned about the NHS and sang its praises just as heartily.

Having put the world to rights, we ordered coffee. I couldn’t help noticing David stirring his Americano for at least a minute without adding any sugar.

“I’m not looking for a wife,” he said at last.

I didn’t know how to react.

“Having said that,” he continued, “I have enjoyed your company, and if you ever want to share the occasional meal, that’s fine by me, but I’d rather if we didn’t make a habit of it.”

“That would be great,” I told him. “I think Heather’s been keen to do some matchmaking but I’m happy just as I am.” “Are you?”

“Of course I am,” I replied, perhaps a bit sharply. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, but I don’t mind my own company at all. Of course I miss Barry, but I manage to keep myself busy. I’ve got lots of friends and several interests.”

“And that makes you a very interesting person to talk to,” David told me as he finished his coffee. “But, forgive me for saying, I’m not convinced you are as content as you’d have the world think.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” The man had only known me for five minutes; how could he know how I felt?

Despite my reaction, David’s words stayed in my head. Was I happy? Content?

I made sure I was too occupied to give myself time to question.

It felt good when I could help a friend by giving her a lift to the hospital and to visit another neighbour who was post-op.

By the end of the week I concluded that yes, I was happy. It felt good to be able to help others and to know I was surrounded by friends who could lend me a hand if and when I needed it.

I realised I was lucky to live in my small community where we all looked out for each other. I enjoyed the fact that I couldn’t go out without bumping into someone I knew.

More often than not we’d have a little chat and I’d be left with a sense of belonging. I was content with my lot.

I would tell David that he was wrong the next time I saw him. What did he know about what went on in my life, and what right did he have to give me all these doubts?

Yet, as I sat flicking through the channels on the TV on Saturday night, wondering if I could find anything I wanted to watch, I was filled with a sense of loss. In the past Barry and I had enjoyed a simple game of cards or Scrabble.

I did miss having someone around to chat to without having to make an appointment with a friend for coffee.

Once or twice I bumped into Will and Sasha. Sasha always greeted me like an old friend, especially when I brought her a new tennis ball.

Will was more reserved, but today he waved a bag at me and asked if I wanted to come and feed the ducks.

“I haven’t done this since I was a child.” I smiled, watching them squabble.

“I come up here quite often. My wife loved the swans.”

We looked over to the bank. There was a solitary white swan with two rather large cygnets which looked about old enough to be leaving the nest soon.

“She’s a single mum,” Will explained, nodding his head in the direction of the adult.

“I thought swans mated for life. Is that a myth?”

“No, it’s true. She lost her mate about the same time as I did.”

“And soon she’s going to lose her young,” I added, a little melancholy.

“I dare say she’ll have more next year. Swans do mate for life, but if one dies they often find a new partner, just like us humans. It’s a little-known fact, but true.”

“I didn’t know that,” I told him. “Perhaps there’s hope for us all.”

Will turned and smiled at me. I noticed that today his lovely spaniel eyes were twinkling. n

My friend didn’t realise I was quite happy as I was What made this man say that I wasn’t content?