But you do understand, darling Allie, that people like you aren’t the ones they marry,” Arseniy said calmly.

You realize, Ella, that no one marries a girl like you, says Arthur calmly. There are women for romance and a good time, and there are those who keep themselves until the wedding. Unfortunately, youre not one of the latter.

Whats wrong with me, Arthur? I cook well, I look wonderful, my house is spotless. As a woman Im exactly what you want, isnt I? Ella asks, surprised, looking at the man she thought was her lover.

Thats the trouble! Youre already ruined. Understand this: people like you never become a wife. They only have casual flingsno commitments. Marriage is for virginal girls, the kind youd be the first for, ready to wash a husbands feet and drink his water, as the proverb says. Arthur, pleased with his final remark, turns to the wall and sighs.

A week earlier Ella sits in a London café with her friends, spilling plans about how life is finally falling into place. Shes thirtyno longer a teenagerbut she has a career, a flat, a car, looks stunning. She could marry and have children. Moreover, theres a perfect match, almost straight out of a dream. Arthur has never been married, lives alone, although he bought a flat next to his mother. Fourteen years younger, handsome, wellgroomed, almost free of nasty habits, and he holds a senior position. Pure luck.

They meet at workhe comes to her for a dental appointment and leaves with a crush. Ella at that time works long hours in both a public health centre and a private clinic, so personal time is scarce. Then he brings flowers, not the usual roses but peonies, in February. He books a restaurant and everything spirals.

Only one thing nags her: its been two years of dating and he still hasnt proposed. Her friends hint that its time for Ella to marry. She feels it too, so she finally brings it up at nightand hears herself called ruined, not marriage material.

It doesnt sink in. What does he think he is allowed to say?! The next evening Ella meets her friends again at the café, looking for advice.

Imagine, girls, Ella begins, he told me Im no longer the one! That men like me never get married!

Are you serious? Kate gasps. Youre gorgeous, smart, independent!

He says only virgins get married, and Im supposedly thirdrate, defective. What do I do now? Hes perfect otherwise: intelligent, has money, great in bed.

Ella, dump him before he shatters your selfesteem, Liz snorts.

Better still adds Kate bring him over to our place! Mike and I are celebrating our tenyear anniversary. Let him see what a real family looks like.

They decide to invite him. Arthur, who usually avoids such gatherings, surprisingly agrees and even drives himself. Ella already anticipates a pleasant weekend with the gangshe wont have to drive anyone home.

At Kate and Mikes country house the atmosphere feels homely: children running, barbecues, birds singing, and Buddy the dog dashing around as if powered by an invisible battery.

The feast stretches from early afternoon to evening. The older guests drift away, the kids go to bed. Around the table remain the inner circle the friends, the hosts, and Arthur.

They sip tea with berry scones, chat, and then Arthur launches his spiel again:

Tell me, Kate, why is Ella still single? Youve been married ten years.

Not everyone falls in love on their third year like me, Kate shrugs. Ella was studying and working, had no time.

Did you marry as a virgin?

Are you kidding? Kate laughs. Mike and I have been together since university!

But he was your first?

Do you need to see our marriage certificate? Mike snaps. Im his wife, period.

See? She was pure. Thats respect. Marrying a woman whos been with several men is a disgrace to the family!

What sort of noble lineage demands a spotless past? Liz jokes. So why did you ever give Ella hope?

I promised nobody anything, Arthur shrugs. Your friend should understand shes a secondrate woman. Marriage needs serious reasons, and I see none.

So Im thirdrate, divorced, with a child, Liz grins. Poor you, sir. You and your pedigree.

How do you talk to the women in my house? Mike growls. Sorts are his! Youre an oldfashioned herring! He grabs Arthur and drags him outside. Its easy; Arthur is two metres tall and solid.

Get out! I wont let you ruin the celebration. If it werent for the girls, Id have knocked you flat long ago. Youre not a guest.

Ella, Im leaving. Are you coming or staying? Arthur declares proudly, snatching her bag.

Ella bursts into laughter, unable to answer. Before she can react, Arthur slams the gate shut and drives off.

Thanks, Mike, Ella giggles. Thats it! No more men! Not even an oldfashioned one!

Bad idea to enlighten him about marriage, Kate smiles. What a character! Girls, hear that? Im firstrate! And you look how it turned out.

Jokes carry them through the whole evening. Later Liz drives Ella home. Life returns to the usual rhythm of patients and filling out medical notes.

Arthur never calls again.

EllaDavis, theres an envelope on the reception desk, says the receptionist, Lenora.

Thanks, Len, Ill look at it later, Ella replies.

Finishing her shift, Ella opens the envelope. Inside