Lina Was a Bad Woman. So Bad, It Was Almost Sad—Poor Lina, Just How Bad Could One Woman Be? Ever…

Lydia was considered quite dreadful. Utterly dreadful, truth be told it was almost pitiable how terrible people thought Lydia was. Everyone tried to let her know just how awful she was; dreadful and, whats more, quite unhappy.

Naturally, there was no husband, and her son was grown and living off on his own. There was Lydia, on her own, needed by no one. Shed arrive at the office on Monday morning, while her colleagues boasted of their ceaseless chores the scrubbing and sweeping that had filled their weekends. Some had slaved away in the garden, some making jam, each eager to recount their domestic heroics.

Lydia, however, kept silent. What had she to share? No husband, her child had flown the nest, and so she would simply keep her peace, teeth clenched behind a tight-lipped smile.

Now and then, shed ask to leave early only once or twice a month, nothing frequent but her coworkers knew what to think. Theyd exchange knowing glances, shaking their heads in judgement. Everyone was convinced Lydia slipped away to meet one of her many supposed lovers. They were sure of it after all, Lydia was a dreadful woman, wasnt she? The other women congratulated themselves on their virtue; married ladies, all busily occupied, while Lydia, in their eyes, was simply dreadful.

Oh Lydia, her mother would sigh. Why must you be this way?

In what way, Mother?

So unsettled. Couldnt you find yourself some nice man? Honestly, my dear daughter, its not too late, even to have a second child women have babies past forty these days.

Mum, why would I want just any man? Why should I have another child by any random fellow? Ive my son Henry is enough for me. And a man, as you put it why do I need one? What on earth should I do with him? Anyway, Ive got Oliver.

Oh, Lydia! her mother cried. Stop this at once! Oliver is not your husband.

How is he not? Lydia laughed. He asks me out every week, brings gifts, pays for my holidays, doesnt nag, doesnt send me to clean his mothers cottage, doesnt expect me to do his laundry, never demands supper, never buries himself on the sofa, never troubles me with his worries.

Utter bliss, Id say.

Exactly! All the trouble goes to his poor wife.

And youd rather she had it than you?

Mother, please. Im in my early forties, been married twice let me remind you, twice and ran from that supposed bliss as if the hounds of hell were on my heels.

My first husband, Henrys father, if you recall it was because you insisted I marry so young, barely eighteen. Older, so wiser, more reliable, you said. He loved me, respected me, was well-off, as you liked. Five years I lived under lock and key couldnt study, couldnt see friends, barely allowed to raise Henry on my own. My only duty was to him and his mother. Ah, yes, but at least I had gold, you always said. Hed parade me around like some prize creature once a month to show people how proper a wife he had.

That didnt stop him from chasing after those doll types himself. And when I left and filed for divorce thank God, for Grannys help he wanted everything back, down to my last pair of knickers.

My second marriage, well, that was for love do you remember, Mum? I worked by day, studied like mad to make up for lost opportunities, and worked evenings so as not to be a burden on you or Dad…

Oh, Lydia, how could you suggest you were ever a burden? Did I ever begrudge a single slice of bread or plate of soup for you and my grandson?

Maybe not you, Mum, but there was still Dad and there was Philip my brother still sponging off you, never settling, because why bother? He had you. You worked two jobs, dashed home to feed two hungry chicks Philip sprawled on the sofa, Nick at his computer. You cooked, cleaned everything for everyone.

I tried love and marriage again, but what changed? Nothing. Life became even heavier. I used to be Lydia, became instead Lydia-Who-Owes-Everyone. My beloved would lie on the sofa, Lydia slaved at work, then dashed to the nursery to fetch my own child for heavens sake, dont burden the man, even if the child was his. Not a mans work, you see, and goodness knows the man mustnt grow weary. Id stopped for groceries, bundles in my arms, no car (of course that was for him he couldnt ride trams to work, could he?).

Home: cook, serve dinner, do the laundry, iron and make sure to please the husband, lest he stray for affection elsewhere, the precious thing. Not enough money? Well, thats your child needing, not his, unless its his own little heir in that case, perhaps hed lift a finger. But otherwise, find some other fool to support your kid.

If I refused to pay for repairing his car, hed say, So what if its your car? Were a family, arent we? Compare salaries, as if my work was nothing.

And if I dared walk out, hed scoff Wholl want you, a woman with a child? So, Mum, Ive been with one who earns more, one who earns less. Its all the same. It always suited everyone else only I suffered for it.

Lydia, its how everyone lives, darling, Mother would say.

Well, let them live that way, Mum. I dont want to.

How was your Saturday? her mother would ask.

Oh, you know Philip and Sarah left their two with us, I took them to the park, made pancakes, wiped and hoovered a bit, did the laundry, tucked the children in, fed Dad, did some ironing, finally lay down after midnight. Morning came, they wanted more pancakes, so I played the part again. Then Philip and Sarah arrived I roasted a chicken, made salads, baked a pizza. Saw them off, tidied a bit more, and conked out on the sofa by eleven. Dad woke me to shuffle to bed.

Funny, Mum, but I cant recall you ever volunteering for Henry. I never dumped my child on you to dash out bright-eyed for a rest.

You were always so independent, Lydia not like these ones. Oh, words fail me

Would you like to hear how I spent last weekend, Mum? Friday night, Henry rang would I take Toby for the weekend? They wanted to go hiking. Of course I agreed why not? Toby, by the way, is Marinas cat Henrys girlfriend. If you werent so busy with Philip and his brood, you might actually know what your eldest grandson is up to.

So, the two of them dropped off the cat and pizza for me as thanks. I curled up, devoured half a pizza, and watched a detective series all night. No early start needed, after all.

I rose late, fed Toby, brewed myself a nice cup of tea, dusted, tossed a few things in the washing machine. Thought Id ring you to invite you to a museum or a natter in town. Dad answered, said you were busy and called me lazy, insisting it was scandalous how he and you worked themselves to the bone while I played lady at museums.

I meant to be cross, but figured whats the use? Hes always right. Anyway, I went to see the exhibition you loved so much, then sat at a café, strolled the shops, fell back to mine where I found the cat content and asleep and then collapsed with my show.

By Sunday, Toby and I had a lie-in, and I almost rang to invite you on a river cruise, but Sarah answered apparently you were busy cleaning again. That evening Oliver called, invited me to dinner, so I said yes. Why shouldnt I? Im a free woman I dont pester him about his wife or their business; we dont get tangled in each others problems.

I had a lovely evening, slept well, started Monday full of energy.

I tried dating single men, Mum. Absolute disaster. Either needy lads looking for another mum or men aggrieved by their ex-wives (first, second, sometimes third!), each with a brood in tow. One even informed me Id be obligated to love his children because, well, being a woman, I was surely born to. Hed pay his support and his exs way, because whatever she was, she was their mother. As for living expenses, hed use my income his spare cash would go to fishing, his great hobby. At least, he said, hed feed me delicious trout in exchange.

I asked if hed help my son, and he was absolutely scandalised. Henry has a father its his job to help him. Fair enough, really, so he was shown the door. Henry has a father, yes, but he also has me his mother.

So yes, Mum, now Im the dreadful one. Selfish, calculating, shrewd. Some claim Im just looking to offload my child onto a poor bloke and live the easy life.

And so, Mother, thats how Oliver came into my life. I may be the villain in everyones tale now, but Im not ashamed of how I live. What pains me isnt for myself, but for you which is why I keep trying to pull you out of the house, even if I do bend the truth to make you come out with me. Today, for instance, I lied to say I needed your help but in truth, Mum, I just wanted your company.

Im fine, Mother I promise. And now well have a day for ourselves, you and I. You can spend a little while doing something for yourself, with your daughter.

Youre mad, Lydia what about your father?

What about him? Is he ill?

No, but lunch

I refuse to believe you havent something ready in the kitchen, Mother.

It needs warming, and besides, Philip

Mum! I might just get upset now Let me be the good one for once come and rest with me, please, Im begging you.

Back at work on Monday, the women exchanged tales of how tired they were from their restful weekend. But Lydia only smiled slyly. Everyone knew Lydia was the dreadful one as she walked with a spring in her step, a secret smile playing on her lips. After all, everyone could plainly see that Lydias thoughts must be up to no good.