top of page

The Woman in Crisis-The Friend’s perspective

We met in the Pakora Bar on Argyle Street. As we waited for the our order, Terry looked a bit anxious, but I said nothing. After what seemed like hours, the food arrived, and we got stuck in. Wondering why Terry had asked to meet me, I enquired after her two daughters, and her husband John. Terry looked at me, tears threatening to flow. ‘Let’s eat first, then we can talk,’ she said.

I was aware that Terry and John were having problems, but I attributed it to the pressure of having two toddlers and both of them working full time. But then again, John is a selfish son of a bitch, going to the pub after work, forgetting that his wife has work to go to. I often wondered how Terry put up with him. Sometimes I wanted to tell her to leave him, that she’d be better off without him, but I never did. Who wants to hear their friend say that?

The waiter brought another drink; I waited. ‘Cathy, can I ask your opinion on something?’ Terry whispered, in a barely audible voice. I nodded and gave her time to speak.

‘Do you think I should stay with John, purely for the children?’ She said,

looking sad.

I told her that I would support her, whatever she decided, and asked what has caused her to feel this way.

‘Last week, he didn’t come home to let me get to work, and I had to ask Pauline and her husband to stay with them. He turned up drunk, and vomited everywhere. Pauline stayed all night, until I got home. It was so


I asked her if she was serious, and she nodded. I felt relieved that she reached this decision alone, and I assured her that I would support her every way I could. How she put up with it for so long, is a mystery.

11 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

Passing acquaintances

They moved in ten years ago, seems like yesterday. Two children later, one dog less, they’re moving on to pastures new. Urban living doesn’t meet the need to park three cars together. We should know,

The kindness of strangers

The here and now is what really matters, I hear you say. Live for the moment, soak it all up.I mean, you might die tomorrow, never wake up You strut as you walk, not paying heed to the man begging for

Melancholy blues

That heavy head feeling you get, compounded by the despair and gloominess that crept in. Silent, invisible, yet palpable Post-bacterial blues, long after the sore throat has gone away. It just sort of

1 Comment

Dec 10, 2020

Sad tale ... but better for Terry

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page