she’d read an article that said while older and middle-aged men typically went for younger women, both older women and younger women often fell for middle-aged women
sadly, there wasn’t a sapphic bone in her body
the women’s magazines Penelope now read argued that women should not define themselves by a male partner, that to depend on a man was a sign of weakness
all quite different to the magazines she’d read as a young woman, which advised the opposite
she tried to be happy food shopping for one, happy to go to sleep alone, happy to wake up in an empty bed, happy that building site workers no longer wolf-whistled after her (to think she’d once objected)
happy to look at her middle-aged body in the mirror without pulling a face, because the female form should be accepted in all its different shapes and sizes, shouldn’t it?
Penelope wanted to embrace self-love and self-acceptance
getting rid of the full-length mirrors in her home was a good start
she should also be happy at work seeing as she’d lost her first marriage over her right to do it
at first she’d enjoyed teaching the disadvantaged children of the area whose parents had an inter-generational history of paying taxes in this country, even though she knew most of them wouldn’t go on to great things
a supermarket till for the ones who were numerate, a typing pool for those who were numerate and literate, further education for those who could pass exams sufficiently well
she felt a sense of responsibility towards her own kind, and didn’t like it at all when the school’s demography began to change with the immigrants and their offspring pouring in
in the space of a decade the school went from predominantly English children of the working classes to a multicultural zoo of kids coming from countries where there weren’t even words for please and thank you
which explained a lot
she loathed that feminism was on the descent, and the vociferous multi-culti brigade was on the ascent, and felt angry all the time, usually at the older boys who were disrespectful and the bullish male teachers who still behaved as if they owned the planet
the type who used to patronize her when she’d started the job years ago, to the point of tears
who never included her in their conversations except to look at her tits
she’d have to sit there silently being objectified along with the other young female teachers and the posters of topless models plastered on the noticeboard in the staff room
just as some of the female pupils were harassed by male teachers who groped them, and honestly, did anybody take it seriously when girls complained that this male teacher had stroked her breasts, or that male teacher had smacked her on the bottom, or another male teacher had put his hand up her skirt?
she knew of two males who’d had ‘liaisons’ with female pupils
and got away with it, they all got away with it
the male teachers
would head off for a pint in the Green Dragon after work, never thinking to invite her or any of the other teachers who had a womb
the male teachers
who made decisions before the staff meeting began so that the rest of them were presented with a fait accompli, without a hope in hell of catching up on decision-making conversations begun at lunch or in the corridors or over the telephone the previous evening
it took her years to realize she wasn’t being slow and stupid, she learned the hard way to shoehorn herself into debates, to force them to explain exactly what the hell they were talking about, to hold them to account
she learned the hard way to crush any opposition to the ground, especially young upstarts like Saint Shirley the Puritanical of the Caribbean
as she described her in her diary
Shirley was barely out of her teaching probation when she took a pot shot at Penelope at that staff meeting all those years ago – at the only woman in the school who dared stand up to the men
why didn’t Saint Shirley attack one of the male chauvinist pigs who pontificated ad infinitum instead of a strong woman who’d brought petitions into work for both the Equal Pay Act and the Sex Discrimination Act, both of which were eventually passed into law
improving the situation for all working women
she should be admired and respected by her female colleagues
it took her a long time to forgive Saint Shirley but when she did, the became friends, work friends.
5
Penelope
went home from school each evening to her Golden Retriever, Humperdinck
always there for her, always eager for a cuddle, who’ll listen to her for hours without interruption, who whimpers when she leaves the house, greets her as soon as she steps back in the door, jumping up for a hug
Humperdinck was named after her favourite crooner from the seventies, Engelbert Humperdinck, the tanned sex-bomb still oozing so much charisma she can barely contain herself when he appears on television, his teeth glittering like polished pearls
so much sexier, in her opinion, than his nearest rival, Tom Jones, the famous pelvis-thruster with the big voice from the Welsh valleys
she also reconnected with the Sisterhood, her college friends who were sympathetic enough to overlook the fact she’d barely had anything to do with them when she was married
Giles only liked to surround himself with fellow boring engineers and their (house) wives, she told them, while Phillip’s milieu was pseudo-intellectuals and their drippy Save the Planet spouses
she admitted she’d lost the me of myself and was subsumed within the we of marriage, relinquishing even her surname
Penelope Halifax who became Penelope Owsteby who became Penelope Hutchinson before reverting back to her maiden name
which wasn’t really hers in the first place
(she kept the shame of that to herself)
they went to their favourite health spa in Cheltenham twice a year for what they called their Detox/Retox Weekends
to indulge in sisterly conviviality while getting massages, facials, saunas and delightfully tanked with the wine they smuggled in
for their drinking sessions in the suite furthest away from the uptight spa staff in reception
who thoroughly disapproved of people actually having fun
Penelope
was secretly relieved when a gal pal’s marriage collapsed too, because then she didn’t feel so awfully, terribly alone
they could go to the theatre and cinema together, enjoy meals out and art exhibitions, holidays at her authentically rustic cottage in Provence, spa trips to the Alps and Thailand
her daughter became a great support to her after the end of Marriage Number Two
her best friend, as Penelope often reminded her, and not only when she’d had a drink or two and phoned her in the early hours
Sarah never hung up on her, not once, I’m here for you, Mum, and please don’t do anything stupid, please
Penelope didn’t have the suicidal gene, and it upset her that her daughter thought otherwise
Sarah had boyfriends, but not fallen in love yet, perhaps because she’d seen how that played out with her mother
she talked about having children and said, Mum, the day I have kids is the day I give up work, I don’t want to be a working mother
that’s fine, Penelope reassured her, and meant it
all she wanted was for her daughter to be self-fulfilled
at this point in her life, feminist politics can sod off
look where it got her?
Giles paid the children’s university living expenses, and thus became their favourite parent
it saddened her when they didn’t give her preferential love when she’d been the parent who raised them