The Marlows By Anne Kirya I will get the next round said Mrs. Marlow to her husband.

Yes dear, he said but only if you cancel the soda; we are after all here to get drunk. Fine, she responded then to the bar man; Whisky no soda for Mr. Marlow and a gin tonic for me...very little tonic Arnold. They had started the tradition of calling each other by Mr and Mrs early on in their marriage, it had been cute. It had also been a turn on in the bedroom but it lost that particular allure when other people started referring to them by those names. They were at Nocturnal their usual haunt. It was a small bar, about half an hour from their home. When they were there together, they took the chairs on the balcony at the window. The window allowed one to look into the bar and talk directly to the bar man. Some actually placed orders through the window but not these two. They either stood up to order at the counter or Arnold or one of the girls came to take their order. They did not bother to learn the girls names because they seemed to change each week. When they came individually, Mr. Marlow sat under the television. Mrs. Marlow sat at the counter and conversed with Arnold. Arnold had grown to admire this couple. They often went to the bar for a drink and on the rare occasion a bite. Alcohol had always been a pass time of theirs. Mr. Marlow had given Mrs. Marlow a bottle of expensive alcohol for her birthday once before they were married. This had carried on and although the price value deferred from time to time. There was still a bottle per birthday. Some was sipped only once and shelved. There was much alcohol in their home. They did not see themselves as alcoholics and quarrels over the drink rarely arose. Drink that slowly dear; lets talk about this she said to her husband. Alright, whatever you decide my dear. What should we do? he asked. To be honest Mr. Marlow, Im not quite certain either. She said. Lets write our ideas down on a paper and read them. After, lets weigh the pros and cons. Fair? Sounds quite fair Mrs. Marlow he responded. So Mrs Marlow asked Arnold for a pen, Mr. Marlow had one on him as usual, and a piece of paper. How many ideas should I write down dear? Mr. Marlow asked. Not many, you decide she responded.

His list was: Go away for holiday and think about this. Pay some money and have them take care of this Simply ignore it and see what happens ... Hers: Do what we can without accepting full responsibility Talk to them

Well my dear, you realise we are both of us in our 50s? Approaching the glorious 60. Mr. Marlow said smiling at his wife. She replied with a smile. Arnold often asked Mrs. Marlow how they had managed to stay married for so long. They looked genuinely happy. Im fed up with girls today he would lament. She would tell him that the right person would come along. He was more interested in asking Mr. Marlow what his thoughts were, being a man and all but they were not as friendly. The older man kept to himself. He was rarely seen in company without his wife. He had friends sure, but even through the wrinkles on his face one could see that he always perked up when his wife entered the room. You must have some tips Mrs. Marlow. Share your secret with me, I wont tell. Arnold said only half joking. At 30, he found that he was ready to settle down but the fates always seemed to send him women who did not see eye to eye with him on things he considered fundamentals; finances being a top priority for him. As a bar man and bar manager, he had managed to put himself through marketing school and was quite proud of his achievement. He was now ready for the next chapter in his life, preferably with his soul mate. Hmm, a secret; I have many. Lets see, we dont refuse each other anything-Im not a headmistress, unless it is called for in the bedroom. She added. When she talked about such things she said it as a matter of fact and Arnold had long since stopped being embarrassed by these remarks. They were not meant to shock, she was simply stating a fact. But love is really important. Both ways. A woman will do a lot for a man she loves but she will also do a lot for the man who she loves and who loves her back she said

As they exchanged their lists, they were seated side by side, a mini battle they had had from when they were younger. Mrs. Marlow preferred to sit side by side but he always wanted to sit across from her so he could observe her. Her actions, her eyes and they way she acted when she knew he was looking but was pretending she did not notice. This scrutiny unnerved her and they sometimes danced around a table before one of them relented. This time, it was side by side but they hardly noticed that. As Mr. Marlow looked at her list, he looked at her and said; I love you my dear she shook her head and said. Well, of course you do. I know that, but what does that have to do with anything? It had been her tongue that had attracted her to him in the first place. Back then she was called Agnes. When she had an opinion about something, she backed it all the way. Agnes was a beautiful girl but by 22, most of her friends had rings on their fingers and her parents were already getting antsy. Her father said he was not worried. Numerous suitors turned up but somehow they turned away after knowing her for a while. Her mother suggested she shut up about her opinions until she had gotten married. Her father was proud of his daughter. Agnes was only mildly concerned when her mother suggested she cut her hair. You are too beautiful my dear, men are intimidated by that her mother said this after her cousins daughter was married. Even with the bridal make up, Agnes mother said that nothing was concealed. If anything, the ear rings and red lipsticks only served to accentuate the bulbous nose and the other unfortunate bits of her face. In contrast, Agnes the bridesmaid, without a speck of makeup (lest she outshine the bride) looked breathtaking. Agness mother was objective to a fault, it was not a mothers pride that made her believe her daughter was beautiful. Agnes refused to cut her hair with a laugh you cant be serious mother but two years later and a number of previous boyfriends but still no ring had her considering it. At 26, she gave up hope of ever being married. By now, it had lost its appeal. Her friends who had walked down the aisle years earlier were now blessed with the exhausting job of motherhood and more than a handful also had to deal with cheating husbands.

Agnes was confounded when one of those husbands attempted to persuade her to become his mistress. She wondered why he felt she was not good enough to be his wife...why should she be a secret. She laughed him off and added that she would never love a man like him. He responded that this would not be about love. Herein was Agnes problem, she believed in love. Darling, pick a good man and settle down, you may learn to love him. You need the security her best friend Miriam said as she bounced a screaming baby on her knee. Agnes had believed that she and her best friend Miriam were sisters in arms until Miriam mentioned that she too was to be married. She said love was a myth and she was getting too old. He is rich Agnes she said in way of explanation. Agnes wished her the best. Now, years later at the bar, looking at her old husband, she knew the embodiment of love. Carl met Agnes in a bar. She was not talking loudly but he could make out what she was saying. It was a spirited argument about dogs. Not a dog lover himself, he listened intently as she defended loyalty over any pedigree...what point is a dog whos mother was the queen of dogs if it cant bark at a stranger? she asked a friend. It was a silly argument and would have been ignored by a bystander but Carl was amused by it. He liked her before she even turned around so he could see her face. When she did turn, she caught him staring straight at her. It was too late to turn away. On impulse, he should have looked away but he did not. She held his gaze for a while and then raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question What? he in turn smiled and shook his head to say, Nothing. He had seen enough. She was beautiful and would have made him a great companion and maybe more but it was not possible that a woman of her beauty was single. He put her age at around 27, under 30. He could see no ring on her left hand which was on her crossed leg. Maybe she chose not to wear it. He continued to stare at her in what he was not aware was a rude manner. Even though he could not see her face, he read her body language. He liked how her body relaxed a few seconds after she stopped laughing and how her hand swilled the drink in her glass. It was her friend who was in his line of sight who pointed out that the man might wish to commission a painting of her back as he could not get his eyes off it.

At this point, she was used to the occasional stare from a man but she knew that at 29, there was unlikely to be any man willing to commit. There were after all young belles being minted every day. She however, went ahead to chat with men and tease them and on some occasions go out with them for a while. Should I invite him over? I guess I will she said to her friend and to Carl, in a slightly raised voice and wide smile, Hello, care to join us? Yes, yes thank you. Im Carl Marlow he said as he stood from his seat and pulled out one at their table. A whirlwind romance is what followed. Carl did not have a lot of money but he did not spare any expense. Agnes knew the limits of his pockets and loved him all the more for ignoring them. They travelled and discovered their love in foreign places. Their love making was boundless and both were willing to try most weird things that they heard of. She had no expectations from Carl but was none the less thrilled when he proposed marriage. They were married within six months of meeting each other. Agnes father was annoyed with her mother for her uncontrollable tears on the wedding day. People might think we are at a funeral, pull yourself together. He said in church through the side of his mouth. Most of the wedding photos showed the mother of the bride with a handkerchief to her cheek. Agnes was 29 and Carl was 32. Agnes mother had long lost hope of her daughter marrying. She said the lord had delivered her child. She said all those that had laughed were now shamed. Her daughters beauty had not waned. They went to India for their honeymoon. They attended a Kama sutra class and vowed to practice all they had learnt and more. Later in their life, they practised the art of tantra. They were truly happy. Marriage was not the mine field her friends had warned her about. She did not have to trap him with requests immediately after sex as she had been advised to do. She wanted very little any way and he wished she would ask for more. At 32, she discovered they were not able to have a child; they were compatible as a couple in every way except for that. Agnes, although not very maternal, cried because she wanted to give Carl a child. Not to worry my dear, now I have all your attention to myself he said. Agnes mother searched high and low for a cure to this new curse but gave up when she saw that the two were not fazed by it. She secretly started to wonder if the presence of a child might actually lessen their love.

They travelled a lot and picked up new habits along the way. They learnt to eat their potatoes unpeeled and the art of feng shui. Their sitting room was in a state of effortless arrangement to the untrained eyes. They kept a lucky bamboo plant several rooms of the house. After some years of marriage, the flame in the bedroom dimmed but did not go out. These travels constantly added a new ingredient to their love making. In Boca Raton, they happened upon a group of polyamorous couples. While they did not believe that either could share the other, they were open to this new sexual encounter. Both engaged with different partners, the sex was good but it never grew to anything more than that. They discussed it in broad terms; How was it? he asked and she replied Nothing like you. And for you? she asked. Young people today have lost the true meaning of love making my dear. He said, to which she responded; but it is not love making my dear, it is sex. There were enough of these encounters in their marriage. Once, around their 5th year of marriage, a couple invited them to engage in an old fashioned orgy. They thought it over and declined because they lived so close to each other. It was not that they were uninterested; it was that after the act had happened, however many times, Mr and Mrs Marlow would return to the protection of their union, forgetting their lovers. Their lovers felt as a young girl might get upon discovering that a man who claimed to love her was now bored after a night of passion-rejected. For them, the sex with other partners was for the benefit of their sex life as a couple, nothing more. They thought it best to avoid the awkward silences that were bound to happen in the aisles of the supermarket if they went through with this with the neighbours, and then never called them again. The excuse they gave was that now is not a good time delivered by Mrs. Marlow with a polite smile. This extra-curricular activity did not breed any feelings of jealousy. Rather Mr Marlow had only ever felt a tinge of it when in the very early days of marriage people would stare at his wife talking. This was quickly dispelled when Mrs Marlow made it clear that like him, she loved no one else. So after over 20years of marriage when this little kerfuffle arose, they handled it as they had all others; with cool heads and drink in a glass. Mr and Mrs Marlow were not ones to judge and so did not when a young girl approached them, through a network of acquaintances, and said she

and her husband were interested in having them over a polite expression for group sex. Mr Marlow had looked at his wife and said they would discuss it. He said yes and she agreed. The young couple had one child who would be at grandparents on the said night, or nights hoped the young wife. She was eager to inject the excitement that had flown out the bedroom window with the birth of the baby back in. But the Marlows said that the plurality of the visit would be discussed later. Yes the young couple had done this before. They were not new to this. Everything went according to plan and indeed there was a repeat of the activity just one other time then the Marlows decided to move on. The young couple seemed cured of their funk and thanked the Marlows who were amused for they had not known they were providing a service. The call came four months later, the young lady was pregnant. It took Mr. Marlow a while to understand what this had to do with him. When he told Mrs Marlow about it he heard the question before she asked it. What does that have to do with us? Even though they could not have children together, they could with other people. A doctor had explained this to them but they had not been interested. They did not want to admit that they felt enough for each other. Surely it would be mean to say that the life they had crafted around each other did not have room for another, even though this other was a child. Now there was a child and a decision to be made. What would the course of action be? Mrs Marlow, why dont we think about this tomorrow? You want another gin tonic? Absolutely my dear and yes another gin tonic Mrs Marlow responded.