Five Unreasonable Reasons

Equality Award
Manuscript Type
Logline or Premise
My story is set in the modern day but about the timeless topic of love. The harsh education Wendy received from her family, schooling and first love, and how the words of others impacted her decision-making as a single woman left her with little self-esteem when it came to finding a husband.
First 10 Pages

'It will take a strong man to put up with you, Wendy.'

Wendy had spent her whole life described as difficult or too much, or one of the unforgettable descriptions shared by her parents was

'You don't want one like Wendy.'

Harsh, don’t you think? Well, Wendy was one of those babies that didn't sleep, didn't stop asking questions as a toddler, didn't sit still, always dancing, and basically, before school age, she had knackered everyone out.

'Well, Maybe Mum. But how would you describe me and not them?

'A handful'. They laugh as the warmth of her mother's love envelopes her.

With a large personality, short in height, wendy, is 5ft 2 and an eighth of force though. She became a Sussex County sports player of Rugby and Stoolball; she never backed down from a challenge or adventure to improve her life and was never typically short of words. However, on this occasion, she was stumped and thought she would ask for help from others to describe her and aid her search for love, which she decided to do via an advert in the local Village paper.

To be fair, Wendy does know herself in many ways, but not in love and does not disagree with some of the descriptions and after much soul searching and discussions, she has the courage to place the advert. And some seven days later, the advert was published….. and just like everything about Wendy, it was in your face.

On her way home on a Friday, she picks up the free magazine and pours a glass of wine after a busy work week of her corporate global lifestyle.

'Bubble of the Bloody Week', Wendy laughs out loud, staring at the page.

In black and white, her call for love was solidified in a promotion called Bubble of the Week.

She phones her Mum, and they laugh.

'Be careful what you wish for, Wendy love'.

Wendy is a personality that always wants to run before she can walk and always speaks before she thinks. That's not unusual, you may think, as many a personality was born and developed as such from the council upbringing in the 70s. A latchkey kid is quite typical of the times. However, Wendy was often locked out of the house to give her family a rest or sent across the road to a neighbour when her Mum had enough of her. Ever the opportunist and always up for an adventure with her much-needed freedom, Wendy found the confines of being indoors a challenge, and her parents knew her best to let her roam free and explore.

All this freedom was soon replaced with the confines of schooling, and Wendy’s outspoken, energetic behaviour was not welcomed by the teaching profession and was often physically disciplined with various objects to be hit or excluded for her words and her ways.

Mrs Southern was her home economics teacher, and Mr Kench for maths teacher; neither teacher liked her from the first day they met her. Why? You may ask. Wendy grew up in a small rural community and went to the same schools as her siblings, who, at times, were also badly behaved and left lasting memories with the teachers.

‘You...are you the last Turner?, Thank god you are the last.’

‘I remember your Sister; I hope you will behave better Wendy.’

Oh, but no, Wendy and her overactive brain and thoughts would not learn for some years to think before she spoke. Especially when Mrs Southern used a food knife to clean out her blackened nails.

'Errrrr, Miss, you just cut food up with that knife and used it on my food.'

'That's disgusting, Miss. Don’t do that.'

'WENDY, get out of my classroom. NOW!!

Wendy got a right whack on the head, followed by the washing basket full of tea towels thrown at her and flung out of the room and sent to the headmaster's office. Mr Stephenson, or Rocket as her siblings told her to call him.

Wendy ended up on the report. Again! Her charge. Being Rude.

Change Wendy's name, and most of us can identify with Wendy or know of a Wendy. But describe Wendy as you will; she tended to be a person you would never forget. So, with her gullible smile and open heart, she went on a date with Mr Bubble of the week. As many other businesswomalen in their middle 30s want to settle and maybe even considering children.

‘Go for it’

'He sounds idyllic'

'I am so happy for you.’’

'Maybe give it a chance.'

'it is your first relationship; you will learn.'

Many of her friends and family offered varying support over the new ground she was walking through; the terrain was often bumpy because this is not the usual love story of Disney where the princess meets her prince or Wendy runs off with her Proverbial Peter, forever living their youth. This is more Shrek and Princess Fiona mixed in with Nightmare on Elm Street. So be warned that all this little love story may be the advice you need, and everyone needs a Wendy at one time or another.

'Here, I have made you this.'

Wendy isnt sure what to think as she looks at the miniature bunny in a wicker basket holding a Kinder Egg and then at Mr Bubble, slightly confused.

It's Good Friday, and they have just been on a second date with Mr Bubble.

‘It’s for you’

‘I thought I would make you something.’

Mr Bubble smiles, knowing his manners are impeccable as he walks to the door. All this was very new to Wendy as her first love was often centred around the pub and rugby, and there was no sign of a date, just five pints and rendezvous after a curry. However, now, in her 30s, she is finally beginning to understand the dating world. She returns his smile, looks into his eyes, and sees genuine affection.

'open it after I leave'.

'Thank you’

She smiles and kisses him.

Wendy shuts the door to the safety of her two-bedroom flat and feels her heart explode but is determined to learn and slowly savour the moment.

Don't rush, go slow. Don't break it.

She unfolds the carefully re-wrapped Kinder Egg.

Hours of painstaking effort and all for her.

'YELLOW GOLD!.

I cannot stand yellow, bloody gold.'

Hang on, before you think Wendy is rude and forgotten her manners. Let's not forget now that Wendy is the woman who speaks her mind, but luckily, now she lives alone, and no one has heard anything. Phew!

She picks up her phone to text, knowing Mr Bubble will be wanting a response.

He always needs an immediate response and makes sure she never forgets.

'Thank you. It's lovely.

How thoughtful of you.'

How could she be so cruel?

How could she feel so ungrateful?

She had kept her manners, but had he?

Or was he just thoughtless or didn't listen?

As she had told him two weeks before, she didn't like Yellow Gold.

The weeks turned into months as she naively continued to be overtaken by this new world and its terrain. Mr Bubble moved in, or rather he stayed and didn’t seem to leave with his continuing bombs of love. Rose Petal Baths being run as he reads her poetry, love letters left on her pillow, and all her meals cooked upon her return home at varying hours of her corporate financial career, often taking her around the world. However, whenever she got home, He was always there. A constant. She always had a big welcome smile as she entered her own kitchen full of a man that didn’t seem to work.

'Should I marry him'?

Yes, I think he will be okay.'

‘Gosh, I wish I was looked after like that.’

‘You are so lucky’

Wendy had never been loved or adored like she was by Mr Bubble. Her strong man, whom her mother said she needed, was 26 stone with a 56-inch chest. He could pull a 6-ton truck 25 meters in 19.1 secs and had many competition wins as a cage fighter. Mr Bubble's declarations and efforts were blowing shrapnel from his love bombs everywhere.

Much like others trying to settle down in their 30s or maybe at any age, Wendy and Mr Bubble were no different. In the beginning, the dates and interactions are wrapped in the vulnerability of trying to push your own boundaries and go beyond fears In the love we want to welcome into our lives.

Be warned, fellow love adventurers, this is when the manners surrounding the love bombs can do their most damage, even if the bombs are wrapped in chocolate or flowers.

'You wouldn't know; you have never been in a relationship.'

‘Be patient Wendy'

'But he does so much for you.'

'Oh gosh, I would love to be treated like that.'

Wendy and Mr Bubble hold hands as they enjoy the New Year fireworks; under the clock face of Big Ben on Westminster Bridge the chimes of midnight welcome a new year of her life with Mr Bubble.

‘No one will ever love me like I love you’

‘Will you Marry Me’

‘Yes, oh Yes, of Course’

There is so much to learn, so much to listen to, and so much advice. As Wendy's ears ring with the words of this new language, her inner radio tuning ignored the static interference of the unsettling arguments, often over the silliest things, but some of them more serious than others.

'I've lost my job'

Wendy has to have another bath as soon as she walks in the door.

She didn’t want one tonight, but still, maybe she shouldn’t be ungrateful

‘That's the building trade, and it can be erratic.’

He looks down at his feet, avoiding her eye contact again. Or was she avoiding his?

Love Bombs don't always come in one shade or stop at a specific time; they can be a multitude of gestures wrapped in overwhelming happiness, but if you look closely, they often are void of manners, frequently on the timescale of the bomber as they are in charge of navigation masking their true colours.

The advice Wendy will now give anyone at this stage is to save yourself from divorce by noticing how you make decisions and if you are listened to. Because once, maybe twice, you may let things go in your quest for love or progression in your life, but by the third time, notice if your manners are also getting in the way or if it is fear.

‘Here you go, Son’

‘You do right by her now.’

Wendy’s hard-working class father, who had never been out of work, handed her husband to be £500 in cash.

‘I will promise Sir'

Great, let's get that band we saw in Brighton?’

Wendy married in red, which was controversial for many, and she was open to many comments, even from those she loved, but she didn’t care. She saw her strong man, her Mr Bubble, he was happy, he was smiling.

He was the dream that whisked her away on his magic carpet of love.

‘I am sorry, I couldn’t get the band for the wedding day.’

‘Oh, but what about the money’

‘Don’t worry about that now?’

Why does he tell her now? Immediately after the vows. She couldn't speak out

He holds her hand tight. Her hand hurts as he chatters away so kindly to her friend, who is also the chauffeur taking them to the reception.

.

‘So happy for you’

‘Are you okay’

‘Congratulations’

‘Are you sure you are okay?’

Her Wedding day, was the worst day of her life and the days went on to be a decade of terror. Did she miss the signpost? How had she become so stupid?

Within minutes of her vows, followed by a wedding night, not of love and passion but scalded with hot water, tears and fears.

What should she do now? She had said her vows.

She is a woman of her word, albeit the wrong words.

‘Oh, it was such a lovely day.’

‘We are really happy for you’

‘Thank you for the gifts’

Wendy's brain over time seemed to be overtaken; it was so confused and exhausted that she forgot the prevalent bad manners as she was now walking on his terrain, and she could see the fields of mines ahead. Some hidden, others glaringly obvious in their intention to keep the bombs of love flying.

'You are so fat. Look at yourself, you are getting uglier.'

'Here she is, my snoring hairy monster'

'Eat this, I will make your food. Don't be ungrateful. Eat it.'

Wendy's financial career was charging ahead due to Mr Bubble's unpredictability.

She travels the world trying to go further and further afield.

What did it matter that he was not working, driving a clapped-out car, and covered in tattoos, yet still found money for more? Maybe this is how her life will be.

You see what happens in these situations, and the crazy-making behaviour of a love bomber is that in their delusions of grandeur, you become calcified by the constant kicks of dislike and intensity. You stop laughing and grow to dislike yourself more and more, and the excuses start, especially when Mr Bubble's first set of affairs appears.

'I am sorry, but you are always working, and I feel alone.'

'I feel worthless; you have a career. I want to start up my own business.

‘I want to be better for you.'

In the security of the contract of vows, unreasonable behaviour overtook cute name-calling. It turned into words of hatred as Wendy's appearance became a topic of conversation day after day after day.

She wasn't laughing with her mates anymore. She missed the joke because she became a joke to a bully. What had she done?

Where were her friends? Did anyone actually like her?

'I don't fancy going out tonight'

‘I don’t want to go out with you wearing that?’

‘Look at the state of you?’

'Stay with me, let's have a nice night in.'

'You know she talks behind your back.'

'She doesn't like you; she tried to make a move on me.'

Business Class was what Wendy continued to work towards and became her sole focus in the absence of any kindness being shown at home.

After a decade of sleep deprivation and abuse, hatred now reigned along with the daily dodging of jealousy attacks. She was trying to resolve this problem with minimal collateral damage. Isn't that what happens with bombs?

Oh, how Wendy and her ‘Strong Man’ used to laugh. They would joke at her little ways, from fidgety Wendy, or how Wendy always tripped up, Clumsy Wendy, or how Wendy was always saying silly words. But Wendy came to realise that the laughter was often about her and that it was all at her expense. Literally.

Wendy found herself in a relationship where she was paying for the fun. From holidays, days out, his career, and decorating the home. Eventually, Wendy’s brain worked out she was being controlled and abused. Some Ten years on and with a large bucket of courage. The dance was finished.

She couldn’t lie to herself anymore or anyone else. She was leaving.

‘Let me Go’

‘You don’t love me’

‘Just let me go.’

Dragged from her car after she had been punched for what seemed the hundredth time, she realised no one. Not one person was going to help her in her suburban nightmare on the street. No one. Curtains may have twitched in her middle-class estate, but the reality is that there was no one.

A decade of black cloud had hung over her world, and she lost everything she had worked hard for. Career, friendship, property, sport, and freedom- all of these were the essence of Wendy.

The anti is upped with Divorce as the next bell sounds for the fight to start with her cage-fighting strong man who now has an opponent, and he didn’t like to lose.

The fight was on.

Wendy learned that those who wish to divorce immediately, which she did for her safety. She would have to give five reasons for unreasonable behaviour to leave.

To gain her freedom, she needed five reasons.

Why five? (now, thankfully, the law has changed) but at this time,

The respondent had to APPROVE the unreasonable behaviour. Many have divorced this way and experienced the challenges Wendy now faces and why Wendy will face more. Because, when in black and white, evidence starts to appear.

Unreasonable behaviour becomes a legal term.

Wendy found herself stalked, harassed, intimidated and financially ruined to save her future. During this time, it wasn't Wendy's best behaviour either. It was often an overreaction to the intensity of the threats, calls and texts day after day for the weeks and months of legal fights that unfolded.

Wendy's learning that she passes on Is this.

If the truth in life isn't good enough, then nothing will be.

Lying to yourself when caught by the bombs of unreasonable love and fear and embarrassment take up residence in the soul.

Abused, broken, exhausted, and financially controlled, she was now free and back to her maiden name. She was Wendy Turner again, the child in her life who needed freedom, the outdoors, the love of nature, and the adventures that could unfold. Wendy didn’t care that she was on the back foot. In a rented property, all while the Respondent, Mr Bubble, remained in their three-bedroom semi with one of the women he 'supposedly' never had an affair with. She was living alone, and she was safe.

So, for all those who love adventurers, please always remember to protect your money, keep your friends, laugh and follow your own dance routine.

You never know; Wendy will show you a dance routine.

They are legendary.

Ask her mates.

Comments

Stewart Carry Mon, 12/08/2024 - 08:11

At times the style and tenor of the excerpt reminds me of a report card: 'Wendy is this...Wendy is that...Wendy was found to be...' To be honest, it's not the most effective way to hook a reader and keep them engaged and I struggled to identify a clear storyline or the direction in which we are being taken.