Mary and Martha

Mary and Martha had long been friends, the best of friends and some even said sister. Mary could not see it herself. She had always been quiet, plain, mousy and shy. Martha had been taller, even when they were kids, blonder and more popular. They met on day 1 of school, at the canteen in fact when they had both reached for the last muffin. Mary remembers touching Martha's hand by accident. 'Mine' Martha affirmed, trying to grab the muffin from the cabinet, ' Finders, Keepers' said Mary, lowering her gaze as if she were not worthy of looking directly at Martha. 'Ok, let's share. where are you sitting' said Martha.' I..err… well, I am not..' she tried to utter, with Martha grabbing the muffin and Mary, it seemed, over to the yard. 'Lets sit here' insisted Martha. From that day on, Mary had no regrets. They looked very different but didn't opposites attract ? Every day they found each other through high school and sat at the same spot, almost glued in their friendship.

University soon followed after all those falls and summers, sitting in the yard. They seemed never to tire of each other. When they left their hoem towns, Mary went to study Biology and Martha studied Sociology but she did not have any interest in school. Her interest lay in money and she seemed to have a good business head. Mary was always looking at plants, trees, insects and dissecting these in her mind. She could lever seem to just enjoy the whole of an object. She was curious about what made up a tree, the bark, the roots, the leaves, the cells, photosynthesis, chlorophyll and the effect of sunlight on growth and nature. But Martha had other plans. She wanted to just get through university without really doing any work at all. She knew she was attractive, some even said beautiful but she would never comment on her appearance. She made the most of what she had and what she had was great. The boys seemed to think so too. With that in mind, she went out with the geekiest boy there was, Norm. He was gangly, tall, wore glasses and dungarees which had not bene in fashion since the 70's bt he either did not care or did not know. W thought he just had no style at all and next to Martha, he looked like a caveman, all teeth, sticky out ears and auburn, non-descript hair. His redeeming feature was his intellect. He was brainy and had a good sense of humour, isn't that what women like, apparently ? It seemed to work for them. After a few years away from each other, the girls lost touch and seemed to move in different circles. Mary eventually married her university sweetheart. Did she love him ? She was not sure, but he was loyal and so was she. She had ever even thought about not accepting his proposal, after all, everyone assumed they would marry, so why not ? Mary became a regular house wife and tended the house as best she could. It pleased her husband after all and he mother's advice was that in order to have a happy marriage, she had to put her husband's wishes above her own. His had been the idea of them getting married in secret, no guests except the cleaner and janitor. It was his idea she stay at home and look after it, just like his mother had done. It was his idea they try for a baby, although nothing had happened yet. Mary had almost forgotten her identity, her dreams, who she used to be and she even forgot about biology. Why had she studied, she asked herself, only to stay at home and tidy up things that were not messy.

After a year of marriage and looking at the walls, Mary decided to look up Martha and see how her life had transpired. She picked up the phone and Martha was in, she was in luck. 'Hey, is that Martha, Martha Brownlow ?' A sweet voice, the sounds of honey dripping from a hot spoon, trickled down the receiver.'Yes, who is this, do I know you.. no.. wait, is that Mary, Mary Ryan.. is that you ?. Mary could not contain herself. She talked incessantly about the old days, school, boys they knew who had married or not, boys Martha had dated from the home town. Eventually, it seemed, Mary had overcome her shyness after all. They arranged to meet.

Martha had missed Mary. While she may have looked the more popular one, the louder one, the one at parties, she had changed over the years. Her beauty was still evident and men still held open doors whether she wanted to go through them or not. She had never married and had decided to do a little job on the side. A job she hid from both friends and family. There was no shame in her work but some people might think her smutty and while she was still beautiful, and single and carefree, she did seem to care what people thought. When the time came to see her friend, she drover 2 hours to the address. Mary had done well for herself, a house that was 5 times the size of Martha's flat, with a garden and shared pool. There were trees that blossomed and fruit trees that hung, like pendulums, swaying solely in the breeze, the fruit hanging off, just waiting for a child to grasp a juicy, ripe fruit and pluck it from its mother. Martha was early and she was never normally early, ever. She decided to go for a drink at the bar 2 blocks away, hidden from view but the luminescent sign hung over the faded canopy, covered in debris and dark circles of rainwater. She needed Dutch courage, even to see her friend. The liquor made her relax, she felt more comfortable in her skin, more open to conversation and light-headed. 'I'll have a gin an tonic, with a twist of lime, please' she uttered. The man next to her had twisted his body to about 30 degrees and said 'I'll get that for you, honey'. She stared at him. She had not even noticed him. Not at all in fact. He was about her age, 30 or 34, quite handsome and had smooth hands. You can always tell a man's demeanour by his hands. They were smooth and had the lightest touch of hair sprinkled sparsely over his knuckles. He smelled good too. ' Thank you' she murmured and took the drink as if to calm her nerves. Why was she nervous, she had done this before. It was her job, after all, catching men out, cheating or about to cheat on their wives or partners. She took the glass to her lips and ever so slightly, parted her mouth as if in slow-motion and sipped very slowly, motioning her body towards the glass and slipping her left arm under her chest. This gave the illusion of bigger breasts than she had, her arm lifted them ever so slightly. Men seemed to fall for this trick and, although deceiving, she loved doing it. They were fools for falling for this and they did not even know. He watched her, mesmerised by her face, her smell, her at-like presence and her well-endowed breasts. ' This tastes good' she whispered, almost to herself. 'If it tasted as good as you look, I'll have some' he said. She pivoted on her chair as if teetering, about to fall over. If she did, would catch her, she wondered.' You're a bad boy' she purred and this time, she stepped off the stool, parting her knees ever so slightly, but it was too late, he was hooked. ' You going anywhere nice? he asked, matter of factly as if she knew him. ' I'm gonna see a friend, a very good friend of mine' she leaned in while talking to him, making sure that her blouse opened slightly, not revealing much of anything but leaving him wanting more. He wanted her and she was playing with him. She saw his brown eyes melt in front of her, she could have asked him for anything and he would have stolen or killed for her. This was her job. Honey trap lady. Lady of the night. The one that caught the one that might get away. She saw her body as her tool and she used it to bait weak men who should know better. She had no fear at all and all the arsenal to trap this wanderer, before he wandered. She saw he was about to make his move and put her glass down.' I gotta run, honey' she said, parting from the warmth of his skin. 'It's been great. You've been great' she muttered, almost sincerely. She turned and slinked away back to her car. She was woozy with delight. For her the game was thrilling, the win was what she wanted, like a hunter with its animal skin; she had nearly won the game, but let they prey loose. It was time to see her friend. She rang the bell and Mary answered, wearing some kind of pinafore. How drab she looked. Martha threw her arms around her as if she were the love of hr life, almost strangling her.' It's been too long, Martha', Mary shouted as if wanting the whole building to hear. ' I know, I know, far too long. This is a lovely house Mary, you and Bernard must be so happy, and he is one lucky man...' Mary looked her in the eye and agreed. After all, why would he not be happy; she looked after him like an emperor. He had but to ask and she gave him everything, anything. The dining table looked immaculate, laid out with plates and flower, as if for a wedding. The doorbell rang and Mary danced her way to answer it. It was Bernard and he looked uncannily like the man in the bar. It was him.