Hello reader.
Below is a story by my late Grandma Beatie, that she wrote sometime back in the early 1980s. It was submitted to BBC Radio 4 and it was read out live on air. She was paid the princely sum of £7. According to my mum, she felt that was a bit stingy and to this day the family is not sure if she ever cashed the cheque. In fact, my mum is quite sure that she framed it. Suffice it to say dreams of fame and fortune, didn't materialise. So here we are in 2022 and here is that same story online just for you. Enjoy!
Gladys Robertson had been married for nearly twenty-two years, and during all that time, her main worry had been that her husband, Herbert, would leave her for another woman.
The problem was that Herbert was so attractive to the opposite sex. He'd never tried to conceal this from her.
In fact, the day he'd proposed, he'd confessed.
"There's something that I think you should know Gladys. I seem to have a certain 'Je ne sais quoi' where the ladies are concerned".
She remembered thinking how considerate it was of him to use a foreign language when he had something disturbing to tell her.
Gladys never doubted that he was telling the truth; he was so attractive it was understandable that women found him irresistible. Everyone loved her Herbert.
That was why, when she'd confided the problem to her best friend Sadie, she'd been first astonished and then upset by Sadie's reaction.
"Herbert! Your Herbert! Irresistible to women!" And then she'd begun to laugh till the tears ran down her cheeks.
"I think you've got things the wrong way round", she'd sneered. Somehow their friendship had never quite been the same since.
Herbert was in charge of a large office, which consisted mainly of women staff.
As he explained to Gladys, there were times when this made life almost unbearable for him.
In spite of her own suffering over the situation, Gladys always appreciated that Herbert had a far greater cross to bear.
Often he returned home looking positively haggard.
It made her so angry to think of him having to fend off the attentions of some
glamorous blonde, passionate redhead or dark Latin temptress when he was trying to work.
One day, driven to distraction by Herbert's problems, she'd made the mistake of confiding in Sadie again.
"Probably old age catching up with him", she'd suggested sarcastically.
"Seeing all that talent around and not having the energy to do anything about it. I'd put it down to frustration".
Gladys had been appalled. She could never understand why Sadie was always so
scathing about Herbert. Sometimes she suspected her friend didn't like her husband very much.
Then something happened that was to change their whole lives.
Herbert joined a Gardening Club.
It seemed an innocuous thing to do at the time, and Gladys actually encouraged him.
The Club was held weekly in one of the sheds on the local allotment
"We're only a small group", Herbert had explained, "but that makes it more intimate".
Gladys really didn't know at the time, but this hobby was to prove a danger to their marriage.
After a while, Herbert began spending more and more time with his new friends. In her innocence, Gladys didn't suspect that this was where temptation lurked.
"You don't mind, old girl?" He’d asked.
"It's just that when we get talking about plants and fertilisers, we forget all about time."
Gladys hadn't minded. Why should she?
It was during breakfast one Saturday morning that Herbert had dropped his bombshell.
"I'll be going to the Flower Show at Storford next week".
Was it her imagination, or did he have a guilty look in his eye?
"I'm just going to help one of the members with a pot stall", he'd said defiantly.
"And who's that?".
"Brenda Rollins".
Gladys was aghast. She'd just assumed, rather stupidly, as she now realised, that all the members of the Gardening Club were male.
"And what kind of pots are these?" she asked quietly, trying hard to keep control
over her emotions, "cups and saucers?".
Herbert shook his head and explained patiently, "Pots for patios and terraces". Apart from informing her, that he’d be picking Brenda up at seven o'clock the following Saturday, the subject wasn’t discussed further.
Gladys' mind was in turmoil.
Herbert had always told her that he had no time for the opposite sex, and yet here he was, planning to spend a whole day away from home with another woman.
After years of resisting the advances of love-sick girls, had Herbert at last succumbed?
She had to find out.
Gladys decided to go to The Flower Show.
She caught the ten o’clock train, feeling very apprehensive about what might lay ahead.
Arriving at the show, Gladys bought her ticket. She thought it was rather expensive,
but maybe, if horticulture had been one of her interests, she would have considered it money well spent.
She realised that it wasn't going to be as easy as she'd anticipated to find Herbert as the show was crowded with gardeners, both amateur and professional, as well as lots of other visitors.
After half an hour of wandering around, her feet began to swell, so she bought a cup of coffee and sat down on a deck chair to listen to the jazz band.
Gladys closed her eyes and wallowed in nostalgia, her toes tapping to the rhythm. 'Dark Town Strutter's Ball'. What memories it evoked in her, reminding her of the days when she'd been young. But that had been before she'd met Herbert, when she was still single.
Had all the years she'd worried over her husband been worth it? There'd never really been any fun in their marriage.
She'd given up dancing and going to jazz concerts, and for what?
To spend all her time living in dread that Herbert might leave her for someone else. Would it really have mattered if he had?
She jumped up guiltily. Whatever was she thinking about?
She must find him immediately.
Turning down the aisle by the Fuschia Exhibitions, she saw the flower pots.
A young girl was busy sorting them by size. Gladys presumed that this must be Brenda.
She could see Herbert fussing over her, trying to brush his body against hers every time she passed him.
"Leave it out will you?" Brenda warned.
"I'd never have let you help me if I'd known what an old groper you are. Still, I should have known. I did hear a rumour that one of the girls in your office threatened to report you for sexual harassment."
Gladys stood transfixed, hardly able to believe what she was seeing.
What a complete fool she'd been. She realised now that Sadie had tried to warn her, but she hadn't wanted to know.
She felt like a drowning person with her whole life flashing before her eyes. Then Herbert saw her watching them.
"What are you doing here Gladys?" he demanded angrily.
Advancing towards him, she picked up a stack of four-inch pots and began to fling them in all directions.
He ducked in an effort to evade the flying terracotta.
"You're pathetic, Herbert. All those lies you told me about women chasing you when really you were nothing but the office wolf".
Then giving him one mighty push, she toppled him into the largest of the flower pots.
As she turned away, she was left with a vision of Herbert, legs waving frantically as he tried to clamber out.
Brenda was laughing hysterically at his humiliation. Gladys set off in the direction of the bandstand.
She sat down on a seat in the front row and kicked off her shoes. Then she began to clap joyfully in time to the beat.
The man with the alto sax winked at her, and she winked boldly back. Gladys had decided to begin enjoying life again.
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