The Man Who Understood Women by Rosemary Friedman Page B

back slowly and follow through, and there were hours at a time when she did not think about Roly. When it snowed and they could not play she was upset and practised in the hall.
    Slowly, week by week, with Judd she learned to laugh again. He made a Christmas tree for the children. He took them skating on a frozen lake. She found herself looking forward to his double ring, punctual as a grandfather clock.
    By the time her drives were landing, time after time, on the fairway and her iron shots stopping neatly on the green, she began to be sure that Judd wanted to marry her. She knew that there would never, ever, be a love like hers and Roly’s, it was something past. One could not live in the past and Judd had broad, comfortable-looking shoulders.
    As the weather grew warmer and their golf games more frequent , she began to expect his proposal. She wondered when it would be. That he was fond of her was obvious. A woman did not have to be told.
    One after the other, their days together slid quickly by and the proposal of which she was so sure was never mentioned. Before she realised where the weeks had gone, it was time for Judd to return to Washington. Still nothing had been said. That there was no one else, she knew. He told her all there was to know about his life at home and she was certain he had no woman waiting to welcome him.
    Today he was going home and, dreaming on her pillow Sara guessed that before his plane left he would ask her. She wasready with her answer. She dressed carefully and was annoyed with herself for being in a dither of excitement.
    They had lunch at the airport. She thought to herself how familiar his large, kind face with its straight mouth and receding hair had become, how much she had grown to depend upon him.
    After the coffee he held her hand for the first time, filling her with a sense of security.
    ‘Sara,’ he said gently, ‘I’ve known you long enough to ask you something.’
    She watched him stub out his cigarette; then he was holding her hand in both his own.
    ‘Would you think of getting married again?’ he asked.
    She thought of Roly and, knowing that his memory would always remain untouched, said yes, she might, and waited for what would come next.
    He leaned forward. ‘You mustn’t mind what I’m going to say, Sara,’ he said, ‘because I say it for your sake. If you should think of getting married again, I ask you to wait. Wait until your heartache ’s gone and there’s no need to seek the comfort of the first pair of arms that comes along. When you’ve had a shock, such as you have had, your judgement goes haywire and your imagination may give to any man qualities he does not really possess.
    ‘And there’s another thing, Sara. Marriage is for two. It needs giving as well as taking. You cannot expect to give yourself over to the task of building a new marriage and making it work while you are still recovering from Roly. Whoever you marry you will have to meet halfway.
    ‘You don’t mind my saying this?’ he asked. ‘Look at me, please, Sara.’
    She managed to raise her head but knew her eyes were full of tears of disappointment.
    ‘I’ll go and get my baggage cleared,’ he said, standing up. ‘Wait for me downstairs.’
    Before he got into the plane he held her very close and very tight, and she tried not to cry when he kissed her. He left her holding a large square box, his parting gift. As she waved goodbye to the plane the tears slid unrestricted down her face.
    When she got home the children were waiting for her, busy with the presents Judd had given them. They wanted to know what was in her parcel so she sat on the settee, red-eyed, to open it. There were three-dozen brand-new golf balls in the box and she started to laugh hysterically through her tears. When she was calm she realised that it was not such a stupid present after all, and that with each one she would learn to live a little more, concentrating on something she was anxious to do really