The Sarah Wainwright Story
Extraordinary Episodes from the Life of an Ordinary Woman
by
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On a warm autumn day I was halfway to my parent’s house, dripping with sweat and breast milk in the shapeless crimplene dress. That day I learned the true qualities of crimplene. More importantly, I learned that swapping one man for another doesn't work. It just makes things worse, much worse, especially if the man in question is married. It was too late now to heed the warning, ‘Beware of men bearing expensive gifts’. The leaves were all the colours that poets and artists go into raptures about. I was feeling the exact opposite of rapturous. I dragged one foot after the other wondering if the agony would ever end. The scenes of the past year played like a film in my mind as I plodded on.
The kind lady from the adoption society, who happened to be a vicar's wife, had come to visit before and after the adoption. I had sarcastically nicknamed her Mrs Angel. Jim was there at the ‘before’ meeting.
Apparently he had to be.
‘Now then, you two,’ Mrs Angel had said, ‘Why do you think your marriage has gone wrong? You are still very young.’
‘That's it,’ Jim said. ‘She was too young, too immature. Not ready for marriage.’
‘Rubbish. Who has taken all the responsibilities? Me. Who pays the bills? Me. Who does everything – housework, gardening, decorating, child care? Me. And I go to work. What do you do? Play football!’
I surprised myself daring to say these things in front of him, and I knew it was a case of speak now pay later.
‘Well, that's cleared things up. I'm sure you'll work things out now and get on with each other a little better.’
Is she for real? I thought. Was that supposed to be marriage guidance counselling? Christ, you don't live in the same world as us.
The ‘after’ meeting was much worse. I was alone when Mrs Angel came to tell me what a wonderful family my son had gone to. She was not big on tact.
‘My baby was born with webbed feet,’ I ventured.
I hadn't even spoken the words ‘my baby’ to anyone before. The subject was strictly taboo. It was
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About the Book
The Sarah Wainwright Story is exactly that. It is an old lady telling her life story but in an unusual way. Most of the chapters would stand alone as short stories but when read in sequence they follow a story line. The chapters are written in a variety of ways. The book begins in the first person then switches to the third. One chapter is written as a letter to a friend. Two chapters are written as extracts from a journal. Each chapter has a linking introduction. The pace of the story varies. Somtimes it is very fast and intense but then is followed with a slower section to give the reader breathing space. In the beginning Sarah,unhappily married with two sons,attempts to escape. Firstly she has an affair which results in the birth of a son whom she relinquishes for adoption. The effects of the adoption last a lifetime but for years Sarah does not recognise the cause of her depression. Although she leads a life packed with events with which most women will identify she never really forgets her son. She searches for him with unexpected results.
About the Author
Jean Wild, now retired, has had a multitude of jobs which include teaching and desktop publishing. She calls herself ‘Jill of all trades and mistress of none’. She writes, paints, dances, plays the clarinet for dancing and the piano for herself. Her latest and all consuming passion is gardening.
Being close to 70 she wanted to publish her experiences and thoughts on a number of women’s issues, in particular adoption and depression. She is a woman of very strong beliefs and will always take action or speak out when faced with inequality or injustice. Perhaps for this reason she has been called judgmental.
The play she wrote in the 90’s was performed in her home city in England and was well received.
She lives deep in the countryside of Brittany with her three cats and enjoys life to the full.