LOVE TRANSCENDS

by

 Vic o'Bradford

"There they go, the Ugly Ducklings!"

It was the usual taunt employed by their less-than-friendly male school colleagues, solely intended to ridicule the two inoffensive young girls. Neither was pretty, not even good looking, and such heartless comments naturally endeared them to each other. They had formed an implacable association in defence against such boyish onslaughts.

Each brought to the partnership different assets: Diane Clayton had dark hair and piercing black eyes, with a quiet wit sharp enough to rebuff such remarks, often bringing a young perpetrator to his knees in shame by confronting him with superior intellect.

Judy Smith was auburn - 'Ginger Jude' to some boys - with blue eyes and a freckled face, itself sometimes a target. But she was resilient, with a bouncy personality, laughing off insults in a manner that parried any potential hurt. Adversaries were often defeated by her simple ability to make them smile.

And so they grew up as inseparable friends to an age when the sexes began to take more serious notice of each other. From this point onwards they found themselves by-passed by the youths of the district in the competitive male search for more attractive conquests.

They never deliberately isolated themselves, indeed they freely took part in joint activities; nevertheless they remained almost unnoticed by boys throughout their teens. As Diane's twenty first drew nearer she began to think about her celebration party:

"Judy, will you help with my list of invitations?"

"Of course I will; and I know one name we'd both like - but he wouldn't come, would he?"

She was referring to Tim Brooks, the local Adonis, tall, blond and athletic, much sought after by girls far better endowed than either of the two friends.

"Probably not," agreed Diane, "but we'll send him one anyway, shall we?"

"OK, but it's a waste of a stamp, even if he does come, he'll end up with voluptuous Vicky, or someone like that."

The day of the party arrived and Mr. and Mrs. Clayton had tactfully arranged a theatre visit for the evening, more as a haven than a source of entertainment. As the house began to fill with nice-but-noisy young people they were just leaving, happy not to have to endure the decibels produced by a full-volume stereo.

Each time the bell rang Diane went to the door to let in another guest, hoping, but not believing, he would come. Surprise overwhelmed her when the handsome blond fellow arrived on the doorstep, offering a huge smile and a large parcel wrapped in bright paper with a pink bow.

"Hello, Diane," he greeted her, "Happy Birthday and Congratulations! Thanks very much for inviting me."

"Tim!"

She couldn't help her reaction and was even more surprised when he bent forward and gave her a purposeful kiss, "I didn't think you'd come."

'Well, of course I've come," he said, "I wouldn't have missed it. You know I've always liked you.

She never thought he'd even noticed her and was astonished at the compliment. She'd always assumed that he would be egotistical, even arrogant, and only interested in a girl who exhibited some kind of film star attributes. In truth, of course, she'd never been close enough to judge.

'No, Tim," she countered, "I didn't know, and I think you're just being nice for my birthday."

"Ah, but that's not true," he said, "I've always admired your intelligence and wit. in fact I've often wanted to take you out, but you're always with Judy. I thought I'd have no chance of breaking into that formidable alliance."

She smiled at his comment and they went in to join the others. Diane made a beeline for Judy who was busy handing out sandwiches and drinks.

"He's here!"

She was a little flushed as she blurted out the words "and he's not a bit like we thought."

"He's not? What do you mean?"

"Well, look at this present; and he kissed me properly."

"Really properly?"

"Yes really-wonderfully-properly: and he said he'd often wished he could take me out." Judy was equally amazed and somewhat disbelieving, but could see by her friend's excitement that some new spirit had stirred her.

The party progressed to its clamorous conclusion and Diane said her 'Goodnights' as the happy throng spilled out through the door. She thought everyone had left; then she noticed one remaining body still adhering to its armchair in the corner.

"Tim, I thought you'd gone: are you alright?"

"Not really;" he said, "perhaps I should have gone, and forgotten it."

"Forgotten what?"

She could see the perplexed lock about his eyes, as if he were somehow doubting himself and struggling with a problem.

"To ask if you really would go out with me one evening."

Did he mean it? Was this adorable mountain of male perfection truly asking an ugly duckling to share his company? She gave him no time for a retraction:

"Oh yes, Tim," she bubbled, "of course I will."

A heady mixture of wild, perfumed thoughts swirled through her brain as the arrangements were made and Tim left. When her parents returned home she'd already gone upstairs to sit in her bedroom, looking out across the moonlit garden in a half trance.

"Good party, Diane?"

It was her father, calling up the stairs.

"Wonderful, Dad, really wonderful; and thank you so much for arranging it for me," she answered, in a voice that he hadn't heard before.

"Our daughter sounds like she's won a million pounds," he remarked to his wife, "I wonder what they were up to."

"That sounded to me like a girl in love," was Mum's wiser reaction.

The weeks went by; Diane and Tim found themselves in each other's company more and more frequently. She was pleased to discover that Judy showed no jealousy, only delight at her friend's new happiness, and they still met on those evenings when Tim had duties.

"I think I'll be undertaking the part of bridesmaid soon," Judy remarked one night.

"Yes, I think so too," said her friend, "he's already hinted at it. I still can't believe it could happen though, not to me.

Later that month the two girls were in town shopping. The new diamond ring on Diane's finger sparkled in the sunshine as they crossed the road.

Suddenly her bliss was shattered by a screech of brakes; she found herself face down on the tarmac, her hip giving much pain where the car bonnet had struck. She couldn't move her legs at all and when the ambulance crew, with Judy, had accompanied her to hospital, it was discovered that the pelvis was broken.

"I'm very sorry to tell you, Miss Clayton," announced a doctor after the examination, "I'm afraid your hip is far too damaged to repair fully."

The stark vision of permanent disability arose frighteningly in her mind.

"So. what does that mean?"

"Well, it means that in a few weeks you will walk again,"

"Oh, thank Heaven for that," Diane interjected.

" but only with a crutch, probably two," said the doctor.

When she had absorbed that dreadful message, her quest for information continued:

"So, how long will I be in here?"

"About six weeks; then you'll need regular visits for physiotherapy," he said.

"And crutches for ever?"

"I'm afraid so, my dear; I'm very sorry".

Tim was away for a fortnight on a company assignment. She wondered whether to telephone, but then decided there was nothing to be gained by upsetting him, so she refrained.

As the days went slowly by, the nurses were kind and helpful, but Diane became increasingly ill at ease as she realised the new difficulty brought about by her serious injury.

She was to marry a man who could have any girl he might choose, soon to be tied to her in a life of limited mobility. She couldn't allow that to happen to him; but she also knew that if he were in possession of the truth, he would probably carry on with their wedding plans out of loyalty and sympathy he was that kind of person but it wouldn't do. The only course would be to end their relationship herself on some pretext, concealing the facts about the accident. To achieve such a plan she would need the assistance of her dear friend.

"Judy. I want you to help me," she began, on the next visit, "I have to do an awful thing, but I really have no choice."

There were tears in her eyes as she described her intentions. She let Judy read the letter she had written. It said that she was sorry, but had realised she was not ready for marriage yet and was returning the ring: also that it would be better if Tim didn't try to contact her, as that would only make everything more difficult for them both.

It wished him well for the future and thanked him for all that he had been to her, ending with a repeated request that he should not try to contact her on any account. As Judy read the disturbing lines, Diane was removing her ring.

"I want you to take this, and the letter, and give them to him when he gets back," she said, "and you must promise not to tell him anything about the accident."

Judy was more than sorrowful, "are you quite sure about this? I don't really want to be a part of it, although I do see why," she said.

"Yes, Judy, I'm quite sure."

It was an unbearable responsibility she had given to her friend. When the letter was handed to Tim he opened it immediately in front of her. As he read the awful words, she witnessed scalding tears slowly trickling down his cheeks,

"How can she do this? I thought she loved me more than anything in the world."

The man was completely shaken. Sorrow, anger, humiliation, all whirled in his head for days. He found himself almost setting out to see her, but then re-reading the letter and changing his mind in view of the cold instruction she had left, Finally he came to accept the position and realised that he must let her go.

The devastated Tim buried himself in his work and the weeks went by. Gradually the pain receded and he began to ask other girls out for an evening, but there was little to compare with the lively, loving discourse he'd enjoyed with Diane. He missed her so very much and knew there would never be anyone else to take her place.

* * *

"Hello, Tim: how's your fiancée?"

It was a neighbour whom he hadn't seen for weeks, passing him in the street.

"I do hope she's recovered from the accident."

"Accident, what accident?"

One arm linked her father's, the other gripped its crutch, as they walked slowly down the aisle together, followed by a lifelong friend, to join a very handsome. very happy young man at the altar.