This is the sad story of Margot and how she extraordinarily got her wardrobe.
Margot was born after the Second World War in Belgium. She was happy with her siblings for the first four years of her life. But a misfortune happened. She fell off the swing where she was playing and hit her head. From then on, concentrating was hard for her, and she was declared handicapped. But she wasn't disabled; she had a little more trouble learning. Nowadays, she would say borderline.
Her parents put her in a boarding school; at first, they went to see her every week. Then her mother got pregnant, and little by little, they forgot her. She grew up alone in a boarding school for people with mental problems.
When she became a woman, she became interested in men. And she fell in love with a mature and handsome male nurse. It all seemed like a fairy tale. They married, and she left the boarding school to live with her husband.
Then began her second imprisonment, which lasted twenty years. The handsome nurse was a possessive madman, and taking advantage of his love, he locked her in the house and didn't let her see anyone. He also beat her, not on her face, but on her body so that she couldn't be seen. Margot had no friends, and she hardly went out of the house. She only said hello to two neighbours, a Belgian family and a Pakistani family.
One day the nurse forgot to lock the door, as he always did. And Margot ran away. First, I asked the Belgian family for help, and they didn't want to do anything.
Then she knocked on the Pakistani's door, and they heard her. They saw the beatings, and with difficulty, they understood what she was saying. Then they took her to the police, who didn't believe her. They looked at the nurse's record and saw nothing special.
Margot was afraid and ran away. She lived on the streets for several months as a homeless person until, one day, she met a Pakistani family by chance. They helped her again and took her to social services. A few weeks later, she was given a small flat.
It was a dream after living twice in prison and then on the streets.
One day she was walking through the city centre when she saw an optician's shop. She went in and asked if they could fix her glasses. He had had them for over 10 years, broken and taped together. The optician was very kind and asked if she wanted to have her eyesight corrected free of charge.
Margot agreed. Then the optician realised that she couldn't read the letters because Margot couldn't read. This was normal as she had never been to school. Scheherazade, the optician's name, took pity on her and gave her the glasses. But before leaving, she asked her if she needed anything for her small flat that she needed.
Margot said she already had a microwave, but she could use a big wardrobe to store all her clothes.
Scheherazade promised that in a month, she would have her wardrobe. And so began Margot's tremendous wardrobe odyssey.
First, she thought about buying a wardrobe from Ikea. She found a cheap one, but it was too complicated to bring it upstairs and assemble it in the house. Margot was old and didn't understand the instructions. Then Scheherazade searched the internet and found a nice wardrobe at a reasonable price. The owner reserved it for her. But two days later, he called her to say that he had sold it.
Scheherazade was in Trieste and kept looking. As fate would have it, she found another beautiful wardrobe only two streets away from where the old lady lived. There was no time to lose, she looked for Margot by car, and they searched for the wardrobe.
When he arrived at 77 rue de la Esperanza, he found a large removal van. It was like a revelation. She implored the driver to help her, and he agreed. Her two sons would do her a favour and take the wardrobe to the third floor where Margot lived.
Scheherazade knocked on the door, and nothing. No one would open the door. She began to despair when she saw some furniture in front of gate 79. She had another revelation and knocked on the door of the other house. Yes, it was there. It was there; the man had given the wrong number.
They went upstairs where the wardrobe was, a large solid wood wardrobe. It was challenging to dismantle but could be taken out with great care. But they needed more people to help. Margot called her Pakistani friend, who came with two cousins.
They were all there, pushing the cupboard and carrying it down the stairs. Then they took it out into the street and blocked the traffic. The police came to give them a ticket, but they took pity on old lady Margot sitting in the car exhaust.
Even the police helped them load the huge wardrobe into the van and escorted them to Margot's house. Getting the closet up to the third floor where Margot lived was challenging. But among all those people, they made it.
Margot's wardrobe cost nothing. The owner didn't want to ask for money, nor did the improvised transporter and his two sons. They also saved the fine that the cops didn't want to pay.
The famous heavy wardrobe was white, just as Margot wanted it to be. And in a way, it brought her luck. A few weeks later, she met a handsome gentleman who invited her to lunch. Poor Margot began to fall in love. She had never had love in her life. Her parents had abandoned her, and then she had lived for years with an abuser.
She had the right to find her prince charming. And she did but in an ironic way. Maybe it was the wardrobe; nobody knows what's inside or comes out of the closet.
And then came the big disappointment. Her boyfriend confessed that he loved her company but couldn't go any further in a relationship. He was gay. It was the first time he had admitted to a woman. Margot didn't find her husband, but she did find a friend who came out of the wardrobe.