—Right, I’m off… Katie.
—Go on, then.
—I’m leaving, Katie, you hear?
—Go, Alex, just go.
Only once the door slammed shut behind Alex did Catherine let the tears come. She curled up in the worn armchair, passed down from her grandmother, knees tucked under her, and wept. Silently, like a child afraid of being overheard. She cried until the hiccups came, small and helpless.
How could she go on without him? Without the man she’d shared everything with all these years?
Katie stood to make dinner, then froze. Why bother? Alex wasn’t here. What was the point? She collapsed back into the chair, and the flood came again.
But then she remembered the children. Soon her daughter, Maisie—a university student—would be home, ravenous after lectures. Then her son, Ollie, would trudge in late from football practice. They’d be hungry. They needed feeding. Katie forced herself up, wiped her face, and headed for the kitchen.
Thinking of the years with Alex, she broke down once more. How? How could she live without him?
That evening, the kids burst in as usual, shoving and joking. But the absence was quickly noticed.
—Mum, where’s Dad? Working late? —Maisie asked.
—Yeah, where is he? —Ollie chimed in.
Katie couldn’t hold back. The tears spilled again. She sank into a chair and sobbed.
—Mum, what’s wrong? Is he in hospital? —Maisie panicked.
—No… he left… —Katie forced it out. —For good… for another woman.
—What? —the kids shouted together. —Mum, you’re joking!
But it wasn’t a joke.
Ollie’s lip trembled. A tough little footballer at thirteen, he was still just a boy. He looked helplessly from his mum to his sister, on the brink of tears himself.
—Right, —Maisie rubbed her forehead briskly. —Ollie, go wash up and do your homework. Mum, enough with the waterworks. We need to figure this out.
Maisie was sharp, decisive, quick to act. Ollie obeyed without protest.
Later, she peeked into his room.
—Crying?
He shook his head, eyes down.
Maisie hugged him, ruffling his hair.
—We’ll get through this, Ols. Hear me? We’re a family. He’s the one on his own. He’s worse off.
—Am I supposed to feel sorry for *him*? —Ollie burst out.
—Sorry for him? Not a bad idea. We’ll be happy—happier than ever. And he’ll realise what a mistake he made.
After calming her brother and mother, Maisie locked herself in the bathroom and finally let go. How? How could their dad—the best dad in the world—do this? Not some charmer, just an ordinary bloke with a bit of a belly from all her mum’s baking. Jokes only Mum ever laughed at. Drove a clunky old car he fixed himself. Worked as a small-time supervisor at a factory, modest salary.
But their family had always been happy. Maisie used to brag to friends her dad was the only one who hadn’t strayed. Turns out, she was wrong…
She scrubbed her face with cold water.
Life carried on, steadier now, but without Dad. The word vanished. Now it was *him*, or *Father*, and even that grew rare.
One day, Maisie heard footsteps behind her.
—Mash! Maisie, wait up!
She turned. There he was: awkward in a too-tight pinstripe suit, tie strangling him, puffing as he hurried towards her.
She turned away, walking faster.
—Love, hang on! —he begged.
—What do you want? —she snapped.
—Here, take this… —Alex thrust out a wad of cash. —Plenty there. Come visit us, Maisie. Loretta—she’s lovely, sells fur coats. She’ll sort you out. A mink for your mum’s birthday! She lets me do anything. Off to Greece again soon, stock up…
—Piss off, —Maisie cut in.
—Why? It’s good money!
—Piss. Off. Dad.
Alex froze, as if doused in ice water. He knew money was tight. They’d lived modestly, and now he’d gone and… tangled himself up with Loretta.
It started with a mate, Greg. Dragged him round to this woman’s place, and there was Loretta. Didn’t like her at first—too loud, too brash, built like a wardrobe. Stared at him like he was dinner. Alex left early, guilt chewing him up. Lied to Katie that night, said he worked late. Felt so ashamed he ran a fever.
Greg talked him into going back. ‘Just half an hour!’ And there was Loretta again.
—What’s wrong, Al? She imports furs from Greece, two market stalls! She’ll get Katie whatever she wants!
—Why would I want that? I’ve got Katie.
—Come off it. Woman’s bored. What’s the harm? Mink coat for Katie—fancy it?
—Yeah…
And he went. Again and again. All for that damned coat. Didn’t even realise how it happened—ended up in bed with her. Cried the whole way home, disgusted with himself. Then Katie found out… and kicked him out.
Loretta was thrilled.
That evening, Maisie was stormy.
—Mash, did he talk to you? —Ollie mumbled.
—You too?
Her brother nodded.
—Told him to sod off. Hate him. Traitor.
Maisie agreed.
Alex moped.
—What’s up, love? —Loretta asked.
—Kids won’t speak to me. Katie either… Offered ’em money, but they’re too proud. Know they’re struggling…
—Well, she chucked you out, didn’t she? —Loretta shrugged.
—She did… But how’d she even know? We were careful…
Loretta rose from the gaudy four-poster—fancier than anything Alex had ever seen—set down her champagne glass. She lived on the stuff, strawberries too, though Alex hated champagne and was allergic to strawberries.
—Oh, I told her, —she said airily.
—You *what*?
—Just did. She didn’t believe me, so I described that mole of yours… and how you cry after, you know…
—You… *why*? She *kicked me out*!
—So? How else were you meant to end up here? Al, where you going?
—Home. To my wife. My kids.
—She *threw you out*, idiot!
—Doesn’t matter. She’ll forgive me. Katie’s soft-hearted. If not… I’ll sleep in the hallway.
—Al, we got her that coat…
—Keep it, Loretta. Don’t look for me.
—Katie, love…
—I said all I’m saying, Alex.
—Listen! I never meant… Wanted to get you that coat, a proper mink. Greg’s fault, said go along with it, she does furs, you’ll get one… Then *she* blabbed. I didn’t want this, just the coat… For your birthday. And you chucked me.
—Go, Alex.
—Still out there? —Katie asked Maisie.
—Yeah, Mum. Raining now. He’ll catch his death.
—Sod him… Coat, he said. Mink. For my birthday.
—Shall I call him in? —Maisie whispered.
—Dunno… Ols? Your call. Let your dad in? He’ll freeze.
Ollie sniffed, silent.
—Let’s bring him in, —Katie decided. —He’s still a person. Can’t leave him.
They did. Nursed him with tea at the kitchen table, none of them meeting each other’s eyes.
—Sorry… Katie, please… Kids, son, love, forgive me…
—What’d *we* do? —they muttered. —You hurt Mum.
Then they all cried, tangled in each other’s arms.
—Al… what’s Greece like? —Katie asked.
—Ah, Katie-love, —Alex perked up, spinning tales of places he’d barely seen.
He never spoke to Greg again. And, years later, they did buy Katie that coat. Not mink—sable.
