A mother screamed, “You’ve betrayed me!” as the father vanished without a word.
Emily was deep in sleep when the phone shattered the night. She grabbed the receiver, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Emily!” Her mother’s voice trembled with despair. “Come! Now!”
“Mum, what’s happening?” She jolted awake, trying to steady her dread. “Another row with Dad? You’ve spent your lives like thissort it out yourselves!”
“There’s no one left to row with!” Her mother’s voice cracked. “Your father’s gone!”
“Mum is Dad dead?” Emily froze, ice flooding her veins.
“Come, you’ll see for yourself!” her mother snapped. “This isn’t a conversation for the phone!”
“See what?” She nearly yelled in confusion.
“Just come!” The line went dead.
Shaking, Emily scrambled to get ready. She rushed to the family home in the outskirts of Manchester, unable to imagine what awaited her.
“Emily! Hurry!” Her mother’s voice rang like a death knell.
“What now?” she muttered, rubbing her bleary eyes.
“What now?! I’m falling apart, and she asks questions!” Her mother was nearly sobbing.
“Mum, its seven in the morning, its Saturday,” Emily tried to reason, though worry gnawed at her. “Ive got plans, the kids, my husband. Explain, or Im not coming.”
“You wont come?” Her mother gasped. “I dont matter anymore! You dont care about my pain!”
“Mum, you and Dad have been at each others throats forever,” Emily cut in. “Im tired of being your referee.”
“Your fathers disappeared!” her mother shrieked before the line went dead again.
“Whats all this?” grumbled her husband, Thomas, turning in bed.
“Something serious, apparently,” she murmured, still reeling. “I have to go.”
“Theyre unbearable!” Thomas fumed. “Doesnt your mother realise youve got your own family?”
“Tom, dont start. We dont choose our parents,” she sighed. “I need to go. Sorry, but youll have to handle the kids alone.”
“Like I havent before,” he muttered. “Tell your mumif she calls like this again, Im filing for divorce.”
Emily raised a brow. “Seriously?”
“No, of course not,” he said with a tight smile. “But she needs scaring. Maybe shell get it.”
“She wont,” Emily shook her head, gathering her things.
The family home had always been a battleground. Her mother, Margaret, screamed endlessly while her father, William, stayed silent, lips pressed into a thin line. Outwardly, he ignored her rants, but Emily knewinside, he was seething.
The rows began when she was a teen. Rare at first, they soon became daily. Her mothers shrill voice carried, waking the whole street. Even the old men on the bench outside would mutter, “How does he live with that? Poor sod.”
No one asked how Emily survived. From the outside, the family seemed perfecther father ran a lab at the university, earned well, her mother didnt work, tending the house and daughter. But “tending” was generous. Margaret ruled everything: her husband, Emily, even the cleaner William hired to ease her load. A wasted effort.
The fights grew louder, crueller. Emily was just another piece of furnitureher feelings didnt matter. She dreamed of escape. And she did. She left for university in Manchester, rarely returning. But every visit was poisoned by their shouting.
Once, her father snapped, “What do you want, Margaret? The moon?” Stunned hed spoken back, she laughedthen fell silent. Briefly.
At Emilys wedding, her mother outdid herself. Sniping at her father, criticising everything, and when the toast was offered to William, shed leapt up: “Ill do it! You cant trust him with anything important!” Guests exchanged glances; Emily burned with shame.
After the wedding, her father secretly bought her a flat in Manchester, swearing her to secrecy. She kept it, telling only Thomas. “Blimey,” hed said. “Hope we never have secrets like that.” “Never,” she smiled. “I take after DadI cant stand rows.”
Memories flooded her on the drive. She expected the usual complaints, her fathers weary eyes. But reality was worse.
Her mother wailed at the door, “I gave him everythingmy youth, my life! And he dares!”
“Mum, wheres Dad?” Emily gripped her shoulders.
“Your father left last night!” her mother sobbed.
“Left?” The floor seemed to drop beneath her.
“Gone while I slept! Took his things and vanished!”
“Have you rung him?”
“Of course! He wont answer! You tryhe wont speak to me!”
Emily dialled. Her father answered at once, eerily calm. “I know why youre calling. Ive earned this. Im staying with a friend. If you need me, Im here. For you.”
“Dad, where are you?” she asked, her mothers glare boring into her.
“In the countryside. For now. Well see. Alright?”
“Alright,” she whispered.
“What did you promise him?” her mother shrieked. “That traitor!”
“Mum, enough! Dads not a traitor. Hes tired of your drama.”
“Is that what he said?”
“No, thats me. Hes with a friend. Hell come backdont worry.”
He never did. Her mother hunted down the address, stormed over. She pounded, screamedno one answered. She called endlesslysilence. She accused an affair. Finding none, her fury grew: “How dare he leave without reason? Am I nothing?”
Finally, Emily snapped. “Mum, he doesnt want forgiveness. Hes not divorcing you, still pays the bills, blames you for nothing. He just wants peace. Hes had enough.”
“Hes had enough?” her mother screeched. “Im the one who endured it all!” She crumpled then, as if struck by an unseen blade.
