“Never mind, Clive! Dont fret! At least you had a cracking New Years Eve!”
There it washis hometown. Clive stepped off the platform, crossed the station square, and made his way to the bus stop. He hadnt told his wife, Emily, hed be back today.
His mood was sour, for he dreaded the coming row with Emily. Shed scold him again, complain he was a selfish, indifferent lout.
Indifferent? Hed tried to ring her on New Years, but shed switched off her phone. Bloody typical!
For three days hed tried calling, but she never picked up. Fine. If thats how she wanted it, hed stop trying too.
And come to think of it, she hadnt even bothered to wish his parents or sister a happy New Year, let alone him. Hed tell her that the moment he walked in.
She wasnt blameless eithershe had her faults. Best defence is a good offence, as they say.
Clive squared his shoulders and marched home, ready for battle.
The flat greeted him with silence.
“Hello? Anyone home? Emily, Im back!” he called, but no one answered.
He checked the kitchenempty. Then the bedroomsboth deserted. But something else caught his eye. The cot by the wall was gone. So was the chest of drawers with the changing table on top, and the pram her parents had bought them.
Clive hurried to the wardrobeher side was bare.
“Has she lost her mind? Left me?” he wondered.
He dialled his mother-in-law, but no answer. Next, he tried Katie, Emilys friend. Still nothing. Finally, he got through to Michael, Katies husband.
“Mike, mate! Put Katie on, will you? Cant get hold of her,” Clive said.
“Katies in the village with the kidswe celebrated New Years there. Spotty signal, you know how it is.”
“I got back yesterdayshift today. Theyre still relaxing,” Michael replied. “Why dyou need Katie?”
“Thought she might know where my Emily is. Came home, and shes gone. All the baby stuffs missing too,” Clive said.
“Waityour wife was due any day, wasnt she? You went off to your folks for the holidays and left her alone?” Michael sounded stunned.
“She didnt want to come. The due date was the tenth or eleventhplenty of time to get back.”
“Congratulations, you absolute pillock,” Michael chuckled.
“Why?” Clive frowned.
“Because youre likely single now. Blithering idiot! Ring the hospitalshes probably there,” Michael advised.
Ten days earlier
“I dont understand, Clive,” his mother had said over the phone. “Why must you stay home for the holidays? If Emily wont come, you come alone. Her due dates weeks offyoull be back in time.”
“Besides, nearly the whole familys gathering: Aunt Vera and Uncle George are coming, Natalie and Victor, Olivia and Paul. And us, of courseyour dad, and Vicky with Glen.”
“Vicky booked us a countryside hotelright in the woods. Four nights, from the thirtieth to the second. Fancy banquet on New Years Eve with live performers. Ive paid for youyoull settle me later. Stay till Twelfth Night, then go back. Plenty of time before Emilys due.”
Emily had refused to go.
“Clive, I could go into labour any day. Imagineeveryones celebrating, and suddenly Im in agony. And that hotels miles from townwould an ambulance even make it in time?”
“No. Im not going anywhere.”
“Your mothers rightwomen these days treat pregnancy like an illness and childbirth like a martyrdom. She had three of you and barely took maternity leave, still managed everything.”
Of course, Clive saw Emilys point. But the thought of a dreary New Years Eve at homejust the two of them, a meagre spread (Emily had already said she wouldnt cook much)made him glum.
Meanwhile, his family would be dancing, singing, and making merry at the hotel.
In the end, he went alone.
The countryside hotel was lively. Around half past midnight, after the New Year had rung in, Clive slipped out to call Emily. She didnt answer.
“Fine. Sulking, are you? Your own fault. You could be here with us,” he thought.
The next day, his mother voiced her displeasure with Emily.
“Your Emily didnt even call to wish us a happy New Year. See? Shes spiteful. Youve let her walk all over you, son.”
“She doesnt understand family. Here we are, all together, while shes there alone. Let her stew.”
But Emily had other concerns that New Years Eve. If she thought of anyone, it was Clivecertainly not his parents or their endless relatives.
Her own parents, hearing shed be alone, had invited her over. No grand feastjust a quiet evening.
Emilys brother worked shifts in London, so her parents had planned a quiet New Years, just the two of them.
At nine on the thirty-first, Emily and her mother were setting the table when the pains began.
An ambulance was called. Her mother went with her; her father followed in the car.
That year, Emily welcomed the New Year in a hospital bed, her parents in the waiting room below. By half past midnight, she was a mother to a son
Clive took Michaels advice and rang the hospital.
“Parker? Discharged yesterday,” the receptionist said.
“Discharged? Already? The babys here?”
“Yes. First of January, half past midnight.”
“Who collected her?” Clive asked.
“Sir, we dont log that in the register!”
Clive realised only her parents couldve picked her upshe and the baby must be at theirs.
He bought a bouquet of roses and set off.
He knocked. His father-in-law answered.
“Can I help you?”
“Im here to see Emily,” Clive said.
“Why?”
“Im her husband.”
“Emily!” her father called. “Some bloke here says hes your husband. Want to talk to him?”
“No, tell him to leave,” Emilys voice came from inside.
Her father spread his hands.
“She doesnt. Goodbye, lad.” The door shut.
Clive lingered, then knocked again.
This time, his mother-in-law answereda tall, stern woman with a voice like a foghorn. Truth be told, Clive was a bit afraid of her.
“Did you not hear?” she demanded.
“Let me in,” Clive began bravely. “I have a right”
He didnt finish. She snatched the bouquet and whipped him across the face with it.
“Your rights are a matter for your solicitor now! And dont call againmy grandsons sleeping.” She tossed the roses at his feet and slammed the door.
Clive trudged home, rubbing his faceroses were lovely, but the thorns stung.
Back home, he rang his mother first.
“They wouldnt even let me inwouldnt let me see my son.”
“Dont fret, Clive. Shell come crawling back. With a baby, where else can she go? Dont call her. Dont send money.”
“Let her parents feed her, if theyre so clever. A week or two, and shell be back. Now, get some sleepwork tomorrow.”
Clive did just that: ate shop-bought pies for supper and went to bed.
He slept soundly, unaware itd be his last night in that flat.
The next evening, returning from work, he found his belongings boxed and bagged on the landing.
He rang the bell. His mother-in-law answeredthe flat was hers, after all.
“Well, dear son-in-law? Remember your lodgings, or shall I remind you? Take your junk. Whatevers left, the cleaner tosses tomorrow!”
Clive moved back to the lodgings.
They divorced. Tired of shared housing, he considered renting, but after child support and alimony deductions, his wages barely covered living costs.
“Tighten your belt! Save for your own place,” Michael advised. “Never mind, Clive! Dont fret! At least you had a cracking New Years Eve!”
Emily lived with her parents for three years while they helped with little Charlie. The flat was let out.
When she returned to work, she and Charlie moved back in. After renovations, no trace of Clive or his family remained.
What do you make of Clives choices? Share your thoughts below.
