One winters morning, long ago, I knew something was about to change. Not good, not badjust a shift in the air itself. It was a Monday in February, cold and grey. I made tea as usual, while Edward sat at the table, scowling at his phone. He drummed his fingers impatiently, silent until he finally spoke.
“Listen, Victoria,” he said abruptly. “Im leaving tomorrow.”
My spoon clattered against the saucer.
“Where?”
“South. Sun, seafinally some proper rest. Booked the tickets already.”
I stirred my tea, the warmth fading as my thoughts tangled. Wed saved for two years for a holiday togetherskipping meals, mending old coats instead of buying new ones. All for nothing.
“What about me?” I asked. “My holiday request hasnt been approved yet.”
“So?” He shrugged. “Dyou think I enjoy being stuck here? Im worn to the bone with this dull routine.”
“And my feelings dont matter?”
“Moneys half mine,” I snapped. “We saved it together.”
He stood so sharply the chair scraped. “I work too, dont I? Ill rest when I please!”
That was the first crack. Lately, hed become a strangeralways clutching his phone, even locking himself in the loo with it. Once, hed leave it lying about without care.
I watched him pack. New swim trunks, a garish shirtnothing like his usual taste. When had he bought these?
“If theres spare cash, Ill bring you a souvenir,” he said, zipping his suitcase.
A souvenir. How generous.
The door slammed. Alone, I tried to reason with myselfperhaps he truly needed this. Perhaps hed just forgotten me.
Then his phone buzzed on the table. I glanced. The screen lit with a messagethe words half-hidden by the lock: “Kitten, at the airport. Waiting till”
Kitten. He hadnt called me that in five years. Said pet names were childish.
Ten minutes later, he returned for the phone, eyeing me warily.
“Whatre you doing?”
“Being at home,” I said. “Is that allowed?”
He snatched the phone, checking if Id touched it. Then he kissed my forehead like I was a tiresome child.
“Dont sulk. Ill bring you something nice.”
And he was gone.
I sat there, my heart pounding. Who was this “Kitten”? Why so frantic?
Then, as if waking, I movedthrew on my coat, hailed a cab to Heathrow. A foolish expense, but I had to know.
And there she waslaughing, clinging to him, a girl of twenty with long hair and a figure poured into that same garish shirt Id seen in our wardrobe. Edward whispered in her ear; she giggled.
A year and a half of scrimping, and all the while, hed been planning this.
I wanted to scream, to slap him. But they were already boarding. Too late.
Outside, I crumpled onto a bench, weeping as if my heart had been torn out. Passersby stared. I didnt care.
Snow begangentle at first, then thick. I sat frozen, numb, unable to move.
Then a voice: “Miss you alright?”
I turned. A man stood there, threadbare coat, hair tousled by the wind, face raw with cold.
“Need help?” he asked gently.
“Help?” I laughed bitterly. “Nothing can help me now.”
“Its never as bad as it seems,” he said softly. “Ive a bit of work goingcould use a hand, temporary-like.”
I studied him. Wed both lost something today. But at least he wore his shame openly.
“Come home with me,” I decided. “Have a proper meal, warm up.”
“Truly?” He looked startled. “Im a stranger.”
“Planning to murder me?”
“No.” He smiled faintly. “Just down on my luck.”
“Then come. Edward ate everything before he left.”
The cabbie grumbled, but I paid extra, and we rode in silence.
He introduced himself as Thomas. A trained engineer, hed lost his job, then his flat. His wife had left for her mothers, saying, “Come back when youve sorted yourself.”
I understood. Everyone carries their own grief.
At home, he went straight to the radiator, thawing his hands.
“Have a bath,” I offered. “Towels in the cupboard, Edwards robes there too.”
“Certain?”
“Quite. My husbands at a resort with his mistresshis robes going spare.”
While he bathed, I heated soup. Was I mad, inviting a stranger in? But the world had already tilted off its axis.
When he emerged, I scarcely recognised himneatly groomed, sharp-eyed, though Edwards robe hung comically short on him.
“Sure youre not a vagrant?” I teased.
“Quite sure,” he chuckled. “Just hit a rough patch.”
Over supper, he spoke of his workengineering for a firm that went under, unpaid wages, futile job hunts. “Too old at forty,” he said wryly.
“Savings didnt last. The wife stuck it out awhile, then said she wouldnt live like a pauper.”
“Love before the first hardship,” I mused.
“Aye.”
I told him of the airport, the message from “Kitten,” our savings, Edwards betrayal.
“And now?” he asked.
“Ill file for divorce. The flat was my mothers. Ive my job. Ill manage.”
“Children?”
“Never happened,” I sighed. “He kept saying not yet. Now I know why.”
“Perhaps a mercy,” Thomas said gently. “With a man like that”
“Aye.” At least no child would ask why Daddy holidayed with another.
After supper, he asked to watch the newshadnt seen telly in months. I agreed, tidying the kitchen. When I returned, hed nodded off in the armchair. I left him be.
By dawn, he was gone. A note lay on the table: “Thank you. You saved me. If I find work, Ill repay you.”
A strange sadness took meas if something bright had slipped away.
The weeks blurred. I filed for divorce, packed Edwards things, changed the locks.
I worked late, avoiding the flats emptiness. Colleagues whispered, but home was worsetoo many ghosts, too much silence.
Edward called. I ignored him. Then came the texts”We need to talk.” What was left to say?
One evening, laden with groceries, I found him at the door, red-faced.
“Whats this?” he spat. “Why wont my key work?”
“Changed the locks,” I said flatly.
“Gone mad, have you? This is my home too!”
“Was. Now its yours.” I handed him the divorce papers.
His face twisted. “Youre serious?”
“Quite. Hows Kitten? Lost your tan already?”
He sneered. “Im in my prime! I need passion! Whatve you given me but drudgery?”
“I gave you eighteen months of savings,” I said. “You spent them.”
He raised a hand. I flinchedbut no blow came.
“Victoria! You alright?”
I opened my eyes. Thomas stood therebut utterly changed: smart suit, well-groomed, two men in expensive overcoats beside him.
Edward staggered back, rubbing his jaw.
“You?” I gasped. “Thomas?”
“The very same,” he smiled. “Promised Id find work. Landed better than I hoped.”
Then I weptall the hurt, exhaustion, shock pouring out. Thomas guided me gently to his car.
“Come home with me,” he said. “Ill explain everything.”
Over tea, he told methat night, hed seen a job advert on the news. A top firm needed experienced engineers, no
