“Whats this now? Where are you off to? Whos going to make dinner? Why are you in such a hurry? Someones got to cook!” snapped the husband, watching what his wife, Antonia, was doing after yet another row with his mother.
Antonia glanced out the window. Gloomy clouds hung low, even though spring had begun. In their little town up in northern England, sunny days were rare. Maybe thats why the people who lived there always seemed so grim and distant.
Lately, Antonia had noticed she hardly ever smiled anymore. The permanent crease on her forehead made her look ten years older.
“Mum! Im going for a walk,” announced her daughter, Emily.
“Right,” Antonia muttered.
“Whats that supposed to mean? Give me some money.”
“Since when do walks cost anything?” she sighed.
“Mum! Why the interrogation?!” Emily huffed. “Come on, hurry up! Thats it? Thats all youre giving me?”
“Its enough for an ice cream.”
“Tightwad,” Emily shot back, but her mother didnt hearthe girl had already slammed the door behind her.
*I cant believe it* Antonia shook her head, remembering how sweet Emily had been before the teenage years hit.
“Toni, my stomachs growling! How much longer?” grumbled her husband, Thomas.
“Make it yourself,” she replied flatly, setting a plate on the table.
“Or you could bring it to me?”
Antonia nearly dropped the pan. *Who does he think he is?*
“Dinners in the kitchen, Tom. Take it or leave it,” she said, sitting down alone.
Fifteen minutes later, Thomas stomped in.
“Its cold ugh.”
“I left it out longer.”
“I asked you nicely! Not a shred of love or care! You know Im watching the match!” He shoveled chicken into his mouth. “Tastes rubbish.”
Antonia just rolled her eyes. Football turned Thomas into a different manthe bets, the jerseys, the pricey ticketsyet hed never cared about sports when they were young.
Without sitting, he grabbed a beer and a bag of crisps and marched back to the telly. Meanwhile, Antonia stayed behind to scrub the dishes.
*No point trying. No one appreciates it.*
She was exhausted after her shift as a senior nurse at the hospital. Patients came to her with their pains and problems, leaving her drained. Home wasnt a refugejust another shift. Cooking, cleaning, fetching.
“Any more left?” Thomas yanked open the fridge. “Whys it gone?”
“You drank it all! Am I supposed to buy that too? Have some decency, Tom!” she snapped.
“Someones turning posh” he sneered before slamming the door and storming off to “restock the reserves” for the next match.
Antonia decided to sleepwork waited tomorrow. But she couldnt. She worried about Emily. Where was she? Who was she with? It was dark, and Emily still wasnt home. She didnt dare callher daughter would just scream.
*”You embarrass me in front of my friends! Stop calling!”* Emily would shout. After that, Antonia gave up, telling herself Emily had just turned eighteen. No job, no studiesjust a “gap year to find herself.”
Just as she dozed off, Thomass cheers startled her awake. Someone mustve scored. Then he and the neighbour, whod dropped by, started loudly debating the game. Later, the neighbour brought his girlfriend over, and the three of them cheered like mad.
Emily finally stumbled in late, clattering plates before stomping off to bed. When silence finally fell, Antonia drifted offonly for the cat to start yowling for food.
“Can no one else in this house feed the cat?!” Furious, sleep-deprived, and nursing a migraine, she stormed out. She wanted them to hearbut Emily had headphones in, lazily scrolling her phone. Thomas had passed out in front of the telly, beer still in hand.
*”Ive had enough bloody had enough!”* thought Antonia.
The next morning, her mother-in-laws call jolted her awake.
“Antonia, love, you havent forgotten its time to plant the veg, have you? We need to sort the allotment.”
“I remember,” Antonia sighed.
“Good. Well go tomorrow.”
Her one day off vanished under Veras watchful eye.
“Thats not how you sweep! Hold the broom properly!” Vera barked from her perch on the bench.
“Im nearly fifty, Vera. I can manage,” Antonia dared to say.
“And Thomas”
“Where is Thomas? Why didnt he drive his mother? Why did we have to rattle on a bus for three hours? And youalways Thomas this, Thomas that!”
“Hes tired.”
“And Im not?”
Then it all spilled out. Antonia regretted speaking upVera loved a good lecture. But her fairness only flowed one way. All her life, Vera had coddled Thomas, while Antonia was just the unpaid help she tolerated.
They rode home in silence, sitting as far apart as possible. The next day, Vera complained to her son, and Thomas exploded.
“How dare you talk back to my mum?!” he growled. “If it werent for her”
“What?” Antonia crossed her arms. Shed had enough of being treated like a doormat.
“Youd still be at the clinic!” He played his trump cardVera had pulled strings to get Antonia a better-paid hospital job. The stress had aged her, and more than once, she wished shed stayed at the quiet local clinic. “Oi, where dyou think youre going?”
Thomas was stunned by what Antonia did next.
What she did he never saw it coming.
