I’m leaving! Edward shouted.
Leaving where? his wife, lost in a mental inventory of groceries, asked.
Completely.
How can you be completely? Irene asked, her brow furrowing. What about NewYears?
The jokes about infidelity are funny only in sitcoms: Your lover called the horse races are cancelled! Your fish called theyve run out of roe! Its easy to promise forever. In real life its ugly and far from amusing.
Edward walked out before NewYears, not to a distant airport or a faroff train station, but straight through the front door, boots clicking on the polished floor, trailing the faint scent of the expensive cologne Ivy had given him for Christmas.
He had spent weeks packing, pulling out boxes, and rehearsing his speech, trying to make her understand, to beg forgiveness theres even a TV programme about that. And God himself seemed to be on his side.
The Christmas tree was already trimmed. Ivy, perched on the sofa, was planning the festive outfits, the menu, and scribbling a list of supplies. They were supposed to ring in the NewYear with friends.
The mood was upbeat, as it always is on the eve of a celebration: the night before the party is often more exciting than the party itself.
Fiftyfouryearold Irene Maximwell, now Irene Blakeloved the holiday, just like every other Brit. Only the streets were seeing less snow, and that dulled the festive sparkle a bit. Still, November brought the preChristmas sales.
Irene was a thrifty housewife; she prepared all the presents early, saving not just money but time, energy, and nerves. Everything was already sortedearrings for every sister, gifts for the children, grandchildren, and even for her beloved husband.
Edward had received a fine wool sweater with reindeersomething hed long dreamed of. It cost Irene a penny, but what wouldnt you do for the man you love?
All the parcels were wrapped, hidden, waiting for the right moment. What would he give her? A ring? No, perhaps cashEdward, at fiftythree, didnt have the best taste.
Then, out of the blue, he blurted, Im leaving!
Leaving where? Ivy asked, still clutching her grocery list.
Completely.
What do you mean completely? Irene pressed. What about NewYears?
What NewYears, Irene? Edward sneered. When will you ever grow up?
He pronounced each syllable like a child with a speech impediment: Im leaving you! Completely! Understand?
Ive fallen in love with someone else, and were expecting a baby! Is that clear now?
The words hit her like a blow to the eyesblindingly clear.
She wanted to ask, And what about me? but that would have provoked the same outrage as questioning the NewYear plans.
Clearly, she was already aware of his secret rendezvous, the place where they had intended to spend the holiday together.
His rival was far younger than Ireneclassic scenario, the better one.
Edward recounted all this with unsettling enthusiasm. Why would he run to an older womans house? He seemed delighted.
He boasted that his new love would soon give him an heirtwo adult daughters with Ivy were already his legacy. Finally, a son!
But it was unclear what he would inherit. He couldnt match his wifes earnings; the two flats she owned were hers alone. Their modest twobedroom flat only listed him as a tenant, and the singleroom flat was let out.
Irene, however, refused to add another drop of poison to the pot of delicacieslet him wallow in his fantasies. She had other concerns; her happy little world had collapsed in an instant.
We met at the office party! Edward declared cheerfully.
And why should I care? Irene replied, disgusted.
Well, why? he asked, eager to talk about his new obsession.
This is lofty sentiment for you, but for me its filth! Irene spat, her gaze a mix of disbelief and hurt. She realized he wasnt even trying to hide it; he didnt grasp the agony he caused.
For the first time she wondered whether she had overestimated his intellect.
Edward slipped into his new, supposedly happy life, while Irene felt frozen, like the stone statues on Easter Island. No scream, no tears, only numbness.
Edward left, and she sat with her unfinished list, the items now meaningless.
Twentyeight years of marriage should have meant comforta solid family, reliable support, grownup children. But perhaps that wasnt enough; it turned out everything had only seemed solid to her.
On autopilot, Irene crossed Prosecco off the listEdwards favorite drink. Then she collapsed onto the sofa, thoughts evaporated, a void taking over.
Three hours passed like a minute. Did she sleep? The room darkened. The phone rangher friend Tasha called.
What should we bring for Igors place? Tasha asked.
Edwards gone! Irene whispered.
He really left? Tasha repeated.
How could I have known? Irene replied, stunned.
Everyone knew, Tasha said after a pause. Igor worked with Edward.
You knew and said nothing? Irene shouted.
Yes! Tasha snapped. Youll reconcile and what will I do?
Both fell silent, then Irenes voice faded.
Tasha was right. Yet the thought of spending NewYears with friends suddenly lost its appeal; there were two friends, and she was alone.
She couldnt stay home alone on the holiday, so she drove to her elderly mothers house, and on the first of January she visited her daughter, where the whole family was gathering.
There she announced that her husband had run off with a younger woman. Everyone already knew the betrayalhow could they have been blind?
Now, with the sting of infidelity fresh, she felt like a ruined statueher mood at rock bottom. She left the party early, walking home on foot through quiet snowcovered streets. The city was dazzlingly decorated, yet the crowds had thinned as everyone celebrated elsewhere.
She trudged along, the cold making her heart a little lighter.
Fine, let them be happy, she thought. I wont let this ruin me.
She wasnt the first, nor would she be the last, to survive such betrayal. Life would get easier without the weight of false accusations.
A year passed. Exactly one year ago, on December29th, her former husband walked out the door.
Again the Christmas tree stood tall. Again Irene penned a shopping list; she and Tasha had agreed to welcome the NewYear together, just as before.
She intended to introduce Tasha to her new boyfriend, Victor, who had just proposed to her.
What else? Let her sit alone on a dusty sofa?
She was independent, lively, and selfsufficient. He was charming, a carefree gentleman, a bit of a rogueeverything she needed.
Then the doorbell rang. Edward stood on the doorstep, a small backpack slung over his shoulder, a bundle in his hands.
Good grief, Irene muttered. Has he brought a baby?
He spoke aloud: What if I werent home?
Id have opened the lock for you! Edward replied.
What if I changed the locks?
You wouldnt? Youre still kind, he said, asking, Will you let me in?
Irene stepped aside; she couldnt turn away a baby. He slipped through the open door.
They moved to the bedroom, and Edward placed the sleeping infant on the bed.
How old is he? Irene asked, her voice flat.
Five months, Edward answered.
And wheres your lover? Have you asked the ash tree where she is? Irene snapped, her plans never involving a strangers child in her house.
My lover loves someone else now, Edward murmured.
Great, highsociety romance, Irene retorted. Why are you here?
Dont undress him! Edward began to strip the baby.
What, you wont accept me? Edward, now halfunpacked, looked bewildered.
She realized she had overestimated him back thencomplete nonsense.
With a child? Irene scoffed. I wouldnt let you in, let alone a strangers baby.
Turn around and go, she said. I wont chase you out because I feel sorry.
She paused, then: Take him somewhere else, then!
I cant handle him alone! Forgive me, Ivysome demon led me here!
The demons just a night after a office party, thats all, Irene explained. When it becomes a longterm plan, its not a demon, its something else. Dont blame a higher power.
Dont look at me like thattake your child and leave. As Zochs saying goes, give everyone a share, there wont be enough to go around!
What if I dont leave? Edward asked suddenly.
Then you stay and Ill go, Irene replied lightly; she still planned to celebrate at Tashas.
Victor had already offered her a place to live. She added, After the holidays Ill be gone, so you wont have me.
You have no right to a say here, she said. Im not selling the flat and splitting it.
Edward hadnt expected any of this; he simply couldnt manage alone with a baby.
His lover had vanished two days ago, leaving a note: Dont look for me, youre boring me.
He took a few days off, then the long festive break arrived.
It wasnt a holiday for himbut Ivy, ever kind and caring, kept the home warm, and thats why he returned.
Make yourself comfortable; Ill get ready, Irene said, as if nothing had changed.
What are you doing? Edward asked, nervous.
Your business is none of mine. I told you Im leaving! Now you can change diapers, feed, do whatever new dads do. Ive forgotten everything! she snapped, exiting the room.
Was she joking? No, she seemed dead serious.
If she wasnt joking, perhaps he should go to his mothershe was seventyfive but spry enough to help at first, then find a nanny.
Irene was in the bathroom when the front door slammed: Edward was gone. On the bed lay a crumpled tissue. Did he cry? she thought with a wry smile. Better late than never.
She felt no pityfor the cute baby, for the manwhy should she? A year ago, Edward didnt care about her either.
Hed simply stepped over everything and walked away, thinking it was his freedom.
She told herself, Time to go to the shop; I promised to bake lasagne for the feast. Victor loved lasagne; Edward hated Prosecco, she liked it.
Now she thought only of Victor.
Her gift for him was already ready: the same reindeer sweater Edward missed last year, a perfect fit for any man. Men love reindeer, after all.
