The key turned in the lock, and Eleanor, careful not to make a sound, slipped into the flat. The hallway was dark, save for a sliver of light creeping from the kitchen. Her parents were still awake, though the hour was well past midnight. Lately, this had become the normlong, hushed conversations behind closed doors, sometimes rising to muffled arguments.
Eleanor kicked off her heels, set her laptop bag on the side table, and tiptoed down the corridor to her room. She had no desire to explain why she was late, though the reason was valid enoughher project at work had been a nightmare, deadlines looming like storm clouds.
Through the wall, their voices carried, low but urgent.
“No, Edward, I cant go on like this,” her mother said, irritation sharp beneath the quiet tone. “You promised last month.”
“Margaret, be reasonablenow isnt the time,” her father countered, his voice thick with excuses.
Eleanor sighed, exhaustion settling deep in her bones. Lately, her parents had been arguing constantly, yet around her, they pretended everything was fine. They were in their fifties, she was grownbut it still stung to think something was wrong between them.
She changed, washed her face, and climbed into bed, but sleep wouldnt come. Her thoughts circled the same worries. Her brother, James, lived in another city, visiting rarely. If her parents divorced, who would stay with whom? What would happen to the flat? And why were they hiding their troubles?
The murmurs beyond the wall persisted. Eleanor reached for her headphones, wanting to drown out their secrets with music, but her hand brushed her phone instead, sending it clattering to the carpet. As she picked it up, the voice recorder app flickered open. Her finger hovered over the screen.
What if she recorded them? Just to know, to stop the guessing. If she asked outright, theyd brush her off, insist everything was fine.
Guilt prickled like ice down her spine. Eavesdropping was wrong, especially like this. But they were her parents, her family. Didnt she have the right to know if something was truly wrong?
Before she could reconsider, she pressed record, set the phone closer to the wall, and pulled the duvet over her head.
The next morning, the kitchen air was thick with silence. Her parents moved around each other like strangers, exchanging only the barest pleasantries.
“You were late last night,” her mother remarked, pouring tea. “Another deadline?”
“Yes, the projects dragging on,” Eleanor nodded. “You two were up lateeverything alright?”
“Oh, just watching a film,” her mother waved a hand, eyes fixed on the kettle.
Her father buried himself in the newspaper, feigning sudden interest in the finance section.
“Dont wait up for me tonight,” he said, still not looking up. “Client negotiationsmight run late.”
Her mothers lips thinned, but she said nothing.
The Tube was too crowded to listen to the recording, and shame kept her from trying. Shed wait until evening.
The day crawled. When she finally got home, her mother was outa note on the counter said shed gone to a friends. Her father, true to his word, was still at work. Perfect.
Curled on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, she pressed play.
At first, only fragments were audible, then the voices sharpened.
“tell Eleanor?” Her father sounded strained.
“I dont know,” her mother sighed. “Im afraid she wont understand. After all this time.”
“But she has a right to know.”
“Of course she does, but how do we explain why weve kept it secret?”
Eleanor froze. What truth had they hidden?
“Remember how it started?” Her fathers voice softened, almost smiling.
“How could I forget?” Her mother chuckled. “I thought it was temporary. Turns out, it was for life.”
“And what a life its been,” he said wryly. “Though there were hard years.”
“Especially after Eleanor came.”
Her heart clenched. What did that mean? Had she been unwanted? Or was it something else?
“But we managed,” her father continued. “And she turned out splendid.”
“She did,” her mother murmured, pride warming the words, and Eleanor relaxed slightly. “But now we must decide whats next. Im tired of this double life, Edward.”
Double life? The words iced her veins. Was one of them having an affair? Or worseboth? The thought made her sick.
“Margaret, lets wait until James visits. Well talk as a family.”
“Fine,” her mother relented. “But no more delays after that. Either we change everything, or I dont know what.”
The recording cut offperhaps theyd left the kitchen, or the phone had stopped.
Eleanor sat stunned. What was happening to her family? What double life? Why wait for James to explain?
A thousand questions, no answers. Record them again? No, that felt too far. Shame burned her cheeks. Shed call James. Or Aunt Charlotteher mothers sister, always honest with her.
Decision made: tomorrow, shed ring James. This weekend, shed visit Aunt Charlotte.
Her brother didnt answer all day, finally calling back near dusk.
“Ellie, hi! Sorryleft my phone in the van. Whats up?”
“James, when are you visiting?” No preamble.
“This weekend, why?”
“Parents are acting strange. Whispering, pretending everythings fine. Mentioned a double life.”
A pause.
“James?”
“Yeah, Im here,” he cleared his throat. “Dont overthink it. People have secrets, even parents.”
“So you know?”
“I have an idea,” he hedged. “But if theyre not ready to talk, neither am I. Wait for me, yeah? Well talk Saturday.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Should I visit Aunt Charlotte?”
“Dont,” he said too quickly. “Keep her out of it. This stays between us.”
The call left her more unsettled. So he knew. And wanted Aunt Charlotte kept away. Affairs, then? A family scandal theyd rather not spread?
That evening, her mother returned from her friends in high spirits, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
“Can you believe it? Lydias selling her flat! Moving to the countrysidesays shes sick of the city.”
Eleanor nodded, unsure how to respond.
“Would you ever want to?” she blurted. “Live in the country?”
Her mother stilled, then answered carefully, “I dont know sometimes, yes. The quiet, the air, a garden.”
“And Dad?”
“What about him?”
“Would he want to?”
“Ask him yourself,” her mother said, suddenly serious. “Hell be late. Dont wait up.”
Miraculously, her father returned early. She was making tea when the front door clicked shut.
“Dad, want some?”
“Please,” he called, loosening his tie as he entered. “Wheres your mum?”
“Watching a film. How was work?”
“Fine,” he sank into a chair. “Client agreed to terms. Projects greenlit.”
“Brilliant,” she handed him a mug. “Dad is it true you and Mum have something to tell me?”
He startled. “What makes you say that?”
“James let it slip,” she lied, avoiding his eyes. “Said youd explain when he visits.”
Edward rubbed his temples. “Yes, theres something. But lets wait for James, alright? Its best that way.”
“Is it bad?” she pressed. “Are you two splitting up?”
“What?” He looked genuinely shocked. “No! Whered you get that idea?”
“Youre always whispering, arguing. Mum mentioned a double life.”
Confusion, then understanding, thenrelief?flickered across his face.
“Ellie, youve got it all wrong,” he sighed. “No ones divorcing. Quite the opposite” He trailed off. “Just wait till Saturday, alright? Promise, its nothing bad.”
“Youre sure?”
“Positive.” He squeezed her hand. “Now drink your tea before its cold.”
That night, sleep eluded her. Fragments of conversation swirledher fathers “quite the opposite,” her mothers odd smile. If not divorce, what? Illness? Money troubles? Moving? The last thought chilled her. Shed only just started her career, made friends. Loved London.
Yet something didnt add up. What had he meant by “opposite”? Opposite of divorce was marriage? But theyd been wed thirty years. Renewing vows? A second honeymoon?
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Still awake?” Her mother peered in.
“No. You?”
“Just thinking,” her mother perched on the beds edge. “What did you and your father discuss?”
“Nothing much. Work. James visiting.”
“I know,” her mother nodded
