Refuse! You promised youd quit! I shouted.
George, have you lost your mind? Eleanor gasped, pulling herself together. Who ever turns down a job like that? Do you know what the salary is?
It’s all about the money, George replied dismissively. Or has power gone to your head?
Readers hate scenes where the heroine weeps over a cold cup of tea. But our heroine never drinks coffee, and the moment we first meet her is set over that very tepid tea, so the tea stays.
You could swap the tea for a glass of juice or a mug of milk, but it wouldnt lighten the melancholy of her thoughts.
Eleanor sat in a plush armchair, though she perched uncomfortably at the edge, her heavy head bowed over the cooling tea. Her mind was heavy, and the situation seemed hopeless.
One comfort was that her son didnt see any of this. A monthlong summer camp in the Cotswolds had taken him away, promising to return happy and wellbehaved.
The camp contributed a little to the strain, but only indirectly.
The real cause was George, her husband. The word was was ambiguouswas he still her husband, or was that a thing of the past? It was the classic Schrödingers husband dilemma that plagued Eleanor. Was he there now, or not?
The last words George had spoken before slamming the door echoed in my mind:
Enough! I dont want to see you again! Youve ruined my life! Im leaving!
It sounded clear enoughhe left. But the details were hazy. Was it a temporary exit or a permanent one? If temporary, how long? Until nightfall, or for a few days? If forever, why hadnt he taken his things?
No clarifying answers came.
If we rewound to the moment the scandal began, perhaps Georges outburst would make sense. In truth, the summer camp was to blame. Eleanor had paid for it with her bonus, not even using the whole sum. George complained loudly about the expense made without him.
Spending £40,000 from the family budget doesnt require a genius, just a discussion! Perhaps we have more pressing needs right now?
Eleanor shrugged. We have the money. If we need something, lets buy it!
She had heard Georges tirade while he stormed out the door, and it hurt. Fourteen years of marriage were cracking under his words.
The worst part was that Eleanor was, in her own view, blameless. In Georges eyes, she was the worst wife ever.
If you loved me, you wouldnt meddle where you dont belong! Sit quietly and enjoy life! All you want is to jump ahead, to outshine everyone!
And what about me? You think only of yourself! If you cared about our family, youd be the perfect housewife, work quietly and tend the home!
Eleanor couldnt see what shed done wrong. She lived, worked, kept the house tidy, raised their son, and showed George affection. She asked him straight out why he was so angry. He answered with more shouting, accusations, and demands.
What? Why? For what? Eleanor asked, while the tea continued to cool. And if the moneys been saved for ages, why now? Why does the camp matter now?
***
Commercial office blocks in the City are a nightmare for anyone without a map. Yet the staff inside eventually learn the buildings layout and can navigate it like a hive of busy bees.
That hive is where Eleanor and George first crossed paths. Both were sales reps hired straight out of school, given a phone and a cold list of prospects, and expected to spend days calling and pitching.
By the time they met, theyd already proved their worth and earned permanent spots on the payroll. The pressure and constant stress drove them to escape the office for lunch in the nearby park, where their eyes finally met.
They worked for different firms, and perhaps without that park their lives would have stayed separate.
When two people share the same woes, they finish each others sentences, their souls instinctively reaching out. A mutual attraction blossomed, and their brief marriage seemed inevitable.
They decided not to rush into children. Eleanor owned a flat inherited from her grandmother, but she wanted the home to be full of love, which meant working hard.
Life cant be put on hold when youth is still shouting its demands. The young couple wanted to give themselves to each other, yet they postponed, spending evenings swapping work triumphs and mishaps.
After three years together, Eleanor faced a choice.
Ive been offered a promotion, she said. And Im expecting.
Good heavens! George exclaimed. Thats brilliant!
Whats got you so thrilled? Eleanor asked with a grin.
The baby, of course! The promotion wont disappear, but a child does need to be born! George replied.
Only later did Eleanor realise the real bargain. At that point George had no promotion on the horizon; hed chosen a child over a raise for her.
While Eleanor was on maternity leave, the entire financial burden fell on George. As a sales manager, his base salary was modest; the real earnings came from commissions. He did his best, but no promotion materialised.
When Eleanor returned, the same promotion shed previously turned down was placed before her. From then on a vague nervous tension lingered in their home.
Eleanor blamed it on jealousy over their son; George started staying later at work. Their simultaneous promotions turned into a double celebration: George became senior manager, Eleanor headed a department.
George was stingy with congratulations but generous with thanks when praised. He began urging Eleanor to spend more time at home.
Soon Ill be heading the whole division, he said. Why waste your days in dusty offices? Youre better off with the kids and the house. Ill provide.
George, I cant quit now that Ive just been promoted, Eleanor protested. People trust me, they rely on me!
So work matters more than family? George asked. The question was uncomfortable. Eleanor cared about everythingher job, her home, her son.
Ill finish my current tasks, then Ill wrap up and resign, she suggested.
George agreed, unaware of the senior managements plans for her. It was a test to see if she could run a branch on her own.
When George handed her a copy of the transfer order, Eleanor was stunned.
I didnt even ask for this! No one consulted me! The regional director dropped by, handed me the order, flowers, congratulationsbefore I could speak! she stammered.
Refuse! George declared firmly. Come back on Monday and turn it down. You promised youd quit!
George, have you gone mad? Eleanor snapped, gathering herself. Who walks away from a role like that? Do you know the salary?
We could renovate the house, buy a car, send Victor to a good school! We could finally take a proper holiday instead of saving for three years!
George sneered, Youre after the money, arent you? Or has power gone to your head?
I think of the family first, Eleanor replied. I manage work, keep the house spotless, cook, look after Victor, and still find time for you.
Georges complaints faded after Eleanor bought a new car herself and handed him the keys. Balance was restored; the family atmosphere brightened. They fixed the house, enrolled Victor in a top school, and holidayed twice a year.
Then a new problem arose.
We need a second car, Eleanor said. I miss driving the first one.
What, am I not good enough as a driver? George retorted.
Theyd still been sharing the same office building.
Im being transferred to headquarters, Eleanor said, shrugging. Its downtown. If you drive me there, youll be stuck in traffic forever.
George sighed, resigned. If we must, why? Is the move really necessary?
Weve done this before, Eleanor answered. And while they still fancy you, you should take every advantage they give.
Soon the younger, eager staff would replace us, so we must save now and not miss out on profit.
George muttered, Right, right
Then the summer camp resurfaced. £40,000just a fraction of Eleanors bonushad been spent on Victors place at the Cotswolds. If it were her last bonus, she might have understood Georges outrage, but it was only half of what he expected.
Over a cooling cup of tea, the pieces finally fell into place.
Envy! George shouted, a sudden clarity dawning. Its plain envy! I never moved beyond senior manager!
For George, £40,000 was more than half his annual salary; for Eleanor, it was modest. Hed only climbed one rung after fifteen years.
Memories flooded back of George insisting Eleanor quit and become a housewife, never to outstrip him. When the rift seemed unbridgeable, George snapped over something even larger.
The clatter of a turning key in the lock shattered Eleanors reverie. It could only have been George. She leaned back, allowing herself a languid, relaxed posture.
Im home, George announced, stepping into the room.
Back for your things? Eleanor asked.
He shot her a scornful glance. Im home! Home!
No! Eleanor retorted, a smile twisting. Youre back for your stuff! I wont live with you any longer!
Sorry, he muttered, heading for the sofa.
No forgiveness! Eleanor snapped harder. Im not going to forgive you! Youd better not have come back! Youve already said everything!
Ive made my decision. I dont need a husband who cant achieve anything, and Im not to blame for earning more than you! she declared. Im not at fault for the accusations you hurled at me! After work I still managed the house, raised Victor, and gave you attention!
Youre exhausted after work, thats all. You probably treated your job the same way, she added, eyes blazing. It doesnt matter now. Pack your things and go!
What, feeling empowered? George shouted. Everyone knows how youve chased those promotions! Youre the boss, too!
The tea had long gone cold. The impact could have been worse, but George merely wiped his face.
With a fresh cup of tea still warm, Eleanor realised that from the start of their romance George had been driven by rivalry. He lived to outdo her, and the larger the gap, the more it eroded his love. Whether love ever truly existed, she would ponder over another cup.
