His wife packed her belongings and vanished in an unknown direction.
“Stop acting like a saint. Itll all work out. Women always calm down, shell shout and settle down eventually. The main thing is, the goals accomplished. Weve got a son now; the family line carries on.”
Diane kept silent.
“George,” Diane leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper, “You told me last week youd ‘handled’ Sophies pregnancy. What did you mean?”
George put down his fork and leaned back in his chair.
“Exactly what it sounds like. Shes been making excuses for years. ‘Not ready,’ ‘my career,’ ‘lets wait.’ But when? Im thirty-two, Di. I wanted a son. A proper family, like everyone else.
So… I swapped her pills.”
Diane stared at him, stunned.
“Did you tell her? When?”
“That very day, when she left,” George muttered. “She started screaming. I just told her to get used to it. This is what she always wanted, I just helped move things along.”
I thought shed settle down, realise she had no choice. But shes mad. Grabbed her bag and stormed off.
***
On the kitchen table, next to a pile of unwashed bottles, lay her brothers forgotten hairbrush.
Diane looked at it, feeling irritation begin to simmer inside her. Why does it always have to be chaos?
In the cot of the next room, the baby had finally fallen asleep, but the silence brought no reliefan hour, two at most, and hed be awake screaming again.
Diane pulled her dressing gown tighter and reached for the kettle. Only a month before, theyd brought Sophieher sister-in-lawhome from hospital. George had been beaming, fussing, offering the nurses enormous bouquets, while Sophie
Sophie looked as though she were being led to the gallows, not home.
Diane had put it down to exhaustionthe first birth, hormones and all that. But really, she should have noticed sooner.
The hall door bangedher brother back from work. He strode into the kitchen, loosening his tie, making a beeline for the fridge.
“Anything decent to eat?” he asked, barely glancing at her.
“Macaroni in the pot. And I boiled some sausages.”
“George, hes only just gone to sleep. Try to keep it down, will you?”
George snorted, taking out a plate.
“Im worn out, Di. On my feet all day long. Clientsa load of trouble.”
“And hows the little chap?”
“The little chap is your son,” Diane put her mug on the table with a bit more force than shed intended. “His name is Arthur. And hes been shouting for three hours straight. Hes got stomach pain.”
“You can manage,” George shrugged, sitting at the table. “Youre a woman; its in your blood.”
“Mum dealt with you and me all on her own when Dad was away for work.”
Diane bit her lip. She wanted to hurl the plate at him.
She was here only temporarily, until she sorted out the rent arrears on her studio, but after two weeks had become an unpaid nanny, cook, and housekeeper.
Meanwhile, George acted as if nothing had happened, as if his wife hadnt walked out and vanished without a trace.
“Sophie called?” Diane asked, watching him wolf down his supper.
George froze, fork in mouth. His expression darkened for a moment.
“Wont answer. Just hangs up. Sophie, eh? Leaving her child how can someone do that?”
“Shes angry I swapped her birth control. To get her pregnant faster.”
“Youre a bastard, George,” Diane said quietly.
“What?!” His eyes widened. “I did it for the family! I bring home the money!”
And she abandoned her child! Whos at fault then?
“You took away her choice,” Diane stood abruptly. “You deceived the person you pretend to love. How did you think shed react? ‘Thank you, darling, for ruining my life’?”
“Oh, dont start,” George waved a hand. “Shell get over it. Where would she go? Babys here, her stuffs here. Shell run out of money and come crawling back. Meanwhile youll help out, wont you? Im swamped at workquarter ends coming up.”
Diane didnt reply. She left the kitchen and went to the nursery.
Arthur snuffled in his sleep, tiny fists clenched. Diane looked at him, her heart aching.
On one sidethis helpless little bundle, innocent in all this. On the otherSophie, whod been trapped.
She pitied them both.
She picked up her phone and opened her messages. Sophie had been online only three minutes ago. Diane typed, deleted, and re-typed for a long time.
“Sophie, its Diane. Im not asking you to come back to him. I just want to know youre all right. And its tough, being alone. Please, can we talk? No shouting.”
The reply came ten minutes later.
“Im in a hotel. In three days, I leave for a work trip to another city for three weeks. Planned it before I well, a while ago. When Im back, Ill file for divorce. Im not abandoning Arthur. Diane, I cant be there right now. I cant even look at him. All I see is George!”
Diane sighed.
“I understand. Truly. George told me everything.”
“And how is he? Proud of himself?”
“Something like that. Hes sure youll come back.”
“He can keep dreaming. Diane, if it gets too muchjust tell me. Ill find a way to get a nanny, send money. But Ill never go back to him. Never.”
Diane put the phone down and let out a long breath. She needed to find work, pay her debts, get her own life sorted.
But she couldnt leave Arthur with George, who didnt know which way up a nappy went.
***
The next three days felt like a drawn-out nightmare.
George came home late, ate, and dropped straight into bed. Every request for help with the baby met: “Im knackered,” or, “Youre better at settling him than me.”
One night, Arthur cried so loud that Diane broke.
She went to her brothers room and switched on the light.
“Get up,” she said, voice icy.
George screwed his eyes shut, burying his head under the pillow.
“Di, go away. Ive got to get up at six.”
“I dont care. Go and rock your son. He wants feeding, and I physically cant because my hands are shaking from exhaustion.”
“Youre out of your mind,” George sat up, ruffled and furious. “Thats why youre here! I give you a roof, pay for the bills!”
“Oh, is that it?” Diane snapped. “So Im just hired help?”
“Call it what you want,” he grumbled. “When Sophies back, you can rest. Until thenget on with it.”
Diane left the room in silence.
She hardly slept that night, sitting in the kitchen, rocking the cradle with her foot, wondering how to teach her brother a lesson. George had gone too far.
Once George had left for work in the morning, Diane wrote to Sophie again.
“We have to meet. Today, while hes out. Please.”
Sophie agreed.
They met in a small square near the flats.
Sophie looked dreadfulpale, dark-ringed eyes, thinner than before.
She walked to the pram and stared at her son for a long time. Her hands trembled.
“Hes grown,” she said quietly. “Changed so much in just two weeks”
“He doesnt know you, Sophie,” Diane said gently.
“I know,” Sophie covered her face. “Di, Im not a monster. I suppose I love him. Deep down, I feel hes my child. But the thought of living with George, of sharing a bed with someone who tricked me so cruelly suffocates me.”
“What if you didnt have to live with George?” Diane asked.
Sophie looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“Hes convinced you have nowhere else to go. He thinks you and Arthur belong to him. But lets be honest: hes not a father. Hes a project manager running a family as if its an ideal set-up. He doesnt get up in the night, doesnt even know how to mix the formula. He just wanted an heir, not the effort of raising him.”
“And what are you suggesting?”
“You go away on your work trip,” Diane began firmly. “Work, get your strength back. Ill stay here for three more weeks. But in that time, Ill prepare everything.”
“What exactly?”
“Divorce. And custody. Sophie, you dont have to go back. You can rent a flat. Ill move in with you and help with Arthur while youre at work. My finances are looking up, I found some freelance work. Well manage, just the two of us. Without him.”
Sophie looked at her, mistrustful at first.
“Youll go against your brother?”
“Hes my brother, but what he did is vile. I dont want to be part of his deception. He thinks Im on his side because Ive nowhere else to go. Hes wrong.”
Sophie was silent for ages, watching a sunbeam dance across the pram.
“And what about him? He wont just hand over the baby. Hell kick up a scandal.”
“Hell make a fuss,” Diane nodded. “But weve got the upper hand. He admitted swapping her pills. If that comes out in court, with me as witness Ill back you on every detail. And his ‘help’ with maternity too. He doesnt want Arthur, Sophie. He just wants control. Once he realises looking after Arthur is actual hard graft, hell give up. Easier for him to play the wronged father to his mates than do any real parenting.”
For the first time in ages, Sophie managed a weak smile.
“Youve grown up, Diane.”
“I had to,” Diane sighed. “So? Agreed?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Three weeks passed in a blur.
George became increasingly irritable, finally noticing that Diane no longer rushed to serve him dinner the minute he came in.
“Whens Sophie back?” he demanded one evening, tossing his briefcase on the sofa.
“Tomorrow,” Diane replied, cradling Arthur.
“At last. I can finally go to a half-decent restaurantfed up with your macaroni. Ought to buy her a present to keep her quiet. A ring, maybe or earrings. Women like that sort of thing.”
Diane looked at him with near physical disgust.
“You really think a ring will fix everything?”
“Look,” George came over, attempting to pat her on the shoulder, but she drew away. “Stop acting like youre above it all. Everything will be fine. Women always calm down, dont they? Main thing is, the line continues. Weve a son now.”
Diane said nothing.
***
Next morning, Sophie arrived while George was at work. She didnt come up, waiting instead in her car. Diane had packed the babys things, her own bags, and essentials in advance.
It took three trips to carry everything out. Arthur slept peacefully in his car seat.
With the last bag down, Diane went back up to leave the keys. She placed them on the kitchen table, next to where Georges hairbrush had been three weeks earlier. She left a note beside them.
“Georgeweve left. Dont look for Sophie, shell be in touch through a solicitor. Arthurs with her. So am I.
You wanted a family, but forgot trust is the foundationnot manipulation. The macaronis in the fridge. Youll have to sort them out yourself now.”
They left.
Sophie rented a small but cosy flat on the other side of town. The first days were hard: Arthur was fussy in the unfamiliar place, Sophie kept bursting into tears, and Dianes phone never stopped ringing with angry messages and calls from George.
George raged down the line, threatened lawsuits, hurled insults. Vowed to take their son, leave them penniless.
Diane listened calmly.
They held their ground.
After a few days of fury, George subsided and faded away.
The divorce was settled in court. George never once said he wanted to raise Arthur himself.
Diane had been righther brother didnt want the headache. He preferred to buy off responsibility with maintenance payments.
He didnt even push for visits with his son.
