The Carer for the Wife — What do you mean? — Lida thought she’d misheard. — Where am I supposed to go? Why? What for? — Oh, come on, let’s not have a scene, alright? — he grimaced. — What’s not clear? There’s no one left for you to care for. Where you go isn’t my concern. — Eddie, what’s wrong with you? We were going to get married… — That was all your idea. I never said I was planning anything like that. At thirty-two, Lida decided to completely change her life and leave her small town behind. What was there left for her at home? Just listening to her mum’s constant criticism? Her mother never let up, always blaming Lida’s divorce on her. As if she’d let a good husband slip through her fingers. But that Vasya wasn’t worth a kind word—nothing but a drunk and a cheat! How did she even end up marrying him eight years ago? Lida didn’t even feel upset by the divorce—if anything, it felt like she could finally breathe easy. But arguments with her mother cropped up regularly because of it. Money was another constant cause of fights—they were always short. So, off she’d go to the city and sort her life out there! Her old school friend, Susan, had been married for five years now to a widower. And so what if he was sixteen years older than her and no heartthrob—but he had a flat, and money. And Lida thought, why shouldn’t she end up as well as Susan? — Well, thank goodness! You’ve finally come round! — Susan encouraged her. — Get packed quickly, you can stay with us for a start, and we’ll sort out work. — Won’t your husband mind, Susan? — Lida hesitated. — Not at all! He does everything I ask! Don’t worry, we’ll manage! Still, Lida didn’t want to stay long at her friend’s. After a couple of weeks scraping by on her first earnings, she rented a room. Then, within a couple of months, her luck changed for the better. — What’s a woman like you doing selling veg at the market? — regular customer Mr. Edward said sympathetically. Lida had come to know all the regulars by name. — Cold and miserable—and not right either. — What else can I do? — she waved a hand. — Got to make a living somehow. Then she added, flirtatiously: — Or have you got another offer? Edward was not exactly Lida’s idea of a dream man. At least twenty years older, puffy and balding, with a shrewd gaze. He always picked through the veg, paid to the nearest penny, but dressed well, arrived in a nice car—clearly no deadbeat. He did have a wedding ring, though, so husband material he was not. — I can see you’re responsible, sensible, clean—Edward switched to addressing her more familiarly—have you ever looked after unwell people? — Once. I cared for a neighbour after her stroke—the kids lived far away, couldn’t be bothered, so they asked me. — Excellent! — he brightened, then looked rather mournful. — My own wife, Pamela, has taken ill. Stroke, too. Doc says not much hope of recovery. I brought her home, but can’t look after her myself. Will you help? I’ll pay fairly. Lida didn’t need to think long. Better a warm flat—even if it meant emptying bedpans—than ten hours in the cold serving fussy customers! And Edward even offered her a place to stay, so no rent to pay. — Three separate bedrooms! Enough space for football! — Lida reported delightedly to her friend. — No kids. Pamela’s mother—bit of a character, sixty-eight, still trying to look young—had just remarried and had her hands full. There was no one else. — Is she really that badly off? — Oh yes… Not lucky, poor thing—just lies there, can’t say a word. Unlikely to get better. — You seem almost happy about it? — Susan looked hard at her. — Of course not—Lida looked away—but when Pamela’s gone, Edward will be free… — Have you lost your mind, Lida? Wishing someone dead? All for a flat?! — I’m not wishing anyone anything—but I won’t pass up a chance! Easy for you to talk, living the good life! They had a falling out then, and it was six months before Lida mentioned her new romance with Edward to Susan. They couldn’t live without each other, she confessed—but, of course, he’d never leave his wife; not that kind of man! So lovers they’d remain. — So you two carry on while his wife’s dying in the next room? — Susan was unimpressed. — Do you even see how wrong that is? Or are you so blinded by his supposed riches? — You never say a kind word! — Lida retorted. They stopped talking again, but Lida didn’t feel guilty—well, maybe a little. Everyone likes to pretend they’re so saintly! Whoever’s never been hungry doesn’t understand the hungry, as the saying goes. She didn’t need a friend anyway. Lida cared for Pamela with all the care and responsibility she could muster. Once her relationship with Eddie began, she took over all the household chores too. A man isn’t just to be pleased in bed, she reasoned—he needs good dinners, clean shirts, a spotless flat. Lida thought her lover was content, and so was she. She barely noticed that Eddie had stopped actually paying her for nursing his wife. But when you’re almost husband and wife, who cares about money? He gave her cash for groceries, and she did what she could, not noticing how tight it was getting. After all, his salary was a good one. Well—she thought—they’d sort all that once they were married. Passion cooled with time, and Eddie was slower and slower to get home, but Lida wrote it off as him being tired out by his sick wife. From what, she wasn’t sure—he barely saw his wife—but she felt sorry for him anyway. It was expected, but Lida cried all the same when Pamela died. After all, she’d devoted a year and a half to that woman—you couldn’t just write off that time. Lida handled the funeral, since Eddie was overcome by grief, he claimed. The money he gave her was just enough, but she did her best—it was all handled respectably. No one could fault her. Even the neighbours—for all their disapproving looks about her affair with Eddie; nothing escapes them—nodded approval at the funeral. His mother-in-law was pleased too. So Lida was completely unprepared for what Eddie said next. — As you’ll understand, you’re no longer needed here, so I’ll give you a week to move out — he said curtly, ten days after the funeral. — What do you mean? — Lida thought she’d misheard. — Where am I supposed to go? Why? — Let’s not have a scene, please — he winced. — There’s no one for you to look after. Where you go isn’t my concern. — Eddie, what’s with you? We were going to get married… — That was your idea. I never planned any of that. The next morning, after a sleepless night, Lida tried again, but he just repeated himself—and urged her to pack up. — My fiancée wants to redecorate before the wedding — said Eddie. — Your fiancée? Who? — None of your business. — Oh, not my business?! Fine! I’ll go, but you’ll pay me for the work first. Yep! And don’t look at me like that! You promised £400 a week. I only got paid twice. So you owe me £6,400. — Look how quick you are with the maths! — he sneered. — Don’t get your hopes up… — And you’ll pay for my cleaning services too! I’ll be generous—just give me £10,000, and we’ll part ways. — Or what? Take me to court? You don’t have a contract. — I’ll tell your mother-in-law — Lida said quietly. — She bought you this flat, didn’t she? Believe me—once she hears, you’ll be out of a job as well. You know her better than I do. Edward’s face changed, but he quickly recovered. — Who’s going to believe you? Who do you think you’re threatening? Just get out. Now. — Three days, darling. No ten grand—big scandal, — Lida packed and went to a hostel. She’d managed to put a little aside from the housekeeping money. Four days later, without getting any response, she showed up at Eddie’s flat. And as luck would have it—his mother-in-law was there. From Eddie’s face, Lida knew he wouldn’t pay. So, she told his mother-in-law everything. — She’s making it up! Don’t believe a word! — the widower burst out. — Well, I did hear some things at the funeral—but didn’t want to believe them, — his mother-in-law narrowed her eyes. — Now it’s all clear. And I hope it’s clear to you too, son-in-law. Remember—this flat’s in my name. Eddie froze. — So here’s the deal—don’t want to see you here in a week. No, three days. She started to leave, but paused by Lida. — And you, what are you waiting for, a medal? Out! Lida rushed out. She knew she’d never see her money now. Time to head back to the market—at least there, she could always find work… Carer for the Wife: Betrayal, False Promises, and a Heartbreaking Twist in the Pursuit of a Better Life

A Nurse for the Wife

What do you mean? Lucy thought she must have misheard. Move out? Where am I supposed to go? Why?
Oh please, can we skip the dramatics? he grimaced. Whats there not to get? There’s nobody for you to look after anymore. Where you go now is not my concern.
Eddie, are you serious? Werent we planning to get married?
You made that up yourself. That was never part of my plans.

At 32, Lucy had decided it was time for a fresh start away from her small hometown.

What was left for her there? More of Mums nagging?

Her mother couldnt let go of the divorce thing. Fancy letting your husband slip away, shed say.

But that idiot, Vas, hadnt been worth a kind word a drunk and a layabout! She still couldn’t believe she married him eight years ago.

Lucy wasnt even upset when the marriage ended actually, she felt like she could breathe again.

But it did mean endless rows with her mother, not just about that, but about money too, which was always tight.

So, Lucy set her sights on moving to Leicester and building a new life.

Take her old school friend, Sophie shed been married five years now to a widower.

So what if he was sixteen years older and no oil painting? He had a flat and money.

And Lucy thought, why should Sophie have all the luck?

About time, too! Sophie approved, supportive as ever. Pack your things, you can crash with us until youre sorted. Well find you a job in no time.

Are you sure your Dave wont mind? Lucy was doubtful.

Wont mind at all! Hed bend over backwards for me, dont worry! Well make it work!

Lucy didn’t want to overstay her welcome. A couple weeks at Sophies, and once she earned her first bit of money, she rented a room for herself.

Then, a stroke of luck came her way a few months later.

Whys a woman like you working out here in the cold? said one of her regulars at the market, Edward Sutton, with genuine concern.

Lucy knew her regular customers by name ages ago.

Not exactly glamorous, is it? she quipped. But Ive got to make a living.

She batted her eyelashes, half joking:

Unless youve got a better offer?

Edward didnt quite fit her idea of Prince Charming. He was at least 20 years older, on the portly side, balding, and had a sharp look in his eye.

But he always dressed nicely, drove a decent car, and paid every penny. Not your run-of-the-mill drunk, not at all.

He also wore a wedding ring, so Lucy never considered him as husband-material.

You seem reliable and tidy, Lucy Edward soon shifted to first names. Ever looked after anyone ill?

I have, actually. Took care of a neighbour after her stroke. Her kids live out of town and couldnt be bothered. They paid me to do it.

Perfect! said Edward, looking solemn. My wife, Margaret, is bedridden after a stroke. Doctors say she wont recover. I brought her home but Ive no time to care for her. Can you help? Ill pay a proper wage.

Lucy didnt hesitate. Better to be in a warm house, even if it meant bedpans, than freezing in the market for ten hours a day dealing with fussy folks!

Edward even suggested she move in, so, no rent to pay.

Three bedrooms, all to myself! Lucy told Sophie delightedly. No kids in the house, either.

Margarets mum, Patricia, was something else, still acting half her age at sixty-eight, having just remarried and off with her new husband. No one else to care for Margaret.

Is she really that ill? Sophie asked.

Flat on her back and barely a sound, poor love. Cant see her getting better.

And youre not happy about that, are you? Sophie looked at her closely.

Dont be daft, of course not! Lucy said, avoiding her gaze, but it does mean when Margarets gone, Edward will be free

Are you hearing yourself, Luce? You cant wish someone dead just for a flat!

Im not wishing anyone dead! But I wont miss an opportunity. Easy for you to judge from your cushy life!

They had a proper falling out, and didnt speak for months until Lucy confessed that she and Edward had become well, more than friends.

They couldnt live without each other now, she said, but of course he wasnt going to leave his wife he wasnt that type so things carried on discreetly.

So, youre sneaking around with him while his wifes fading away next door? said Sophie, unimpressed. Do you even see how grim that sounds? Makes you wonder if hes actually loaded, or just tightfisted

Cant expect you to say anything nice! Lucy sulked.

Again, they stopped talking, although Lucy didnt feel guilty (well, not much at least).

Let them talk about right and wrong nobody understands what its really like, she thought. Never mind, shed manage without Sophie.

Lucy threw herself into nursing Margaret, dead set on doing things properly. Once she and Edward became an item, she took over everything groceries, laundry, cleaning, the works.

A man needs more than just a warm bed, she figured. He needs good meals, crisp shirts, spotless floors, all the lot.

Lucy thought Edward seemed happy, and she was actually enjoying life too.

She hardly noticed hed stopped paying her for caring for his wife. Why would she care about money when they were practically a couple already?

Edward handed her money for the shopping and bits, and she handled the household kitty, although just about scraped by each time.

He was head of a department should have paid decently but Lucy always thought theyd sort it once they were married.

Their passion faded, Edward spent less time at home, but Lucy put it down to the stress of his ill wife.

Why he was tired, considering he barely saw his ailing wife once a day, she couldnt say, but she did feel sorry for him.

Still, when Margaret passed away, Lucy cried. It was only expected, but she actually shed tears shed devoted a good eighteen months of her life to that poor woman. It wasnt nothing.

She handled the funeral too Edward was too distraught. Hed given her just enough to cover the basics, but she made sure it all went smoothly. No one could fault her on anything.

Even the neighbours, who always looked at her disapprovingly because of her affair with Edward, nodded approvingly at the funeral. His mother-in-law was pleased as well.

Never in her wildest dreams did Lucy expect what came next.

You understand theres no reason for you to stay now? Ill give you a week to pack up and leave, Edward said coldly, on the tenth day after the funeral.

Sorry, what? Lucy thought she must have misheard. Leave? Why? Where am I supposed to go?

Oh lets drop the theatrics, please? he said, irritated. Theres no one for you to care for now. Where you live isnt my problem.

Eddie, come on! We were meant to get married, remember?

That was all in your head. I never promised any such thing.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, Lucy tried again to talk to Edward, but he just repeated himself word for word and told her to start packing.

My fiancée wants to redecorate before the wedding, Edward finally let slip.

Fiancée? Who?!

None of your business.

Really? Fine. Ill go, but youre paying what you owe. Yes, you heard me! Dont look at me like that!

You promised £1,000 a month, and you only paid me twice. So you owe me £16,000.

You can add up, cant you? he sneered. Dont get ahead of yourself

Oh, and then theres housework call it an even £20,000 and we can part ways.

Or what? Youll sue me? You dont even have a contract.

Ill tell Patricia remember, she bought you this flat.

Give me a reason to talk, and youll find yourself out of a job as well. You know better than anyone what your mother-in-law is like.

Edward looked shaken for a moment, but gathered himself.

Whos going to believe you? Stop threatening me. In fact, I want you gone now.

Three days, darling. If I dont get what Im owed, youll regret it, Lucy packed her bags and checked into a cheap B&B. Shed managed to squirrel away a bit of cash from the housekeeping.

On the fourth day, having received no response, Lucy went round to the flat. Luckily, Patricia was there too.

The second Edward saw her, Lucy knew he wouldnt pay up, so she let it all out in front of him and his mother-in-law.

Shes making it all up! Shes lost it! Dont believe a word! Edward barked.

I heard rumours at the funeral, didnt believe them, Patricias glare could freeze water. Now I get it. And so should you, son. Do I need to remind you I own this flat?

Edward went completely still.

So, I want you gone within a week. No, three days.

Patricia started to leave, then stopped by Lucy.

And you, darling, what are you standing here for? Expecting a medal? Out!

Lucy scuttled out quick as a flash. Well, that was it for the money. Back to the market for her at least there was always work to be hadOutside on the chilly street, Lucy stood blinking back tears, her suitcase in one hand, her coat flapping in a sour wind. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled, as if to mark the end of some era. Shed lost everythingher chance at a new life, her dignity, even the old friend who once cheered her on.

But as she walked away, the shock and humiliation gradually gave way to something new. Maybe it was relief. No more secrets and half-truths, no more depending on someone elses grudging charity. For the first time, Lucy realized she didnt need to chase after men or easy shortcuts. Shed survived worsea useless husband, her mothers scorn, a future that always seemed out of reach. And through it all, thered always been one person patching her up: herself.

She checked her phone, thumb hovering over Sophies number. So much unspokenhurt feelings, loneliness, all their missed jokes and cups of tea. She nearly put the phone away. But then, just as the bus rumbled into view, Lucy dialed after all. The line was silent for a moment, and then came Sophies familiar voiceguarded at first, then softer as Lucy stumbled through the apology.

Come over, Sophie finally said. Lets have a cuppa. I made cake.

Lucy smiled, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she climbed aboard the bus, suitcase bumping behind. The city lights danced outside the window. Maybe it wasnt the fresh start she imaginedbut it was a chance. And this time, Lucy thought, shed build something real. Brick by brick, no shortcuts. Maybe even happiness.

As the bus pulled away, Lucy allowed herself the smallest laugha sound halfway to hopecarried off into the gathering dusk.