Ah, so youre still with her! Emily shrieked, her voice echoing through the dim bedroom. George, do you have any conscience left?
It doesnt count! George muttered from beneath the tangled sheets. Its only a former wife, after all!
Actually, it does count, Emily replied, eyes flashing.
Darling, I love you, George crooned, but this its just habit.
A habit, is it? Emily whispered, halfdazed, her words fluttering like moths in a nightlit attic.
May I get dressed? the habit seemed to ask.
And you stole my favourite silk nightrobe! The missing pieces of the garment drifted toward Emily, one by one, like translucent leaves.
Its a lovely set, Helen cooed from the doorway. Ill buy one just like it!
Take it, Emily snarled, Ill never lay a finger on it again in this life.
Now, about getting dressed? Helen prompted, a mischievous grin curving her lips. Im not shy about George, but you you, my dear
Did you ever feel ashamed of a strangers? Emily snapped.
Lets keep the shouting down, Helen shook her head. Its hardly a strangers if we were married nearly twenty years.
A halfforgotten exspouse, a halfremembered partnerfamily in the marrow of his bones.
George tugged the thin underwear over his head, clambered out from under the blanket, and, gripping Emilys elbow, tried to usher her out of the room.
Come on, lets talk! he urged.
I wont move until she vacates my flat! Emily crossed her arms, chest rigid. Off you go, dear, while I still have a shred of respect for your respectable age!
Girl, dont be rude! Im only twelve years older than you! Helen protested, cheeks flushed.
Youll hear me call you grandma soon enough! Emily hissed. Scram! Or shall I fetch a walking stick? A cane? If you dawdle, the A&E will hand you crutches, and Ill pray its not a baby carriage!
George! Helen cried, Put your wife out of your mind!
Emily! George beamed, pulling the woman toward the door.
Better help this old lady vanish, then well talk! Emily growled. I promise!
The scene unfolded like a lowbrow comedy. Emily watched the frantic ballet of her husband and his former spouse. George strained his wiry shoulders to shield Helen from Emilys fierce gaze. Helen, tangled in the sheets, fumbled with the nightgowns buttons.
When Helen finally ceased to mesmerise Emily with her charms, Emily clenched her fists until they ached, trying not to accelerate the sudden guests exit. The front door slammed, and Emily barked, Clear up after her, and Ill be waiting in the kitchen!
Right, right! In a jiffy! George sputtered, sprinting back to the bedroom to strip.
Now, clean up! a voice called from the kitchen.
Of course, of course, George gasped, catching his breath.
He entered the kitchen to find Emily weeping by the window, tears glistening like morning dew.
Emily he murmured gently.
How could you? she sobbed. How could you be with her? I might have understood if it were someone else. It hurts, and its an insultespecially with her! After everything between you two, how could you forgive her?
I didnt plan this George said, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. She called, said her son was in trouble
Thats no excuse for dragging her into our home! Emily snapped. After what she did to you, I would never even meet her again!
It was about the son
You told me about her debts! She pinned them on you! How could you?
Emily had never been attracted to men far older than herself. Her peers barely sparked curiosity. A man five or six years her senior was just right. But George was fifteen years older, and his heart beat in a different rhythm.
In Emilys close circle, no one matched Georges age. Work introduced her to various men, but those encounters stayed strictly professional. This, however, gnawed at the core of her hearta pure, accidental collision of fate.
She was driving home after a long day at the office when the dashboard flickered, the steering wheel felt wooden, yet the car kept rolling on inertia alone. Panic brushed her for a heartbeat, then vanished; thankfully the street was quiet and hardly used.
She nudged the vehicle to the roadside, hit the handbrake, and stepped out. Any motorist knows the basics: oil, coolant, windscreen fluid. Anything beyond that belongs in a garage.
In a flash of anger, she threw open the bonnet, staring at the engine with bewildered eyes.
Whats wrong with you? she asked the silent machine. We were at the garage yesterday! Why didnt you tell me?
The car remained mute, but a passing man chuckled, stopped, and asked, Its not talking?
Its silent, for once! Emily replied automatically.
Let me have a look, the man offered, nudging her aside. She had little choice but to step back. She couldnt simply block him with a horn and hope the car would fix itself; she needed a miracle before the tow truck arrived.
Do you always go to the same garage? he inquired.
Sure, Emily said. Its three hundred metres from my houseconvenient! I drop it off in the morning, pick it up later.
The garage needs changing, the man smirked. They never tightened the battery terminal. It popped loose, the car died, and theyd have charged you a fortune! Do you have any tools?
Theres something in the boot, Emily answered vaguely.
When the terminal snapped back into place, the engine roared to life.
I dont know how to thank you, Emily said.
Ah, its nothing, the man waved. Small things.
Whats got you so down? Emily asked.
He sighed heavily. Im horseless now, he muttered.
Will you drive me home? Emily pleaded. I was terrified when the car stopped on the road. I could call a taxi, but Id rather not.
She offered him dinner; a cup of tea would have sufficed, but Emily had prepared a feast the night before, living alone.
Over the meal, Emily asked, Did your car break down?
Why would it? the man sighed again. It only runs when my exwife sits behind the wheel. She took my daughter when we split.
Word by word, Emily learned Georges sorrowful tale. Hed been married to Helen for almost twenty yearstwenty if you count the years before the wedding, too.
Theyd lived a typical British life: quiet evenings, occasional arguments, stripes of happiness and grief. Theyd had a son, raised him, dreamed of marriage, grandchildren. Summer holidays at the seaside, occasional weekends at the motherinlaws cottage. Both worked, both kept the house, both paid the bills.
Then Helen began to complain that something was missing. Who will understand me? shed sigh. Sometimes she wanted attention, sometimes she felt lost, sometimes her feelings faded.
I started bringing her flowers, buying gifts, George confessed. Id always done that. I dont know what changed.
First she kicked him off the sofa, then ignored him, then filed for divorce after finding a new man. George had to agree because shed found someone else.
Emily nodded knowingly; shed seen how such habits sprouted. She said nothing, letting George continue.
The assets had to be divided. Nearly twenty years of joint property! George lamented. And then
Their old threebedroom flat had once been a gift to Helen from her relatives, but it arrived in a state of disrepairconcrete walls, a kitchen that needed rebuilding from a box. While renovations went on, they lived in Georges premarriage flat.
The renovation was brief; George was a handyman of all trades.
Consider it all done by me! he boasted.
When they finally moved, the former flat was let out for a spare pound a weeknothing could hurt a little extra income.
George hoped the rental would bring something back. He and Helen had jointly decided to give their son a flat when things were still normal. Over the years, the rental property demanded more upkeep, so George took out a large mortgage to give his son a decent renovation. He bore that debt because, earlier, when they bought a car, Helen had taken the loan in her name.
Helen then started talking about the cottage againpaying off the car, buying the cottage. George arranged a holiday on his mortgage to clear the car loan faster. Only three payments remained when Helen filed for divorce.
In short, the court gave the car to Helen because the loan was in her name. My mortgage wasnt split because Id taken it myself for the flats renovation.
George had gifted his son a flat after securing the mortgage and completing the work. The courts decision left him without the car and a part of the flat, as proof fell short.
Who keeps receipts for twenty years? Emily mused. And Im left with a mortgage on my sons flat.
The son could let us back in so were not out on the street, Emily suggested.
Hah! Three times! Helen told my son not to let me in! And he never thought of giving the flat back! George retorted.
Now they were in a mess, with a twomillionpound mortgage and no home. He lived with friends, pondering bankruptcy or moving to a council flat. His monthly mortgage swallowed seventy percent of his salary. If it were a marriage, theyd have paid it together, but it wasnt
Emily, with the innate compassion of a British woman for the unfairly wronged, let George stay the night in the spare room. He made breakfast and even washed the dishes, cleaning the stovetop as well.
Two months later he became the husband of the flats owner.
Emily was stunned by how fascinating George wasconversation about news, literature, film, music. In bed he matched the vigor of younger men. She helped settle his looming mortgage in two months; she was an entrepreneur, gearing up for expansion when she met him, and decided to wait a bit.
Your husband got a hand up! she said.
Georges gratitude knew no bounds. Emily never regretted the uneven marriage; money would come. But the feeling of care, protection, tenderness, and lovethose were priceless.
She never imagined shed find foreign womens coats hanging in the hallway. When she finally saw photographs of Georges former wife online, tears of hurt welled up. Yet she held back her sobs when confronting the exspouse, and then
Emily, dont be so upset, George whispered. It was what it was. Twenty years togetherthere were good times too. It just slipped.
Youre a traitor! Emily shouted. You didnt just betray me; you betrayed yourself!
You tossed her into the gutter and then forgave her! You never thought of me! When we married you only had debt, nothing else. I gave you everythingbought the car, cleared your mortgage, almost bought a flat for you. And you repay me by with the woman who humiliated you!
I understand everything! But understand me too! George scratched his head. We were tired of the marriage. We needed a break.
Shed acted fairly with the assets, and she was grateful for the debt she cleared. Ill be grateful for the rest of my life, George said, his voice trembling.
Just dont say anything else Emily stared at him, astonished.
Emily, Im sorry, but Im going back to her. We lived together for so long, you cant compare, he murmured.
Emilys gaze fell to the linoleum, studying the pattern for a moment.
Keys to the flat, the car, and the credit card on the table! she yelled. And get out of my flat right now!
What are you talking about? George stammered.
Nothing! Emily snapped. If you came in like a fool, leave like a fool! Scram!
George huffed, but he left the marriage with a profithis debt cleared, thanks to Emily, for the sake of the family hed built with Helen. Now he could even think of buying a cottage
