Bliss… murmured Lydia.
She adored those quiet mornings with her coffee before David even stirred, the pale English dawn just beginning to creep past the windows. In these still moments, life seemed perfectly in order. The jobsecure. Flatcosy. Husbandreliable. Really, what more did one need for happiness?
She never envied her friends, who moaned about husbands forever suspicious or outrageously jealous over milk gone sour or towels left on the floor. David never bothered with such nonsense. He didnt drama-check her mobile, nor did he ask for a step-by-step account of her day. He was simply there. And that was quite enough.
Lydia, you havent, by chance, seen my garage keys? David shuffled into the kitchen, hair a disaster from sleep.
On the shelf by the door, Lydia replied, pouring his coffee. Off to help the neighbour again?
Simon asked me to take a look at his car, David said. Something about a dodgy carburettor.
She nodded, suppressing a smile. It was old hat by now. David was forever helping someonemoving boxes for a colleague, fixing fences for friends, rescuing random neighbours from their DIY disasters. My gallant knight, Lydia sometimes thought with fond amusement. He simply could not ignore a damselor anyonedistressed.
It had been what won her over at their first date, when he stopped to help a strangeran elderly womanlug her shopping up the stairs. Any other bloke might have just hurried by. Not David.
A new neighbour had moved into the flat below about three months ago. At first, Lydia didnt give her much thought. People came and went in London flats all the time. But Olivia, as she soon learned was her name, was not the sort of woman you could easily ignore.
That infectious laugh echoing up the stairwell. The staccato click of high heels at all hours as if the corridors were her own personal runway. And the way she conducted her phone conversations as if she had a stage, not a hallway.
Can you believe it? Olivia trilled into her mobile, knowing full well the whole block could hear. He brought me groceriesunsolicited! My arms were overflowinghe just appeared, heroic as anything!
Lydia bumped into her at the letterboxes. Olivia practically radiated with the sort of inner glow only found in women with a brand new love interest.
Someone new then? Lydia asked, mostly from British politeness.
Not exactly new, Olivia smirked. But so attentive. Such menrare as hens teeth! Fixes everythingleaking taps, twitchy sockets, even helps with my bills!
Lucky you, Lydia said.
Too right! Shame hes married, but thats just a bit of paper, isnt it? What matters is, hes happy with me.
Lydia went up the stairs, unsettled. Not because of Olivias morals, but because something about the whole thing scratched at her, like an itchy jumper she couldnt take off.
The next weeks became a parade of these chance encounters. Olivia lingering by the lifts, eager to serve up another dollop of delighted boasting.
Hes so thoughtful! Always checking if Im alrightasks if I need anything
Last night, he brought me medicinescoured North London for an open chemist at midnight!
And he says: The main thing in life is to feel needed. Thats his missionthis compulsion to help.
That last one stopped Lydia in her tracks.
To feel neededthats his mission.
David had said those exact words. On their anniversary, no less, explaining yet another late arrival because hed been helping his mate Barrys mum with her allotment.
Coincidence, surely. There must be other men with a hero complex loose in the city, right? Still, the details kept mounting. The way David dropped off groceries unasked; his fiddling with anything broken, anytime, anywhere.
Lydia tried to dismiss it as paranoiahonestly, who suspects infidelity based on the neighbours natter? Ludicrous.
And yet David changed. Not at first, but slowly. Just nipping out for a sec now meant gone for an hour. His phone never left his side, even for a quick shower. He answered with short, sharp replies, tinged with testiness.
Where you off to?
Got some errands.
What sort?
Oh, Lydia, are you my parole officer now?
Yethe looked almost gleeful. Exuberant, even. As if somewhere, someone made him feel indispensable in a way she never seemed to manage.
One evening, he announced, Need to help a mate sort his paperwork.
At nine at night?
He works all daywhen else?
Lydia didnt argue. She watched from the window as David didnt appear outside at all.
She grabbed her coat and calmly, without haste, descended the stairs to the now-familiar door on the ground floor.
Her finger hovered over the bell. Lydia didnt rehearse any accusationsshe simply pressed and waited.
The door flew open as if shed been expected. Olivia, swathed in a tiny silken robe, sporting a wine glass, her smile evaporating the moment recognition struck.
And there, in the glow of the hallway, Lydia saw David. Shirtless. Hair damp from the shower. Looking every inch the master of someone elses flat.
Their eyes met. David flinched, mouth gaping mid-excuse. Olivia glanced between them and, rather than squirm, just shrugged with an air of Olympian indifference.
Lydia turned on her heel and began the climb back upstairs. Behind her, the telltale scramble of someone dressing in a panic, plus Davids frantic pleaLydia, wait, I can explain But Lydia didnt open the door for him that night.
The next morning, who should appear but BarbaraDavids mum. Not that Lydia was surprised. Of course David had already phoned to share an edited highlight reel.
Oh, Lydia, do grow up, Barbara tutted, settling herself in the kitchen like a judge about to pass sentence. Men are just big kids, they need to play the hero. That neighbour of yours, she just needed help. David can’t walk away from a damsel in distress.
You mean he couldnt keep out of her bedroom? Lydia replied dryly.
Barbara winced, as though Lydia had dropped a profanity into her tea.
No need to exaggerate. Davids a good lad, just soft-hearted. Thats hardly a crime, is it? So he got a bit carried away. My late Patrick did the sameIve always said, best to let these things slide. The main thing? Family. Youre a clever woman, Lydia. Dont ruin everything over a silly thing.
Lydia took in the woman before her and saw everything she never wanted to becomeaccommodating, endlessly tolerant, ready to ignore anything for the sake of family make-believe.
Thank you for coming, Barbara. But I need to be alone.
Barbara swept out, throwing over her shoulder some choice comments about the younger generations inability to forgive.
That evening David slinked in, eyeing her like a dog whod stolen the roast at Sunday lunch. He hovered, attempted to reach for her hand.
Lydia, its not what it looks like. She asked for help with her tap, one thing led to another, shes so forlorn and lonely
You werent wearing a shirt.
II spilled water on myself, fixing the tap! She loaned me a T-shirt, and then you
Lydia marvelled, for the first time truly noticing: David was a hopeless liar. Each word rang more false than the last, gestures giving away his panic.
Look, even iflets supposemaybe something happened. It meant nothing! I love you. Shes just a distraction. Pure idiocy. Male foolishness.
He dropped beside her, tried an awkward hug.
Lets just forget about it, alright? I wont do it again. I swear. Shes already driving me round the bend, always wanting something
That was when it hit Lydia: This wasnt remorse. This was terrorof losing his comfortable domestic stage; of being stuck with someone who might actually rely on him, all hours, not just on schedule.
Im filing for divorce, she said, as simply as shed mention shed unplugged the kettle.
What? Lydia, dont be absurd! Over one silly mistake?
She stood, headed for the bedroom, and began packing essentials into a small bag.
The divorce was finalised two months later. David moved in with Olivia, who welcomed him with open arms. Of course, those arms soon found plenty for him to dofix this, fetch that, pay those bills, sort out the endless problems.
Lydia heard of it now and then, through mutual acquaintances. She nodded, never smug. Everyone, after all, gets their just desserts.
She rented a snug little flat at the other end of town. Every morning she sipped her coffee in peaceno one badgered her for missing garage keys, no one nipped out just a mo and returned steeped in the scent of someone elses perfume. No one urged her to be patient, or easy, or docile.
Odd, really. Shed expected the pain, the pangs of loneliness, the heart-rending regret. Yet what arrived was entirely different: relief. As if shed finally been able to shed a heavy old overcoat she hadnt realised shed been dragging round for years.
For the first time, Lydia belonged to herself. And as it happened, this was infinitely better than any stability she had ever imagined.
