Second Place
In the dream, Caroline was standing in the hallway of their small Liverpool terrace, her hand curled tightly around the edge of the coat cupboard as her husband, Simon, shouldered his green wax jacket and jangled the house keys. She tried to call out, but her voice came out thinner than she meant, like smoke slipping from between the floorboards.
Simon, youre going again?
He didnt turn. Yes. Emily needs to be taken to hospital. Harrys got another fever, and shes barely upright herself.
Carolines heart folded in on itself. She took a tiny step forward, awkwardly balancing on someone elses carpet. Her words were meant to be smooth, calm, but cracked in the middle:
And what about our children? Yesterday you said youd take Finn to the park. You promised Alice a story before bed. Theyve been waiting for you all day! How can you keep letting them down?
Simon ran a distracted hand through his hair, ruffling it skyward. His stoic silence was not guilthe simply hated explaining himself, especially when he believed what he was doing was good and proper.
Caroline, you must see Emilys on her own. She needs help. Finn and Alice will livecant you take them out or do story time? No ones ill here, love.
His words floated in the still air, sharp pebbles in her throat. Her fists clenched as she stepped closer, the carpet squelching like moss.
Theyll forget what you look like soon! Her voice sliced through the space now, raw and hurting. Whens the last time you actually did something with them?
Simon just stared past her, searching the magnolia-tinted wall for answers it couldnt give. He responded in a sigh, barely a whisper.
I cant let her down. Shes desperate. Shes worse off than you or the kids.
Caroline laugheda thin, jagged sound, almost beautiful in how it cracked apart. Her eyes burned but she clenched her jaw.
Of course, she managed, bitter as old tea. We can always wait. Thats our family tradition, Simon.
He looked primed for wordslips taut, shoulders rigidbut instead hurled his hand in the air, a gesture that swept away the unsaid things he could have spoken. He stepped outside, and the door latched softly behind him, leaving only the faint aftertaste of aftershave and rain.
The house fell still. Caroline lowered herself onto the hallway pouffe, legs heavy as clay. She folded her arms around herself, shivering as though she might hold all the hurt in, so it wouldnt spill out, flooding Liverpool.
Simon had left again. A strangers child was somehow more important than their own family.
The days unspooled, blending togethera spinning reel of morning nursery runs, school drop-offs, washed uniforms, hoovered stairs, and the slow build of loneliness by evening. Simons visits grew rare. Sometimes shed almost hear the key scrape the lock as she drifted towards sleep, but by dawn thered be nothing except a hollow pillow and the tang of strong coffee in the kitchen, as though his presence was only ever a rumour.
Weeks turned heavy and full of shadows. Caroline rehearsed remindersthat this was temporary, it would pass, that these things happen in families. But each night, tucking herself alone under the quilt, she wondered: what if it isnt temporary? What if this is it, forever now?
One morning, watching soapy water slide from plates at the sink, she crumpled slightly inside. She couldnt keep quiet any longer. Her hands trembled as she fished her mobile from her pocket and dialed the number she had never dialed, unsure what conversation could possibly fill the space.
Hello. Emily? Its Caroline. Simons wife.
There was a pauseheartbeat-long but eternal. Caroline dug her fingers into the phone, nailbeds white.
Emilys voice was flat, clipped, with just a chisels edge of annoyance. Yes, I know. What do you want?
Caroline shut her eyes. The words sprang like thorns. Could you please stop using his kindness? He has a family. Kids. Hes needed here!
A silence stretched. Caroline saw Emily somewheremaybe in a warm sunlit sitting room, folding washing, staring calmly out the window, while Caroline vibrated with pain and confusion.
I appreciate your concern, Emily said coolly, voice sanded smooth. But he offers to help me. My sons very ill and its hard to do alone. If he wants to help, why shouldnt I accept it?
Caroline gripped the phone harder. Because its easy for you. You use him, because you know he cant say no.
Emily didnt rise to ither calmness made Caroline want to scream. I genuinely need help. And Simon Well, Simons a good man. Just what youd want in a husband.
Carolines breath shuddered, anger and grief rising in tandem. Are you happy breaking someone elses family?
A pause. When Emily spoke again, her voice had grown colder, stripped back to simple steel. Im not breaking anything. Simon makes his own choices. Thats his right, and your issue, not mine. Please dont phone me again.
The call severed, leaving the static hush of the line. Caroline set the phone down in the kitchen, the dream shifting. She pressed her forehead to the chilly window glass, glimpsing the world continuing outside: children tumbled past, buses hissed down the street, life unbothered. Something important, something central to her life, had just caved inside.
Enough. She wouldnt absorb the deficit any longer.
The next morning she began packing: not frantic, but thoughtful, as if preparing for a necessary voyage rather than a flight. T-shirts, baby grows, dog-eared storybooks, Alices favourite lamb, Finns toy bus. She zipped up her own sadness and numbed her eyes.
No more tears. That phase was over. She must be strong. For herself. For the children.
As the taxis headlights glimmered in the grey Liverpool gloom, Alice, whod watched the proceedings in silent confusion, finally piped up, Mum, are we going somewhere? Her voice was small, the question big.
Caroline crouched, cupping Alices soft hands. Yes, poppet. Were off to Nanas. Wont that be nice? You love Nana, dont you?
Alice nodded, not quite making sense of things.
Finn, older and sharper than his years, stood in the hall and eyed his mother. Dads not coming with us? he asked, voice almost a grown-ups.
Caroline felt the achesharp again. She ruffled his hair, tucked a stray curl behind his ear. I dont know, Finn. Just us, for now. We need a bit of time alone. Is that alright?
Finn nodded sternly, clutching his battered toy carhis chosen comfort.
Carolines eyes moved over the flat one last time. These walls had seen love and laughter, but now the air belonged to an absence. She ushered the children into the waiting taxi, eyes forward, away from the crumbling landmarks of before. Hopes shattered quietly behind them; ahead, there was at least the teasing shadow of possibility.
***
Nana met them at the door, arms thrown wide. She didnt fuss, didnt ask questionsjust hugged Alice, then Finn, and finally her daughter, holding on tightly as if she could anchor her. In those arms was a quiet promise of safety, of belonging, no matter what.
Something started unravelling in Caroline that night: a pressure finally easing, sorrow pushing itself out as tears into Nanas soft jumper. She wept in her mothers arms for the first time since she was a girl, and it washed some of the years and heartbreak away. Later, Nana put the kettle on and the sounds of boiling water and the scent of proper tea slowly stitched the dream back together.
Five days crawled by. Simon didnt call, didnt ask, didnt check on his own children. As if their absence was an air bubble, irrelevant.
On day six, her phone buzzed. It was Simonhis name bright on the screen. She hesitated, thumb trembling, but picked up.
Where are you? Simons voice was frayed, like the wind off the Mersey. For the first time, bewildered.
At Mums. We left, Caroline said evenly as rain.
Why? His confusion was a childsno worry, only surprise, as if he couldnt imagine what might have prompted them to go.
The words tumbled out, simple and hard-edged: Because you havent been with us for a long time.
He was quiet. She heard the effort of breath on the line.
Ill come get you.
Dont. Her voice was flat, final, carrying all the tired hope and finality at once. Its not what we want.
She ended the call, letting the pale rectangle of the phone fade to blackness. Nana was waiting, watching. She spoke softly.
Hell understand one day. But will it change anything?
Morning peeked through the curtains. Caroline sat at the kitchen table, turning cold tea with a spoon, watching the tea leaves spiral. There was a knock at the doorsharp, unexpected. She answered.
Simon stood outside. New lines had carved into his face. Pale, exhausted, eyes ringed with sleeplessness.
I I only just realised you werent there.
Caroline almost smiled, a bitter flicker. Its been a week, Simon. Incredible attention to detail. Did you honestly not notice wed gone?
He ran a hand through his hair, lost. I thought youd gone to a friends, or I dont know. He paused. Emily said you phoned her.
Caroline folded her arms, bracing herself.
What exactly did she say?
That youre jealous, he finally met her gaze, lost as a boy in a wood. And shes sorry everything turned out like this.
A sharp laugh barked out of Caroline. Sorry? Shes got you on a lead, and you let her.
Tiny footsteps pattered; Alice and Finn, home from their walk, burst in and froze when they saw him. Alice, soft-voiced and anxious, broke the silence.
Will you leave us again?
Finn, face stiff and determined, said quietly, You promise to see us. You always promise, but you never do.
Simon stared at them. Something flickered, then faded. His mouth opened and closed, but he said nothing. Hed leave again, of course. Emily needed him.
Caroline watched, saw Alices trembling lip, Finns balled fists. It was all there, every word that could matter written across their faces.
Simon reached out to hug Alice, but she stepped away, hiding behind her mother. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. He tried Finn, but the boy turned crisply to the window, unmoving.
I Ill change, I swear. Theres someone relying on me, but it wont last. Just a few months, half a year at most
Caroline shook her head, the movement slow, without anger, only fatigue.
No more chances. I cant live with someone who puts strangers first. I cant keep explaining your absence to our kids. I cant let them keep waiting at the window.
Simons voice broke as he rushed forward. But I love you all! I truly do!
Then why arent you with us? Why are we always second? Her stare was heavy, drained of everything but sadness.
He was silent. No defence, no explanation left.
Go, Caroline whispered, her voice barely stirring the air. And dont come back.
He glanced from the children to his wife, searching for a reprieve that wouldnt come. He backed through the door, and the latchs tiny click was the gentlest ending of a novel.
Alice sobbed, and Caroline scooped her up, soothing her hair as rain started up outside. Finn took Carolines hand, his grip icy but solidhis silence stronger than any speech.
Well make it, Caroline said, staring out the window, watching Simons shape dissolve into the drizzle.
***
The next days oozed along, thick as treacle. Mornings began with forcing herself out of bed, prepping uniforms, orchestrating breakfasts, hustling tiny feet to school, banishing grief with industry. Housework, chores, piles of laundry. She even found some translation work online, sitting up late with her laptop, fixing sentences, her mind a fluttering ghost.
Mum helped, wordless and kindlyminding the children, reading stories, dispensing silent support over mugs of tea.
After two weeks of routineschool run, lunch, tea, workCarolines phone rang again. Emily.
Caroline? Emilys voice was halting and softer now. Look, Simons no longer helping. He left yesterdaysaid he couldnt keep doing it. Said he felt like a traitor.
Caroline let it sink in, answering quietly, And?
Emily hesitated, then confessed, I kept him because it was easy for me. I was scared to be alone with a sick child. But it was wrong to keep him from you.
Thank you, muttered Caroline flatly, but it doesnt matter anymore.
It does, Emily insisted. He still loves you all.
Caroline exhaled. Hed have put us first, if he really did. He didnt even notice wed gone.
This time, Emilys silence stretched out, and when she spoke again it was just a whisper: Im sorry.
Now the nights were still and thick. The hurt continued, but with a peculiar lightness: a kind of strange peace that comes from knowing things are truly finished.
Simon didnt return until a month later. One chill evening, while Mum spooned soup and the kids jabbered about their day, Simon rang the bell. Rain flecked his jacket, his face tired and drawn as brambles.
May I come in? he murmured.
Caroline didnt move. Why?
He looked at his shoes. Told Emily not to rely on me. I want to come back. If youll have me.
Alice peeked around her skirt, then darted away without a word. Finn didnt raise his eyes, slowly shuffling his cutlery, pretending not to care.
They dont want to see you, Simon. And I she paused, gathering herself, I dont want to keep fearing youll vanish again. Im done looking at the door, wondering. We are not your family anymore.
He pleaded, hands out. Ill change. Ill work harder. If youll let me try
She just shook her head, certain now. Its too late, Simon. Youve erased yourself. They dont even draw you in pictures anymore.
He tried to protestbut Mum called in from the kitchen, Caroline, help with the dishes? Her tone was both support and reminder.
Carolines look said everything. Go, Simon. Please. Were done here.
He lingered, searching her face for hope, but all the hope had long packed its bags. The lock clicked, and that was that.
Finn hugged her tightly. Alice came forward, still quiet. Mum laid a reassuring hand on Carolines back.
Only the soft patter of rain remained, drumming a rhythm of a different future.
***
Half a year passed. Caroline rented a new, sunlit flat closer to her work in Manchester, giving up the long commutes. The home wasnt grand, but it was theirssimple and light and deeply safe.
Mum moved to a different cityhelping a sister in needbut she rang every night at seven for the news of Alice and Finn and to promise, Im just a train ride away.
Alice blossomed in the local drama troupe, filling the rooms with her exuberant recitals and anticipation for her next on-stage role. She organised little living room plays, her giggles spilling through the flat.
Finn threw himself into chess. He joined an online club, pored over matches, sometimes drew Caroline into a gameshe always lost, but they both loved it. His curiosity and determination found new expression.
There were squabbles, broken appliances, missed lines, lost tempers and the odd missed bus. It was ordinary, everyday lifeuntidy, but theirs.
One darkening autumn evening, Caroline trudged home, day heavy on her shoulders. By the blocks stoop, Simon was therethe ghost of the past with a bag of apples.
I just needed to know if youre all right, he mumbled.
Caroline stood, measured and whole. Were just fine.
His shoulders bent. Im glad. Truly.
I think its best you dont come again.
He nodded, painful acceptance in his eyes. Will you ever forgive me?
She considered the days and years, the lost and the gained, then answered quietly, I already have. But that doesnt mean I want what was.
He smiled a sad, thin smile, turned slowly and disappeared into the duskthe last chapter, finally read.
Inside, the flat was warm with the scent of baking bread. Alices bright stories wove with the soft clink of Finns chess pieces. Caroline shut the door behind her: not against Simon, but against sorrow and empty wishing.
Here, in this peaceful, humming flat, was just enough space for threeCaroline, Alice, and Finnand the blooming possibility of a new, braver life.
