Sweetheart
He called her Sweetheart the moment they met, plopping down in the velvet-covered, well-worn seat next to Emily, identical to the one she was sitting in.
He surveyed the auditorium for a moment, then glanced at his neighbour.
Bored, sweetheart? he sighed, attempting to cross his legsthough the cramped rows of the Royal Albert Hall concert hall left little space. His pointed brogue shoe bumped the seat in front, twisting his ankle awkwardly, and Matt grimaced.
Emily pretended not to notice, focusing intently on the stage, though there was nothing particularly interesting there: tables in a neat line, a podium, people scurrying about setting up equipmentjust like every other conference. And the stuffiness of too many people packed into one room.
Being closed in like this, shoulder to shoulder in a crowd with no escape, always made Emily uneasy.
Mmm Matt drawled, scratching his chin. This is all a load of old tosh. And you know, sweetheart, we wont hear anything new here, not a chance. Ive read all their papers, you seeits part of my job. Absolutely nothing useful.
Emily turned, giving the man next to her a strict, appraising look.
He was neat enough, suit and tie, polished shoes. Still, he felt oddly wronglike a schoolboy stuffed into his fathers suit. The kind to play practical jokes, a chatterbox with a roguish grin. Even his hair stuck up untidily in two cowlicks, soft spirals reminiscent of a childs curls.
Matthew, he offered, not even letting Emily reply as he thrust out a big, warm hand. How about we go have lunch? Youre so little and skinnyI simply must feed you. Yes, thats what well do. Lets get out of here!
The lights had already dimmed, and the directors and esteemed guests were taking the stage, drawing applause. But Matt, entirely unabashed, was towing his Sweetheart down the row, muttering apologies as he stepped on countless toes and shoved his tie back into his jacketwhich much preferred hanging out like an unruly schoolboy.
Excuse me! Let me go, do you hear? Emily protested, trying to pull free, but he held firm and marched her toward the exit.
They escaped into the lobby just as someone started rapping on the microphone, pleading for quiet.
Listen, I need to go backI have to take notes; its my assignment! Emily protested, clutching her notebook to her chest and dropping her pen as she bent to pick it up, only for Matt to get there first.
Forget all that scribbling, Sweetheart! Ill send you all the conference papers later. For now, you need a decent meal. But firstwater. Youre too pale. And your pulse is racing. See? Just as I thought. He pressed his fingers to her wrist and clicked his tongue. Air, food, and absolutely no more conferences!
Truth be told, Emily was feeling faint, her heart thumping so hard she could hear it in her temples.
No one had ever taken care of her like this. More often, she was the one looking after everyoneher mother, her husband, her daughter. It had always seemed normal. Hard work, sure, and sometimes she craved a bit of silliness, just to let herself go, sip some wine and giggle like women in romantic comediesbut such moments never came.
Matt, however, handed her one right on a plate.
She barely noticed when she found herself at a cosy little bistro across the street, a waiter carrying over tall glasses of the brightest, freshly squeezed juiceso vibrant it seemed like sunshine itself pressed into the glass.
There we aredrink up. And water, too. Now, what shall we order? Matt wondered aloud, scanning the menu.
She suspected he liked her, quite a lot. Emily was rather pretty, slender with a neat figure, though the hints of exhaustion and resignation had settled on her face. Turning forty, a family, no real love, everything grown wearywho could possibly bloom under such conditions?
Yet Matt seemed to fancy her just as she wasworn out, Sweetheart.
I dont need anything. Ill catch my breath and then go back in I feel better already, Emily murmured.
All right, have it your way, he nodded. But firstsea bass with veg, a nice salad, andSweetheart, what would you like to drink?
He looked up from the menu, cheeks fresh, hair tousled and scent of cologne and cigaretteshandsome, strong, and mischievous. Emily blushed and frowned.
She had gone mad! Who lets a perfect stranger whisk them away to lunch, call them Sweetheart, and straighten their fringe? Yet she softened, body and soul.
Where his hand had touched her wrist was a burning spot that sent tingles down her spine.
They shared a carafe of white wine, Matt regaling stories of working construction as a youth, then shipping off to Scotland for projects, until
Then my mate Simon and I started our own little businessnothing grand, just building garden summer houses. Somehow, it took off. Everyone wants warmth and comfort, a loo indoors instead of across a frozen garden. And we knew how to make it happen. Go on, eat up! He nodded encouragingly at her plate. And to you, Sweetheart! Honestly, when I first saw you I thoughtthis girl needs a proper meal! Shall we order more?
She shook her head. She felt herself meltingnot from the wine or food, but from the simple act of being looked afterbecause she was tired and small and someone finally noticed.
It hadnt been like that at home. Shed grown up with just her mum, who was always working. In the morning, her mum was gone before breakfast; Emily fended for herself. At night, her mother came in late, and Emily would warm her supper, then wash up as mum took a bath, and theyd both drift off, well past midnight.
At Christmas, her muma shop managerdidnt get in until nearly eleven, those last shopping hours raking in good money.
Mary Evans would come home drained and pale. Emily laid out her mums dress, helped her with her hair before they joined the guestsalways neighbours, friends, some distant relative, all crowding the table, tipsy and laughing. Emily kept a close eye to make sure her mum didnt fall asleep after the first glass of gin.
Mary refused champagnecalled it nonsense. A proper gin, she insisted, was the only festive drink! But even then, one glass and her battered body gave out. Emily nudged her every so often, reminding her where she was and why, and Mary would demand another round with grim humour that made her toasts sound raw.
This was no place for Emily to be a naive, protected daughterthat was never in the cards.
Emily married young. Andrew was nearly ten years her seniorthoughtful and educated, but not warm. Not one for words or affection; he simply slotted Emily into his life as another cog that fit the billa sensible wife and good housekeeper, nothing more.
And Emily seemed content with it. Passion and excitement were for the beginning; after a while, it cooled. What mattered was a home, a familyfree from her mothers exhaustion, her swollen legs, the dull view from their old flat. Now it was Andrews flat, a roomy kitchen, fresh wallpaper, big windows, a husband. People envied Emilya home of her own, and the mother-in-law left well out of the picture.
From her birth till the day she met Matt, Emily had always been Em, or Mrs Holmesnever Sweetheart.
Her husband, her mother, her friendsall called her by her given name.
Then suddenly, ‘Sweetheart.’ Wine, laughter, someone who cared what she wanted, what she dreamt.
Andrew never took time for that. Sure, they discussed bills and shopping, but only so he could announce his decisionany objections drowned in the noise from the ever-open window. Andrew liked lots of air; he forbade closing the windows, no matter the draft.
Matt, on the other hand, specifically asked for a draught-free seat in the restaurant. Attentive.
He asked about her life. Emily shrank under his gaze. Yes, she had a husband. And a daughter. Holly. Now at university, soon off to study abroadEmily had found her an amazing French tutor.
They hadnt exactly longed for Hollyher birth was planned, agreed upon as the next step in Andrews carefully constructed life. But it hadnt come easily, so it became a project.
When Emily finally became pregnant, Andrew kept his distancethe belly, the child within, were not things he engaged with. “When its born, Ill do my bit. Now, whens your next check? hed say. Ill drive you if you must.
He drove her, picked her up from the hospital, dutifully hosted the welcoming party, made sure Emily ate the right foods, and at night, it was he who paced the floors, rocked the cradle, took Holly to the clinic. When the health visitor came, it was Andrew who scrutinised her hands for cleanliness, warmed the stethoscope with his breath, made sure the baby was never startled.
Knackered? asked her friend Sarah, noticing Emilys pale face and dark circles. Kids are hard, arent they? Does Andrew help at all?
Emily would shrug. He helps, sort of. But never enough.
There was something pleasing in being a martyr. Always put-upon, forever knackeredpeople pitied her, sometimes slating Andrew for not taking care of his Emily.
But Matt, he pitied her in a very different wayhe wanted to spoil her, insistently, and Emily would flush shyly, resistingthough her heart wasnt really in it.
Oh come now, Sweetheart! Matt would scold, generous as always. Eat up! I wont let you go till you do!
Shed nibble her lip, gaze at her rescuer with lost eyes, and eat.
He walked her all the way to the tube station; Emily excused herself further company, citing errands.
That evening, scans of all the conference notes landed in her inbox.
To Sweetheart, from Matthew! read the note.
Emily slammed her laptop shutonly for Holly to catch a glimpse and snicker.
What a silly nickname!” Emily snapped, cheeks burning. “Official paperwork and they send this sort of nonsense!”
Holly seemed uninterested, pulled on her headphones, music drowning out everything
Em, Hol, Im home! Dinner! Andrew bellowed from the hallway.
Worn out from the overheated tube and crowded bus, Andrew stripped to his shorts, opened the balcony door, and breathed in.
He smelled faintly souryesterday’s sweat lingered.
Im not showering that often, Em! Leave offI itch all over after your blasted showers. Tomorrow, all right? Now come eat.
They ate in silence, each off in their thoughts. Emilyabout Matt, his freshness, his kindness, his easy charm…
Matt phoned her at work the very next day.
Hello, Sweetheart! How are you? Had something to eat yet? came his voice through the mobile, making Emily panic and check that her colleagues werent listening. The speaker seemed to blare.
No I havent had time. Too much work, she muttered. Sweetheart. She was Sweetheartweak and tender Goosebumps ran down her arms.
Drop everything, come down. Im in the café by your officenot the best, but we need to eat. Chop-chop, Im waiting!
Emily stammered, excused herself, slipped into the lift and for a moment couldnt recall which button to press. Her cheeks burnedthe whole office must know she was off to meet her lover.
Yes, shed started thinking of him as her lover. It was thrilling. Reckless.
Matt wore a t-shirt and jeans that day, still a bit ruffled, still fresh.
They drank coffee, Emily sharing stories from her childhood while Matt listened.
Sweetheart, do you know how beautiful you are? he interrupted suddenly. Come on, lets get you something new! A dressyes, I have some friends at those boutiques. They’ll set you up! I want to see you in something lovely.
And he did see her laternot immediately, but that evening, when he whisked her to Harvey Nichols, settled onto a sofa as the assistants fussed over flustered Sweetheart.
Oh, how he watched herhungry, with a look Andrew could never match.
Ive never seen such a thing! Emily whispered to Sarah later that night on the phone. Like in the movies, honestly. I never thought anyone would look at me like that. I felt like a real woman. Its awful to admit, but I liked it.
What about Andrew? Sarah asked, steady as ever after the sighs and confessions.
He knows nothing. And he shouldnt. I barely know whats happening myself! Dont you dare breathe a word. And keep the dress at your flathow would I explain something so expensive? Whats going to happen now?!
Sarah shrugged, pulling the bag closer to herself. Whatever will be, will be.
I dont know, Em Youre playing with fire. Andrew might be thick-skinned, but remember his kindnessthe way he drove through the snow to fetch fresh milk, how hard he works. Another man would be on the sofa with a can of lager, but yours is respectable, ambitious. He sorted the car, did the renovations, takes you to the seaside every year. Hes transparent, straightforward. Whos Matt? How does he afford all this?
I dont know, and I dont care! Andrew is just awful, Sarah. You never had to live with him. He makes me sick! You simply envy me!
Sarah shrugged again. Maybe she did envy Emily, but not for Mattfor her husband.
Emily began coming home late, cooking quick meals, picking at her food, stirring invisible sugar into her cold tea.
Mum, whats up? Ive asked five times for bread! Holly would complain, foraging in the bread bin herself. Out of breadagain! shed mutter.
Emily would nod, frown, and disappear to her roomto dream.
Andrew and Holly watched her with bewildered gazes.
Emily could dream for hours, feeling the sweat of anxiety on her palms.
Matt was tender; he knew how to kiss, teased her shyness, cared for her, always called her Sweetheart, brought presents she had to stash with Sarahand regularly slipped money onto her card. Sometimes he got bold, firing off texts past midnight. Emily would dash to the bathroom to read and delete, waiting breathlessly before finally turning off her phone, splashing her face with cold water and returning to bed.
Andrew would roll over, drape his heavy arm across her, hiccup, and mutter. Emily only said Mmm and lay still.
Oh, if only Andrew didnt exist If only shed known sooner how it felt to be a Sweetheart, to be cherished. So many years thrown away.
But now, there was Mattand he was her happiness.
They met at Matt’s flatspacious, sunlit, floor-to-ceiling windows, no curtains, and the bright lights of London spread outside. Champagne, the scent of expensive cologne, silky sheets The world exploded in a thousand sparks, like a glittering firework landing on that silk.
Back at home, things grew tense and suffocating. Emily felt sure they all knewHolly threw glances, Andrew watched her sharply.
She began inventing excuses to return late, sneaking in once everyone was asleepso she could sit alone in the kitchen, sip bitter instant coffee and dream.
Em! Where are you? Got that cabbage for slicing, remember we agreed? Andrew’s voice blared from her phone as Emily glanced, startled, at Matt swimming laps by the pool. The water was coldit was Hampstead Heath Lido, an engineering marvel.
Emily had never gone for a swim there before. Today, Matt had brought her, told her to change, and next thing she knew, they swam amidst clouds of rising steam. Few people, pure bliss. If you looked from the diving platform, you could see the lights of the skating rink in Regents Park. But none of that matteredshe only had eyes for Matt, her dashing escape.
Finally, shed found love. At last. Good heavens
Cabbage? she squeaked, wrapping herself in a towel. Just leave itIll be late tonight. Sarah and I went swimming. I was told to work on my back, so we got a membership. Well do cabbage tomorrow, sorry! Sarahs calling me, bye!
Emily quickly hung up, swallowing nervously. She had to warn Sarah to cover for her if Andrew rang.
She waited for Sarah to pick up, whispering feverishly about swimming lessons, but then stopped short.
Em, I actually popped by your place with some caraway seeds. You said you like them in your cabbage. I picked some up at the market, thought Id drop them in. Andrew’s boiled the kettle already, said Sarah calmly. Brought you seeds you know, for cabbage.
Emily bit her lip, peered around, searching for Matthe was already on the diving platform, flexing for a group of giggling girls.
All right, sweethearts! One, two, three! Matt shouted over the water, leaping forward perfectly, surfacing, waving to Emily. Come on, Em, join us! The nights young!
The girls sized Emily up. She suddenly felt dowdy, her tummy not as flat, her hips awkward. She paddled lamely, each movement ungraceful. Her face regained its pained look.
Matts new sweethearts had started a game of water polo, gliding around Matt, trying to get his attention.
He laughed, barely noticing when Emily slipped away. He understoodhome, family, dinner to make. Let her go!
Back home, the hallway was dark, the kitchen lit.
Andrew silently put a frying pan with eggs in front of her.
Probably peckish after your swim, eh? Eat. Want some sausage? He poured her a big mug of tea.
Emily shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, awkwardly poking her fork at the eggs.
Does he know? What happens now? Why is he so calm?
Em Andrew began slowly after a long silence. Sarah dropped off some thingsa bit keen, she is, wanted to take charge, but I sent her packing. Your kitchen, not hers. She left bagsright there, he pointed under the table. Said theyre yours. But are they? She mustve mixed them up, right?
Emily slowly lifted the cloth, stared at the bags, shrugged.
There you goload of nonsense then, isnt it? Andrew said almost cheerfully. Pour me some tea too, will you? Actually, lets have a tippleget us the brandy, love.”
Emily jumped up to fetch it, but froze.
Sweetheart, Andrews voice said suddenly. She turned, eyes wide. I mean, sweetheart, on the tablewipe it up. Holly keeps getting crumbs everywhere. Best take a cloth to it, he finished quietly, then glanced at her with a heavy look and turned away.
They drank the brandy in silence, neither daring to meet the others eyes.
Finally Andrew stood, leaving to bed.
Sarah, hes gone! Packed his things, left his keys. Hes just… gone, Sarah! Emily sobbed, staring at her reflection and noticing how her face had grown twisted and strangehow unlovely Sweetheart appeared now, just hours after splashing about with Matt. Her hair still reeked of chlorine; her back ached. Sarah! How could he? Do men really just leave like this? Abandon us?
Anger flared. Emily clenched her fist and thumped the table.
Like a real man, Em. Another wouldve hit you, spared no feelings. Andrew just walked away. Left his own flat. And you dare say anything? You know, I never understood why you two never found happiness. Moneys fine, Hollys grand, and Andrewwhatever elseisnt a drunk. Maybe silent, sure, but rather that than bringing mates home for drinks. You wanted a fairy tale, a bit of coddlingbut did you ever offer him a kind word, yourself? A compliment? Men are just big kids like thatpraise them and theyll do anything for you. But no, Em, I cant support you here. Sorry. Goodnight.
Emily laid her phone down and slumped over the table, weeping softly
Holly finished her term, went to stay at friends in the country. She wasnt speaking to her mother, leaving only a note asking not to be disturbed.
Matt reappeared a week later, lurking outside Emilys building, emerging from the shadows.
Hey, Sweetheart! he hissed through his turned-up collar, cheeks scarlet from the cold. Miss me?
Emily had tried calling him, desperate for comfort, but he never answered. And now, he arrived himself.
Matt she replied, numb. What are you doing here?
He glanced for his car. Ive come for payment, Sweetheart. Time to settle up. He put an arm around her stiffly.
What are you on about?! Emily pulled at her elbow, but his fingers gripped tight.
I fed you, didnt I? Gave you a lovely time, eh? he whispered sickeningly in her ear. Well, now I need something back, kitten. I need moneyI’ve got problems, and youve got that flat your mum left you; well get, what, half a million for it? Lets sell it. And the one youre in now, too. Lets talk, shall we?
Sweetheart whimpered, trembling, but she couldnt break away. She stumbled to the entrance, praying someone might cross her pathbut the street was empty.
Unlock the door, Sweetheart. Im freezing, Matt urged.
Emily broke down and sobbed, sinking to the ground. Suddenly Matt let go, staggered backward, collapsing. Standing over him was Andrew, wild-haired, fists clenched.
Get lost! Do you hear me? Out, before I break your bones! Andrew bellowed, lunging at Matt, but Emily grabbed her husbands arm, pulling him back.
Matt, realising who stood before him, sneered, then fell silent as Andrews fist found his cheek.
Go! Never let me see you near Emily again! shouted Andrew, snatched up his woolly hat, wiped his nose, and turned to Emily. Lets get home. Its freezing.
No one but the moon and the wind, howling at the slightly opened window, heard what those two spoke of over that long night. On the table, two untouched cups of tea. The old clock ticked away. And then darknessjust the husband and wife, deciding for some reason to carry on.
No one ever called Emily ‘Sweetheart’ again. And if they did, shed only shiver and turn away.
Matt never showed up again; Andrew proved too determined for him. Overhearing Emily talking about her inherited flat on the bus, how lost and lonely she felt, Matt had hoped to swoop in, resolve her property problem, and her loneliness too. If hed played it all a bit more smoothly, he might have had it all, for hed tamed her, fed and warmed her. But he rushedcircumstances pressing, and Simon not-so-subtly demanding repayment of debts.
So Matt moved out of his luxury flatgoodbye city lights, goodbye silk sheets. No matter. There are always other sweetheartslonely, neglected, yearning. Matt would find another to charmthen take his cut.
But life has its own way of teaching us: kindness can be real, but so can manipulation; and its the ones who stick by you at your lowest that matter mostnot those who simply call you by a sweeter name.
