A New Beginning
“Mother, have you completely lost your mind?” The words struck Lydia like a knife to the ribs. Painful. She said nothing, gripping the potato peeler tighter as she worked.
“Everyone’s pointing at us! Father—fine, he’s a man, but you? A woman! The heart of the home! Aren’t you ashamed?”
A tear rolled down Lydia’s cheek, then another. Soon they fell freely, yet her daughter didn’t relent.
Edward, her husband, sat slumped in his chair, lips pursed.
“Father’s health is in tatters—how could you?! He needs care!” Edward sniffled. “Is this how you repay him? He gave you his life, raised a child with you, and now—what? He falls ill, and you look elsewhere? No, my dear, that’s not how it’s done.”
“And how *is* it done?” Lydia asked softly.
“What?! Are you mocking me?! Dad, can you hear her? She’s mocking us!”
“Emily, you speak as if I’m your worst enemy, not your mother… Oh, how you fret for your father!”
“Mother! What nonsense is this?! That’s it—I’m calling the aunts. Let them talk sense into you! Disgraceful!”
“Imagine,” Emily scoffed, turning to her father, “I’m walking home from uni, and there they are—strolling arm in arm down the lane! He’s probably reciting poetry, isn’t he, Mother? Love verses, I suppose?”
“You’re cruel, Emily. Cruel and foolish. Too young to understand…”
“Not a shred of remorse! Right, I’m calling them!”
Lydia straightened silently, smoothing her dress, brushing off invisible dust. She stood.
“Very well, my dears. I’m leaving.”
“Where to, Lydia?”
“I’m leaving you, Edward.”
“What d’you mean, leaving?! Where?! What about me?!”
Her daughter was already shrieking into the phone.
“Em-i-ly!” Edward wailed as if at a funeral. “Emily!”
“What, Dad?! Your back again?! Where?!”
“Oh, oh… Em… she… your mother… she says she’s leaving…”
“Leaving?! Where?! Mother, what’s gotten into you in your old age?!”
Lydia smiled faintly, carefully packing her suitcase.
She’d nearly left once before, but Edward fell ill—his sciatica flared up. How he’d groaned, how he’d whined…
“Lyd… I think it’s a slipped disc…”
“The MRI showed nothing.”
“What do those doctors know?! They hide it on purpose!”
“Really? Why?”
“To bleed us dry! Just like old Thompson at work—ointments, pills, then—bam! A slipped disc! A rare one, no name for it…”
So she’d stayed. Couldn’t abandon “poor Ed.”
But now…
“How much longer will you live, Lyd?” her friend Rose had said. “You slave for them. What has Edward ever given you? Nothing!” She smacked the table. “Ran wild in his youth! Like a stray dog! That hairdresser—what was her name…”
“Millie.”
“Yes! Dragged her around like a prize heifer! And you—two jobs, extra shifts, while he loafed on the sofa!”
“Rose, you sound like you hate Edward…” Lydia ventured timidly.
“I’ll tell you why.”
Lydia braced herself.
“I’ve no reason to love your ‘darling.’ Remember his birthday at the cottage? I’d had too much, passed out… Woke to him clamping a hand over my mouth, the other under my blouse.”
The worst part? His mother lay on the next bed—watching. Later, she said, “Your fault, leading my Eddie on.” Threatened that if I told you, she’d say *I* chased *him*.
So.
Lydia was silent.
How had she never seen it?
She remembered other wives boasting of holidays, gifts… And her? A vacuum. A steamer—because Edward liked dumplings. Perfume—his mother’s, kept in the cabinet.
Rose was right. She’d slept through her life.
“Why *did* you marry him?”
“Felt sorry for him… Big glasses, helpless… His mother said, ‘He’s willing—take him, save face.'”
They’d cried, laughed, reminisced.
“If only I hadn’t let them push you away…”
“They convinced me married women don’t need friends.”
Lydia scanned the room.
Leaving was terrifying—but possible. A flat. Divorce. Splitting assets… All earned by her hands.
Would her daughter side with Edward? So be it.
She wasn’t leaving for another man. Peter was just a friend.
She craved quiet.
***
Oh, how the relatives scolded her!
“Go back to your husband! Beg forgiveness!” her mother screamed.
Her mother-in-law “fainted”—Lydia stepped over her and walked on.
Then…
Emily came to apologise.
They’re learning to rebuild.
And Edward? A month after the divorce, he was arm-in-arm with Millie. His back? Miraculously healed.
They say Millie doesn’t tolerate nonsense…
But Lydia doesn’t care.
She’s learning to live.
Emily booked her a salon day.
Peter invited her hiking—like in their youth.
It’s never too late to start anew.
Hard at first, then—smooth as butter.
