So, imagine this: I get home a few days early, thinking it’ll be a lovely surprise for Tom. The original plan was for me to come back on Thursday, but I just couldn’t wait, so I jumped on a coach after spending some time with my parents in Liverpool. I was properly knackered honestly, I felt like I’d run a marathon dragging those shopping bags, filled to the brim with jams, smoked ham, and a ridiculous amount of apples my mum insisted I bring.
I rang Tom as soon as I stepped off the bus, right outside our block in Reading, barely able to hold onto those bags.
Hey love, are you at the stop? he asked, sounding way too startled. Right now? Why didnt you tell me? I thought you were coming Thursday!
I just wanted to do something nice, a little surprise, I said, frowning at how put out he sounded. Tom, can you come help? Im absolutely done in. Come out!
Hang on! he practically shouted. Dont come here. I mean, do come, but look, the place is completely empty. I finished off everything last night. You know what? Can you nip round to the Tesco on the corner and grab some beef? The good kind!
Mate, the bag was so heavy it pulled my shoulder right down and I let out a yelp. My lower back just shot pain right through me standard these last couple of months.
Trying not to drop everything onto the battered old pavement, I caught my breath and pressed my palm to the top of my bump. The little one started wriggling, clearly annoyed. Six months gone not exactly a joke, especially when youre lugging yourself and all your mums gifts home early to surprise your husband.
Honestly, I missed him so much, the last hour on that coach I was counting road signs just to keep going.
I wondered if Tom even had a clue. I was only ten minutes from the flat, after all.
The walk to our front door felt never-ending. Those overstuffed bags, bursting with home-cooked goodies, were just too much. I only made it about fifty yards before I thought, Thats it, I cant go any further. My back is about to snap.
I fished my phone out and dialled Tom.
Hi, Tommy, I whispered when he eventually picked up.
Jess? Are you alright? Whats happened? Panic straight away.
Nothings wrong, silly. Ive got here early! Im outside by the bus stop, all the way from Liverpool. Please, come help me out. These bags are ridiculous, mums packed enough to feed the whole street
There was an odd silence. I actually checked the screen, thinking the call had dropped.
Youre really at the stop? Right now? Why didnt you say? We agreed Thursday!
I wanted to surprise you, I said, starting to get annoyed myself. Arent you happy? Im exhausted, Tom, please just come and help me.
Wait! he almost squealed. Dont come up. I mean, come, but Jess, theres literally nothing to eat here. I finished it all yesterday. Listen, could you pop into the 24-hour round the corner? Pick up some proper beef. Oh, and fresh spuds if you can the ones weve got have had it.
Tom, are you hearing yourself? I barely believed it. Im pregnant, six months in, with two massive bags, standing on a chilly pavement! My back is killing me. How am I meant to go buy beef? Theres potatoes and eggs at home. Please, just come down. I want to eat and collapse.
No, no, Jess, you dont understand, he started rambling. I want it to be perfect. The shops right there! Grab some beef, get some fresh potatoes. Ask someone for help or carry them slowly if you must. Come on, itll be nice for us, I promise! Ill sort everything here.
I looked at my red-raw palms where the bag handles had cut in. I could feel this bitter, hot wave building in my chest.
Are you kidding, Tom? You seriously want your pregnant wife to go carry more shopping because you fancy doing a proper meal? My voice was shaking. You cant come down and meet me yourself?
Im in the thick of erm preparations! If I go now, itll all be ruined. Please, love, Ive been waiting for you. Just get 800 grams of beef, yeah? Small sack of spuds in the net bag. Im counting on you!
He hung up. I just stared at my phone, stunned. I couldnt wrap my head around it. I nearly cried, right there under the street lamp with my feet aching and my hands numb.
Instead of a cuddle and a warm bed, Im sent off on a midnight expedition to the meat aisle.
Maybe hes really working on something special? crossed my mind. I sighed, picked up the bags, and, basically limping, headed to the shop.
***
I was wheeling my trolley down the aisles, catching pitying glances from a bleary-eyed cashier. Beef is heavy as it is the bag of potatoes nearly pulled my arms clean out of their sockets. By the time I left the shop, my hands felt like theyd fused into permanent claws.
My phone rang again.
Did you get it? Tom chirped.
Yeah, got it, I gritted, shuffling towards our front steps. Im at the door. Open up.
Wait! Tom nearly shrieked. Dont come up yet! Sit on the bench outside. Ten minutes, tops!
Youre taking the mick! I snapped, not caring about the random neighbours strolling by. Tom, I swear, Ill have this baby out of rage right on this bench! I can hardly stand!
The surprise isnt ready! he insisted, stubborn as a mule. If you come in now itll be for nothing. Just get some air, five minutes. Promise! If I talk any longer, Ill miss it!
I flopped onto the old wooden bench outside our block. The bags crashed down beside me. I actually considered chucking the stupid bag of beef at our window.
Ten minutes crawled by. Then twenty. I just sat there, cradling my belly and feeling all sorts of things bubbling up inside.
Trying to picture what kind of surprise was worth this a house full of roses? Candles and croissants? A violinist in the corner?
None of it seemed worth making me sit in the cold after a sleepless night.
Thirty-five minutes later, at last, the building door squeaked open.
Tom came flying out, looking like a complete mess: shirt on inside out, sweat pouring off him, hair all over the place.
Oh, youre still here! he grinned, snatching the bags. Why are you so grumpy? Look at the weatheroh, right. Lets go!
Why are you soaked in cleaning products and look like youve been in a boxing match? I squinted at him as I slowly hauled myself up, using the railing for support.
Youll see! he beamed, hopping his way to the lift.
We went up. He swung the door wide open with a huge Tada!
The flat smelt overwhelmingly like bleach and one of those cheap sprays with sea breeze on the label. I wandered through the hallway, kitchen, and bathroom everything was somehow both cleaner and emptier than Id ever seen it.
All the usual junk was gone from the chairs. The rug had vacuum tracks. My figurines huddled awkwardly in the corner.
So? Look at this! Tom beamed, as if expecting an applause. Surprise!
I turned to him, quietly: Is this it?
What do you mean, is this it? he almost yelped. Jess, Ive been scrubbing for three hours! I mopped everywhere, even under the sofa! Washed every dish, loos sparkling. I wanted you to walk into a clean home, not have to lift a finger!
All I could feel was this lump rising in my throat.
So you made me haul myself and shopping around, instead of meeting me, just so you could mop the floor?
Well, yeah! he blurted, waving his hands. You always say I do nothing around the house. I wanted to show you I can! You came early, and I was sprinting to finish up. I had to keep you out so I could get it done. And instead of thanks, I get this face like Ive ruined your life!
Tom, are you stupid? My voice broke into a squeal. I dont care about your clean floors! My back is shattered, those bags were huge Im pregnant! I needed you to meet me, hold my hand, get me home, not rub the floor with a mop!
Tom turned beet red, flinging a cloth into the sink.
And here we go! he exploded. Cant ever please you. Im on my hands and knees from dawn cleaning for you, planning a surprise, and you walk in and start yelling! Have you seen how tidy this is? We didnt even have it this nice on our wedding day!
At what cost? I said, out of breath from anger. You left me sitting outside for half an hour, freezing with swollen feet! Had me shopping for beef and potatoes when I could barely walk! Thats not a surprise, thats just cruel.
Oh, cruel, is it? Tom started pacing around the kitchen, throwing his arms around. Sorry Im not perfect! Anyone else would be thrilled their husband cleaned up for once and wanted to cook! But you all you ever think about is yourself! Oh, my back, oh, my belly I havent slept either! Ive been up all night waiting, planning how to make you happy!
I covered my face with my hands.
You just dont get it, I sobbed. You traded my health for a sparkling bit of skirting.
Oh, this is ridiculous! he yelled, slamming a fist on the table. You spoiled the surprise by coming home early! If youd stuck to Thursday, youd have walked into this spotless flat and everything wouldve been perfect. But no, you had to show up in the middle of the night and make me the bad guy! Youre just ungrateful, Jess. Completely ungrateful!
He stormed off, door banging behind him.
The little one gave another kick. I sat down, staring at that bag of beef still on the counter. Honestly, I felt sick couldnt decide if it was morning sickness or pure tiredness.
Ten minutes passed. Tom stuck his head around the kitchen door.
So, shall I cook then? Or are you going to go hungry just to spite me?
Dont bother, Tom, I whispered, not even looking at him. Just leave me alone. I want to sleep.
Fine! Another slammed door.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, staring into the mirror pale, bags under my eyes, hair a disaster. I remembered my coach ride, dreaming of Tom hugging me, saying, Thank God youre home.
Yeah, right. Nice hug that was.
When I came out, round two started straight away. He shouted at me, and then lobbed a chunk of beef at my feet. That was it. I left just as I was, didnt even get changed. Headed straight back to my parents place.
***
Later, the whole family his parents, his sister, everyone kept calling and begging me not to file for divorce. Even Tom kept ringing, asking me to come home.
But Id already decided I dont need a husband who thinks mopping the floor matters more than his wifes health, or the wellbeing of our baby. Thats not the kind of man I want by my side. Divorce was the only choice.
