“Don’t worry, Dave! At least you had a brilliant New Year’s!”
Here he was, back in his hometown. Dave stepped off the train platform, crossed the station square, and headed straight for the bus stop. He hadnt told his wife he was coming home today.
His mood was far from cheerfulhe was bracing himself for another unpleasant conversation with Emily. Shed probably scold him again, complain, call him a selfish, indifferent idiot.
Indifferent? Hardly. Hed actually tried to wish her a Happy New Year, but shed turned her phone off. Just to spite him!
For three days, hed called and calledno answer. Fine then. If she wanted to play that game, hed give her the silent treatment too.
And, by the way, she hadnt even bothered to wish his parents or sister a happy holiday, let alone him. Hed bring that up the second he walked through the door.
She wasnt exactly faultless herself. If she wanted to point fingers, shed have to answer for her own mistakes. Best defence is a good offence, right?
Feeling fired up, Dave marched into his building with all the confidence of a man ready for battle.
The flat was silent when he entered.
“Hello? Anyone home? Em, Im back!” he called loudly. No response.
He checked the kitchenempty. The first bedroomnothing. The secondjust as deserted. But something else caught his eye immediately: the crib by the wall was gone. So was the dresser with the changing table on top, and the pram Emilys parents had bought them.
Dave rushed to the wardrobeher side was completely empty.
“Has she lost her mind? Shes left me?” he thought.
He rang his mother-in-law. No answer. Next, he tried calling KatieEmilys best friend. Still nothing. Finally, he got hold of Michael, Katies husband.
“Mike, mate! Can you put Katie on? I cant get through to her,” he asked.
“Katies at her parents place in the village with the kidswe spent New Years there. Signals always patchy,” Michael replied.
“I got back last nighthad to be at work today. Theyre still relaxing,” he added. “Why dyou need Katie?”
“I was hoping she might know where Emily is. I just got back from my parents, and shes not here. All the baby stuffs gone too,” Dave said.
“Hold on, your wife was due any day now, wasnt she? You went off for the holidays and left her alone?” Michael sounded baffled.
“She didnt want to come. The due date was the tenth or eleventhwe had time.”
“Congratulations, mate, youre an absolute tool,” Michael chuckled.
“What?” Dave frowned.
“Because youre probably single now. Idiot. Ring the hospitalshes probably there,” Michael advised.
Ten days earlier.
“I dont get it, Dave,” his mother had said over the phone. “Why should you sit at home over the holidays? If Emily doesnt want to come, come alone. Shes not due for nearly two weeksyoull be back in time.”
“Plus, almost everyones comingAunt Vera and Uncle Steve, Natasha and Victor, Olivia and Paul. Me and your dad, and Vicky with Glen.”
“Vicky booked us a countryside hotelright in the woods. Four nights, from the thirtieth to the second. Theres a banquet on New Years Eve with live entertainment. Ive paid for youyou can sort me later. Stay till Epiphany, then head back on the eighth. Youll make it before the baby comes.”
Emily hadnt wanted to go.
“Dave, I could go into labour any day. Imagine how itd lookeveryone celebrating, and suddenly Im in labour. And the hotels in the middle of nowherewould an ambulance even get there in time?”
“No, Im not going anywhere.”
“Your mums rightwomen these days treat pregnancy like an illness and childbirth like some heroic act. She had three of you and barely took maternity leaveshe managed just fine.”
Of course, Dave knew Emily had a point. But the thought of a quiet New Years at homejust the two of them, a modest meal (Emily had already said she wasnt cooking anything fancy)made him miserable.
Meanwhile, his whole family would be dancing, laughing, and ringing in the new year with music and fireworks.
So he went alone.
The countryside hotel was brilliant. Around half past midnight, after the countdown, Dave stepped into the lobby to call Emily. She didnt pick up.
“Fine, sulk then. You couldve been here having fun with everyoneyour own fault,” he thought.
The next morning, his mother made her displeasure clear.
“Your Emily couldnt even be bothered to call and wish us a happy New Year. See? Shes throwing a tantrum. Youve spoiled her rotten, son.”
“She doesnt understand what family means. Thats why were all here together, and shes stuck at home alone. Let her stew.”
But Emily hadnt spared them a thought that New Years Eve. If anything, shed been thinking of Davecertainly not her in-laws and their endless relatives.
When her parents found out shed be alone for the holidays, they invited her over. They werent planning anything bigher brother worked shifts in London and didnt have time off, so it was just the three of them.
At nine oclock on New Years Eve, as Emily and her mum were setting the table, her contractions started.
They called an ambulance. Her mum went with her; her dad followed in their car.
Emily spent New Years in the maternity ward, her parents waiting in the hospital lobby. By half past midnight, shed given birth to a son.
…Dave took his mates advice and rang the hospital.
“Wilson? Discharged yesterday,” the receptionist said.
“Already?” Dave couldnt believe it. “The babys here?”
“Yes. First of January, half past midnight.”
“Who picked her up?” Dave pressed.
“Sir, we dont log that information.”
Dave figured it had to be her parentsshe and the baby would be at theirs now.
He bought a bouquet of roses and headed straight there.
He knocked. Her father opened the door.
“Yes?”
“Hello, Im here to see Emily,” Dave said.
“Why?” her father asked.
“Im her husband,” Dave replied.
“Emily!” her dad called loudly. “Theres a bloke here says hes your husband. Want to talk to him?”
“No, tell him to leave,” Emilys voice came from inside.
Her father shrugged.
“She doesnt. Goodbye, lad.” The door shut.
Dave stood there a moment, then knocked again.
This time, his mother-in-law answeredtall, sturdy, loud. Honestly, she intimidated him a little.
“Did you not understand the first time?” she demanded.
“Let me in,” Dave said, mustering courage. “I have the right”
He didnt finish. She snatched the roses from his hands and smacked him across the face with them.
“Your rights are about to be explained by a solicitor! Dont call againmy grandsons sleeping,” she snapped, threw the roses at his feet, and slammed the door.
Dave trudged home, rubbing his faceroses were lovely, but the thorns stung.
Back at the flat, he rang his mother first.
“Would you believe it? They wouldnt even let me indidnt even let me see my son.”
“Dont fret, Dave. Shell get over herself and come crawling back. Wheres she going to go with a baby? Dont call her. Dont send money.”
“Let her parents feed her if theyre so clever. Give it a week or twoshell be back. Get some sleep nowyouve got work tomorrow.”
Dave did just that: ate a ready-meal from the shop and went to bed.
He slept soundly, unaware it was his last night in that flat.
When he got home from work the next day, all his belongingspacked in boxes and bin bagswere piled on the landing.
He knocked. His mother-in-law answeredshe owned the two-bed flat theyd been living in.
“Well, dear son-in-law? Remember your hostel address, or shall I remind you? Take your rubbish. Anything left here, the cleaners binning tomorrow!”
So Dave moved back into the hostel.
They divorced through the courts. Hed considered renting a place, but after child support and spousal maintenance were deducted from his wages, there wasnt much left.
“Be thriftier! Youre saving for your own place now,” Michael advised. “Chin up, Dave! At least you had a cracking New Years!”
Emily
