“Never mind, Clive! Dont be so glum! At least you had a cracking New Years Eve!”
Here he was, back in his hometown. Clive stepped off the platform, crossed the station square, and headed for the bus stop. He hadnt told his wife he was coming home today.
His mood was sourthere was an unpleasant conversation ahead with Hannah. His wife would scold him again, complain, accuse him of being a selfish brute.
Why selfish? Hed tried to call her on New Years Eve, but shed switched off her phone. Typical!
For three days, hed rung and rung, but she never picked up. Fine. If she wanted to be like that, hed stop trying.
And, honestly, she hadnt even bothered to wish his parents or sister a Happy New Year, let alone him. Hed march in and tell her exactly what he thought.
She wasnt blameless either. Plenty of her own mistakes to answer for. Best defense is a good offense, right?
Clive straightened up and strode into the building, fists clenched, ready for a row.
The flat greeted him with silence.
“Oi! Anyone home? Hannah, Im back!” he called out. No answer.
He checked the kitchenempty. The spare roomnothing. The nurserygone.
The crib by the wall had vanished. The dresser with the changing table, the pram his in-laws had boughtall disappeared.
Clive rushed to the wardrobeher side was bare.
“Has she lost the plot? Left me?”
He dialled his mother-in-law. No answer. Then he tried Kaitlyn, Hannahs best mate. Silence. Finally, he got through to Michael, Kaitlyns husband.
“Mike, mate! Put Kaitlyn on, cant get hold of her.”
“Shes at her parents in the villagespotty signal there. We saw the New Year in with them.”
“I got back yesterdayshift today. Theyre still celebrating. Why dyou need Kaitlyn?”
“Thought she might know where my Hannahs got to. Came home, flats empty. All the baby stuffs gone.”
“Blimey, mate. Wasnt your wife about to pop? You swanned off to your folks and left her alone over the holidays?”
“She didnt want to come! Said the due date was the tenthplenty of time.”
“Congratulations, youre a proper numpty,” Michael chuckled.
“Whys that?”
“Because youre probably single now, you plonker. Ring the hospitalbet shes there.”
Ten days earlier
“I dont get it, Clive,” his mother had said over the phone. “Why stay home? If Hannah wont come, you come alone. The babys not due for weeksyoull be back in time.”
“All the familys gatheringAunt Vera and Uncle Steve, Natalie and Vic, Olivia and Paul. And us, of course. Vicky booked a country hotelright in the woods. Four days, thirtieth to the second.”
“New Years Eve banquet, live music. Ive paid your shareyoull settle me later. Stay till Twelfth Night, then head back. Youll make it before the baby comes.”
Hannah refused to go.
“Clive, I could go into labour any minute. Imagineeveryone partying while Im mid-contraction. And that hotels miles from townwhat if the ambulance doesnt make it?”
“No, Im not going.”
“Your mums rightwomen these days treat pregnancy like an illness, childbirth like some heroic feat. She had three of you and never made a fuss.”
Clive saw her point. But the thought of a quiet New Years Evejust the two of them, a modest spread (Hannah had already said she wasnt cooking anything special)left him miserable.
Meanwhile, his whole family would be laughing, dancing, toasting under glittering lights.
So he went alone.
The country hotel was brilliant. Just past midnight, Clive slipped out to call Hannah. No answer.
“Fine. Stay sulky. Your own faultyou could be here now.”
The next morning, his mother griped about her daughter-in-law:
“Not even a call from Hannah. No Happy New Year for us. Youve spoiled that wife of yours, son.”
“She doesnt understand family. Let her sit alone and think about that.”
But Hannah hadnt spared them a thought. If anyone crossed her mind that night, it was Clivecertainly not his parents or their endless relatives.
Her own parents, hearing shed be alone, invited her over. No big feasther brother worked shifts in London and wouldnt get time off. Just the three of them.
At nine on New Years Eve, as Hannah and her mum laid the table, the pains started.
An ambulance was called. Her mother rode with her, her father followed in the car.
Hannah welcomed the New Year in a hospital bed. Her parents waited below. By half past midnight, she was a mother.
Clive took Michaels advice and rang the hospital.
“Harrison? Discharged yesterday,” the receptionist said.
“Already? The babys come?”
“Yes. First of January, at half past midnight.”
“Who collected her?”
“Sir, we dont log that.”
Only her parents couldve taken her. Shed be at theirs now.
Clive bought roses and set off.
He knocked. Her father answered.
“Yes?”
“Hello. Im here for Hannah,” Clive said.
“Why?”
“Im her husband.”
“Hannah!” her father bellowed. “Some bloke here says hes your husband. Want a word?”
“No, send him away,” came her voice from inside.
Her father shrugged. “Shes not interested. Goodbye.” The door shut.
Clive waited, then knocked again.
This time, his mother-in-law appearedtall, formidable, loud. Clive had always been a bit afraid of her.
“Didnt you get the message?”
“Let me in. Ive got rights”
She snatched the roses and thwacked him across the face with them.
“Your rights? A solicitor will explain. Dont ring againmy grandsons sleeping.” She flung the roses at his feet and slammed the door.
Clive went home, rubbing his faceroses had thorns.
He called his mother.
“They wouldnt even let me in. Didnt even see my son.”
“Dont fret, Clive. Shell come crawling back. With a baby, where else can she go? Dont call, dont send money.”
“Let her parents foot the bill. A week or two, shell be back. Sleep nowwork tomorrow.”
Clive did. He ate ready-meal lasagne and went to bed.
He slept soundly, unaware it was his last night in that flat.
Next evening, he returned to find his belongings boxed up on the landing.
His mother-in-lawwho owned the flatanswered his knock.
“Well, dear son-in-law? Remember your digs, or shall I remind you? Take your junk. Anything left goes in the bin tomorrow!”
Clive moved back into shared housing.
They divorced. He considered renting, but after child support and spousal maintenance deductions, his pay cheque barely covered beans on toast.
“Tighten your belt,” Michael advised. “Need a deposit for your own place. Never mind, Clive! Dont sulk! At least you had a cracking New Years Eve!”
Hannah lived with her parents for three years. They helped with little Alfie while renting out her flat.
When she returned to work, she and Alf moved back. After redecorating, no trace of Clive remained.
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