He didnt sit well with me from the start.
Oh, did you just swing a hammer at him? Maybe you imagined it? Maybe it was an accident?
Mum, theres no maybe about it. I thought Nicholas would end up an orphan tomorrow Hes a head taller than me!
You know, men dont lift a hand without reason Youve always been a bit of a powderkeg. If somethings off, youll see it burn white.
Verity stared at her mothers words, expecting a shield, a protest, at least a hint of sympathy. Instead she felt as if the blame were already hers. And if the inevitable fallout ever arrived, would her mother still point the finger at her?
How can I not be a powderkeg when he calls everyone bunny and kitty? I havent heard those words from him in three years! Verity snapped.
Look, were already shouting at Mum, Linda replied with a thin edge of irritation. Listen, dear, a swing isnt a strike. He doesnt drink, doesnt go out late, he works. All thats left is his temperament. They all have a temperament, and you do too. Have you ever had a better man? Think carefully before you do anything rash
Oh, Mum, thats enough. Thanks for the pep talk, Verity said, hanging up.
Violence, betrayal and lies were things Verity could never stomach, especially in marriage. Nicholas had assembled every possible combination. She had already made up her mind and wasnt about to back down, but something else gnawed at her. Her mothers reaction to Veritys concerns was as casual as if she were complaining about a stale loaf. That didnt fit in Veritys head. She realised shed missed a lot before.
Linda had the uncanny habit of swapping shoes midleap, turning on her heel before she even landed. She whispered one thing to a persons face and something entirely different behind their back. Her smile was sweetly mischievous, her gaze often chilly and calculating.
Oh! What a lovely dress. It looks marvellous on you, she cooed when Veritys younger sister tried on a frock in a shop.
Then Linda stared at the price tag, eyebrows shooting up, and instantly changed tack.
Actually, with your legs they look a bit short in that, she declared in a decisive tone. No, lets look at something else.
In the end they bought a cheap synthetic fabric in a dull mauvebrown shade, the wrong size but heavily discounted, and Linda bragged to her friends about her sharp bargain.
Some mums even stitch bespoke gowns for the school leavers in Year4! she complained over the phone to an acquaintance. Its madness. Its a oneoff expense. I snagged mine on clearance, didnt feel sorry for it. Maybe shell wear it somewhere else later.
Veritys friends were similar. She turned up at a birthday with a slice of cake, and Lily, the good girl with wellbehaved parents, wanted to pop over. Linda switched shoes in an instant.
Why would you let her in? Remember: no friends in the house! she admonished Verity. Get used to that early. Friends are like that: first they act cute, then they gossip behind your back or whisk your husband away.
Nicholas suffered the same treatment. At first Linda disapproved of Veritys choice.
Whats he even good for? He appears, disappears A decent bloke wouldnt behave like that. I feel it in my heart that youre not his only one, Linda warned.
And Verity believed her. She had no real experience, and her mothers authoritative voice drowned whatever inner whisper she might have had.
Verity tried to break off with Nicholas. Instead, he pressed harder: a flower delivery here, sushi there, and Linda warmed up.
You mustnt let a man like that slip away! she said, attempting to spear a roll with a fork. Hes not perfect, but perfect men are only puppies. You dont want to end up alone with thirty cats, do you? Grab the bull by the horns and marry him.
And Verity, ever the dutiful daughter, listened. Mother never gave bad advice.
Yet warning bells rang even then, besides the sudden disappearances. Nicholass mood flipped like a weathervanes: tender one minute, sour and harsh the next. He grew jealous of Veritys friends, critiqued her wardrobe, and boasted he liked short skirts and high heels. Still, Verity heeded her mother, and six months later she bore the stamp of marriage.
The first months were honeydripping: romantic dinners, glossy selfies, daily surprises then the tide turned.
Nicholas stopped asking what Verity wanted. He audited her shopping lists, scolded every extra item, even a bottle of hair dye. He almost forbade her from wearing red lipstick, saying it made her look like a loose woman.
Both worked, but the home fell to Verity alone. Nicholas came home early, only to be met at the door with Whats for dinner? After the meal hed stand, turn, and retreat to his computer, leaving a mountain of dishes behind.
Nicholas, could you at least wash your plate? Verity asked one evening, summoning courage.
What, you dont enjoy looking after me?
Its pleasant, Im just exhausted.
Im exhausted too. I was at work today.
Verity was stunned. She, too, was weary from her own toil, yet Nicholas shrugged, claiming his mother managed everything while also raising sons.
What did you expect when you walked down the aisle? Linda asked when Verity complained. A woman must keep up on all fronts. Families rest on us.
Verity disagreed, but when everyone around you nods, you start to wonder whats wrong with you.
Time marched on. Verity gave birth, and everything worsened. To friends they were the perfect couple; in private they argued over crumbs. Nicholas refused to help with the baby, convinced a father need not be involved for the first year. He started sleeping in another room, citing the infants cries and his earlymorning commute. When Verity woke in the night, she sometimes saw him awake, phone in hand.
She tried to talk, but he shut the door on any conversation. Your feelings are your problem, he said. If somethings wrong with me, go elsewhere. He spoke calmly while Verity pleaded, explaining her concerns as a fight for their family, not an attack.
Youre just being demanding, Linda said when Verity vented again. What more do you want? He works, provides, you live in his flat
Verity tried to convince herself that, objectively, things were fine and that every couple fights.
Then she discovered a flurry of messages on Nicholass phone: no explicit photos, but the tone bunny, sunshine, kitten. A whole virtual zoo sending him good mornings and sweet wishes. The chats hinted at affairs, even if no concrete proof of a physical betrayal emerged. To Verity, that was enough.
She could no longer hold back. That very day she confronted Nicholas.
Its just cloudtalk, he tried to dismiss. Colleagues, acquaintances I just talk that way to keep things pleasant. It makes negotiations easier. Why are you making a fuss? You should trust me.
Trusting a husband with a completely digital harem was impossible.
The argument erupted into a fullblown fight; Nicholas pointed to the door, then, in a fleeting motion, raised his hand as if to strike. Verity couldnt accept it, yet she couldnt walk away either. She hoped for her mothers rescue, but
Its just typing, dear, just letters. A bloke needs attention; youre home with Vicky all day. Hes just filling the gap, Linda soothed in a matteroffact tone.
Linda never altered her view, even when Verity confessed how close shed come to disaster.
Verity had to untangle herself. When friends learned she was filing for divorce, they were stunned; shed never complained. Yet, surprisingly, the world proved kinder than shed imagined.
One friend handed over a spare key to her flat; shed just moved in with a boyfriend, so the place was empty. Another offered cash. A third helped with the move.
Weeks later Verity filed for divorce and fled. Her mothers reaction was immediate.
Well done! Hes a tyrant, Linda burst out. I didnt like him from the start. Remember I told you decent men dont act like that?
Verity blinked, bewildered. The same mother who had once urged her not to let go now cheered her escape.
Mum werent you the one who tried to stop the divorce?
I didnt know anyone could help you! Where would you have gone? she snapped, then paused. You have me, of course but Im old, cramped, and cant really support you. Being a single mum is a nightmare, I know that well.
Thats when Verity finally understood. Her mother switched shoes not out of care but convenience. She bought cheap clothes for her daughter, barred friends from visiting, urged her not to divorce so she wouldnt return to her own fathers house with a child in tow.
Two years passed. Verity still spoke to her mother, but no longer confided in her or asked for advice. She stopped visiting Lindas house, and Linda stopped letting her in. Work and money stayed hard, but her spirit felt lighter.
One day the phone rang.
Verity Im a mess, caught a nasty flu. No meds, no food. Id love a bowl of soup could you pop over for an hour?
Verity raised an eyebrow. An hour visit to a sick mother with a toddler? The thought tasted odd.
Tell me what you need, Ill order it.
Silence. The mother seemed to expect a different answer.
I dont need any deliveries, Verity replied, a flicker of irritation. I just wanted to see you. Maybe these are my last days.
Mum Id love to help, but you were right being a single mum is brutal. Supplying medicine and food is my duty, but being present needs trust. I dont trust you. Youre the champion of shoechanging.
Linda sighed, muttered, but could not sway her daughter.
From then on Verity chose her confidants with extreme caution, and she vowed never to be duped again, even if the temptation was great.
