Just before New Years Eve, my wife pulled the rug from underneath me with a surprise that just about broke me. Wed been together for twenty yearsa lifetime, it felt. I thought we were happy. Wed raised a lovely daughter whod already married and blessed us with a grandson. Wasnt that enough? All this time, I thought, Enjoy what youve got, lifes good.
But it turns out, the sun wasnt always shining in our corner. I worked hard for our family, spent years on the road as a lorry driver, sometimes not seeing home for months, because I wanted to make sure they never needed for anything. I thought I was doing it all for them.
Only, it turns out my wife was having an affair for ages behind my back, all the while filling my head with tales over the phone: I miss you, I cry myself to sleep, and so on. The whole thing played out like a bad joke: And then the husband comes home early from a work trip. I didnt make a scene. I just quietly packed up my things, grabbed my papers, got in the car, and left. Out in the countryside, I parked and just sat there, hands shaking, completely unable to make sense of how all this had happened.
Everything I did was for my family. Sent them off on holidays, bought my wife and daughter a car, even redid the flat top to bottom. Threw a huge wedding for my girl when the time came. Every time I came back from a job, Id bring home gifts, call them umpteen times a day, letting them know I missed them. And all the while, she was making a fool of me. And youre meant to trust women, are you?
I know we men arent perfect, eitherplenty on the road have their own flingsbut I kept myself to myself, always loved my wife, always cared about her feelings. Turns out it was all for nothing.
I started up the car, not a clue where to go. My thoughts were a knotted mess of anger and disappointment. So I did the only thing that came to mind: I headed for my hometown. Thats a fair old drive, about two hundred miles or so from the city, but I didnt care. At least it was away from my old house and, more importantly, my former wife.
My phone rang and rangtwenty missed calls. The wife, the daughter. I switched it off. I couldnt listen to them. Her betrayal felt like a bucket of ice-cold water straight over my head.
I kept seeing my whole life flash in front of meus walking out of the registry office, my daughter as a newborn, her first day at school, me coming home from work with flowers for my wife. All the good times, the light, the happiness. How had I not seen it coming? When did she stop loving me?
My late mother-in-law used to say, Moneys not happiness. Lose your husband and itll be too late. Families fall apart when the mans never home. She certainly saw it coming. Old ladies from the street would drop hints, but I never believed them. I never felt itnever noticed a thing. And now here I was, driving wherever the road took me.
I didnt even know if our old cottage in the village was still standing. Hadnt been there for ten years or more. Its possible the whole place had fallen down by now. But there I was, in winter, right before New Year. What a present my wife had given me.
I stopped at a little shop along the way, picking up food as if I were headed into the wilderness with no shops nearby. Oddly enough, I was right. I left the main road, heading through the fieldsplaces that used to be dotted with villages but now only a few lights glimmered here and there. Snow started falling, the wind picked up, but I knew these roads by heart. I had always loved that village.
Mum had never moved to the city with melived on her own till the end. I was her only child, born late in her life. She loved me, but didnt want to be a burden. I understood how hard it must have been to leave the only home shed ever known, but Id wanted a better life for her. She flat-out refused: Its easier for me here, everythings familiar. Id just fade away in the city. Best leave me be. She ended her days there, and when she passed, I nailed up the house and never went back.
The blizzard grew stronger. Just ten miles to go. The village lights got fewer and fewer. I turned down the familiar street, barely managing to get through the snow. Many windows were black, doors boarded up. Only one house by the lane had its lights on.
There was my old family home. The fence was leaning. Boards still covered the windows. Wading through the snow, I found the side gate open. Made my way to the front step. The key was in its old hiding spotout here, no one locked up except when leaving for good. The huge old padlock looked ridiculous on the flimsy door, easily lifted off its hinges if you tried.
It took some effort, but I unlocked the door, shining a torch as I stepped in. I found the light switch and the front room blazed to lifeeverything exactly as it had been the last time I left. The only thing missing was my mum.
First things firstI brought in firewood from the lean-to. There was always dry wood stacked for just such an occasion. Lit the old range; the logs flared up as if theyd waited years for me. Warmth spread through the house. I fetched water from the pump behind the shedstill working, despite the village being long forgotten. Put water on to boil, filled the kettle and an old iron pot.
Soon the place smelt clean and warm. I dusted, scoured the surfacesMum raised me not to be afraid of any chore, mens work or womens. In forty minutes the place looked like someone cared for it again. I laid out my shoppingsliced sausage and cheese, hacked off a wedge of bread, popped open a tin of stew, fried some eggs. The old mantel clock chimed eleven.
Well, soon itll be New Year. Time to start over, I suppose. How, Ive no idea. But as Mum used to say, things always look better in the morning.
I took out the bottle of whisky Id brought, but before I could pour, a sharp rapping startled me at the window.
So then, someone else still lives up here, I thought, and I went to the door. In stepped a woman, brushing snow from her shawl, eyes red, tearful, and anxious.
I dont even know your name, she said, Ive only been here three months. But my son is illreally ill. Theres no one to help and barely ten houses left here. I think it might be appendicitis. I had the same once. I saw your lights and came running.
Quick as a flash, I grabbed my coat and hat. No time to waste. Well have to take a shovel in case we need to dig ourselves out. I barely made it through.
The wind had dropped. I scooped up her feverish, crying little boy and we set off. Thankfully, we made it to the main road with little troublethough we did have to dig our way out in a few spots. After an hour and a half we reached the hospital in the next town; the doctor saw the boy straight away, and the woman had been right. He was rushed in for surgery. It was two in the morning.
So, its New Years Day already.
Im sorry for ruining your holiday.
Dont be daftwhat matters is hell be alright.
We waited in the corridor as the clock ticked. The womans name was Emily, it turned out. She couldnt take her eyes off the theatre door, tears streaming down her face. At last, the surgeon came out: Good that you came when you did. Any longer, and but hes all sorted now. Go home if you like.
Well stay, if thats alright. Its too far to get back tonight.
Of course. Happy New Year. Soon youll be able to see your son.
We sat on the bench till morning. Eventually, Emily was allowed into the ward, and the boyJamescame round. Emily stayed, and I travelled back to the village, rekindled the fire, ate, and got some shut-eye. After lunch, I went back to check on them. James, though weakened, managed a smile, upset that hed missed New Yearand Father Christmas.
He comes every year and leaves me a present under the tree, but I guess he couldnt make it this time. I know he comes in through the door, not the chimney. Im not a baby, I know how it works.
Hold on, I told him, I drove past your house last night and there were big tracks in the snow. It must have been Father Christmashe left them, and then the snow covered them. Perhaps he left a present for you, hidden away. Youll have to look when you get home.
Thatd be nice. I was good all year, wasnt I, Mum?
Emily nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
James, love, the doctor says I cant stay, I need to go home. Will you be alright with the nurses here? Lots of other kids in the ward.
Ill be brave, Mum. You go home and look for my present before the snow buries it!
Emily and I left together.
Thank you for keeping the magic alive. The truth is, I couldnt afford a present. I left town with James and next to nothing when my ex got violent againhe even hit James. We ran out into the night and came here, to my late aunts cottage that she left me. My ex doesnt know about it, or hed have made me sell it for booze. Were starting over.
As we left the hospital, I stopped at the shop. We have to get James his fire truckor he might stop believing in Father Christmas.
I bought the toy, a batch of sweets too, and we headed back.
Emily was about ten years younger than me, and though she refused the gifts at first, I insisted.
Please, let me do something nice this New Year, for once.
I spent the whole week in the village, clearing snow, tending fires, helping Emily with chores. James was in hospital alone for the first time, wanting visiting faces. When he was finally released, he asked immediately about his presentand yes, the snow had covered the tracks. Id hidden the toy in the shed; James found it himself, eyes wide.
He didnt forget me! shouted the boy, beaming. Hes real! The kid in hospital said its all stories. But Mum couldnt afford that toy, and its an expensive one. He came, I knew he would.
Giving giftstheres truly nothing better.
To celebrate James homecoming, Emily invited me for supper.
Thank you, Emily. I really needed some homeliness tonight.
Wheres your family? she asked quietly.
Its all gone now. Maybe we can talk about that another time.
Evening zipped by. James drifted off after playing with his new toy.
I should go, reallybut I dont want to. Still, I have to. Ive got a run tomorrow.
Can we wait for you? asked Emily. James will want to know if youll come back.
Tell James I said hello. I dont know yet if Ill return. Lifes a bit tangled right now. But I liked you both Goodnight.
I was gone for three weeks, driving all over, but the village, Emily, and James kept crossing my mind. When I finished my run, I briefly visited my daughter and brought some sweets for my grandson. I let my wife know Id filed for divorce. I didnt know what to do next, had a week off, and nowhere to spend it. After a night at my daughters, I drove out to the village again. Couldnt help myselfcouldnt get Emily out of my mind.
James was waiting by the gate as if hed known I was coming. He shook my hand, all grown up.
You took your time! Mums been waiting for you.
Did she say so?
No, but I can see it. Shes always at the window whenever a car goes past. Go in, you need to have a chat. Ill be outside.
I went inside. Emily greeted me, then turned back to the stove, stirring a pan.
I thought youd never come back. Whats there for you out here anyway, in the middle of nowhere?
Youre wrong. I had a lot to get my head around. Twenty years with someone is no joke but I havent forgotten you. I often thought of you. Will you have me?
She looked into my eyes for a long moment, then melted into my arms.
We started living together. That summer, I fixed up my mums old cottage, put plumbing in, mended the old bathhouse. We got a few chickens, a goat, planted a vegetable patch. Emily let out her aunts cottage to city folk for a summer retreat. Life found its feet again. James stuck to me all day, and, before long, started calling me Dad.
Life is a strange thing. You never know which way itll twist, what surprises it has in store. The old folks are rightliving life is a far sight trickier than crossing a field.
