Emily lives a life that could be described as on autopilot. She walks the drab, weary streets of a Midlands town with her head down, not daring to stick her neck out because she has no real merits to count on. Her looks are average.
Her husband, James, constantly tells her that everything about her is ordinary. Emilys own beauty never catches her eye; she let it slip away long ago.
Once, Emily was among the first pretties at university slim, pleasantfaced, with a delicate frame, although a bit broadshouldered, a trait she inherited from her grandmother, Gran Margaret, who came from a rough rural background. Grans sturdy, roughhanded nature survived in Emilys genes, but science cant fight heredity.
Her fathers side of the family is cultured: engineers, literature scholars, university graduates. They shaped the girl, refined her features, gave her a finer nose, slightly sloped shoulders, and legs suited to city shoes rather than the sturdy boots of a farmhand.
Thus Emily grows up as a pretty, wellmannered, extremely shy and quiet woman and that works for her. Gran Margaret often opens her mouth and rattles off remarks that make ears curl, scolding everything around her. Emilys mother, Olivia, tried to act that way at first after marrying Thomas, Emilys father, but she soon bit her tongue. They live in a comfortable flat with a ficus in the hallway, in a block where the neighbours are professors and scientists; a single slip and youre shown the door.
Olivia quiets down, and Emily becomes even more silent.
Raise a proper young lady! Gran shrieks, pulling off her old, dulled boots, visiting the flat to see her granddaughter. You, dear, are withering away. Youll turn into nothing but barren fields and weeds! Where is our family now? Youve lost the Mikhailov Street, havent you? Soninlaw, you dont know?
Thomas shrugs and hides from Grans garlicscented kitchen, retreating to his study while Olivia serves tea to her mother and listens to stories about life in the countryside.
Gran never rushes. She first rattles off village news, tapping the tablecloth, then moves to the garden, the harvest, her own and the neighbours. Finally, after a sharp click of her teeth, she calls the granddaughter, who is hiding behind the kitchen doors glass panel.
Emily steps out, timid, glancing at her mother, who turns away. Thomas ignores his motherinlaw, even though her pickled cucumbers in vodka are legendary. He tells Emily to limit her time with Gran. Olivia also needs Emily to retreat to her own room, yet Olivia has helped Olivia with the newborn and once nursed threeyearold Emily when she fell ill with pneumonia and couldnt eat. Grans sister, Annabelle Vlasova, arrives in winter, scoops Emily up in a coat, and drives her back in the council leaders car.
Thomas later yells that he shouldnt have let them in, but Olivia calms him down. Outside the city, with good food, Emily recovers quickly, crawling back to her mothers arms, sighing with relief. Thomas merely waves a hand, opens his mouth, shuts it again, and glares at his motherinlaw.
Gran possesses a strange, firm power, striking the mind like a spotlight on things Olivia never dares to think about. Even Thomas fears her.
Why wont my soninlaw welcome me? I gave you good wedding gifts! I cant speak beautifully, its not my fault, its my curse! Gran declares loudly at her daughters house, handing her granddaughter a big chocolate bar.
Emily nods gratefully but places the chocolate on the table without eating it.
Go on, darling, have a bite! Take a bite, any bite! the guest urges, but Olivia stops her.
Thomas wont allow sweets before dinner. Its not proper here she whispers, and the comment makes Gran blush and Olivia feel embarrassed. Still, theres a man in the house, a head of the family, and Olivia never becomes the houses mistress; she just glances around, keeps quiet, and if guests come for her husband, she sets the table, smiles, and nods. She has nothing to say; shes always at home, dealing with domestic matters.
Emily takes her mothers example and never flaunts herself.
After a few months, Annabelle Vlasova cant stand staying at Thomass house any longer; everything irritates her. After a handful of arguments, she stops visiting. Sometimes, when Thomas is out, she calls, listens to the long ring, lowers her voice, and then sighs on hearing Emilys voice.
Love, how are you? You havent visited Gran whispers, wiping a tear with a handkerchief. Shes been crying a lot lately from nerves.
Were fine, Gran. Im at university, todays a holiday, Mums at the clinic, Dads at work, Emily replies, shoulders shrugged.
Life runs on a simple set of rules, traditions, and family expectations. Her father, Thomas, is the head, educated and smart. Her mother, Olivia, is simple, still cracking sunflower seeds and spitting them into a palm. Thomas finds that disgusting and tells her to behave, eventually sending her out onto the balcony.
Sit there if you cant understand how repulsive it is! he snaps, waving his hand at the balcony door.
Olivia sits there in her nightdress, sighing, spitting the shells into her palm. She thanks Thomas for rescuing her from the village, for giving her a home, for forgiving her many faults, and for raising her.
Olivia studied at a teacher training college; Thomas saw her at a community dance in the local park and fell in love, which eventually produced Emily. Their parents were surprised by the match, but later agreed that the union of a cultured city family and a bustling rural one was noble. Thomas lifts Olivia into the cultural light, and she settles in nicely.
Emily follows her mothers path, graduates from university, also becomes a teacher, but never works a day, just like her mother. She marries James, who is simpler than Thomas but still comes from an intellectual background, though the popular crowd now favors the flashy rockers of the new age.
James is a traditionalist, avoiding bright suits, reading heavy classics and philosophy. Thomas knows him from a project and approves of his marriage to Emily.
Emily, content, moves in with James, who lives with his parents in a threebedroom flat. Jamess older sister moved abroad years ago, perhaps to the United States or France.
Jamess parents are elderly, retired, and have handed the household reins to their daughterinlaw, who, after taking a few belongings, tells James to take his father and motherinlaw to the country house.
Now you can have your children, if you wish. Thats all! I dont want to stay; the kitchen cant handle two mistresses, she declares and leaves.
The flat is cramped with dark wooden paneling, piles of linens, towels, oddcoloured cloth scraps, bits of hardware, four tea sets, and endless mismatched crystal. The lamps are dim, the curtains permanently drawn so neighbours cant see inside, and James hides his money somewhere. Emily finds the place gloomy.
She wishes for new curtains, furniture, perhaps a fresh coat on the parquet, but it would be costly and James doesnt need it. He already lives well. He had a mother who fed him semolina for breakfast; now Emily replaces her. She loves him, coos, is young, eager to please, and never rebels.
On weekends, James gets up early, fries an egg in his underwear, refusing to spend money on anything new. Emily, startled, watches the clock, wondering whether James will go out or stay home all day. Most of the time they remain at home. James never goes to the theatre or cinema; they save every penny.
His extreme thriftiness becomes evident. While dating, Emily thought James was just a strong provider, fighting over every coin. She grew up believing a man decides everything, and a wife simply agrees. Her mother lives that way too.
James is intellectual but not aristocratic; his parents had modest jobs, yet they hoped their children would bring honour to the family name.
James, now a junior research associate nearing forty, has a dissertation in the works but never finds time to write. He plans to remodel the cottage, but his authority stays supreme.
Dont be so hard on yourself! announces Annabelle Vlasova, waving her hands at the latest news about Emilys life. Why does he need a man like that? There are plenty of decent husbands out there!
Emily made a good choice. She has a flat in central London and a respectable career, just like my Thomas. A woman should be wellsettled, even if it sounds lowly. Being stingy is a family trait. In our days we counted every penny, like you do.
Annabelle feels hurt. She never squandered money, but she never denied Olivia food or clothing. She would buy a good coat, no matter the cost, borrowing from neighbours if needed, then repaying every penny. She raised Olivia alone, without a husband.
When Olivia was about to apply to teacher college, Annabelle took her to a dressmaker, where they bought a fashionable dress that Olivia fell in love with. At the fitting, she met Thomas, and thats how Emily entered the picture. Annabelle stops being teased about money because shes not that.
Since that conversation, they no longer call or visit each other.
Emily and James live together. Jamess initial passion quickly fades; the constant affection becomes a chore, especially as hes about ten years older than Emily, too old for romantic whims.
Emily accepts it as normal. James says he loves her; thats enough. Their parents are pleased with Emilys choice. The restfluttering hearts, butterflies, intimacyare optional.
Without money, life is harder.
James soon realizes Emilys salary also goes into his pot. He presses for children, urging Emily to work more, increase her skills and therefore her pay. He takes a slice of her earnings, sometimes a little, just to keep his stash full.
Emily finds a teaching job, loves the children, but returns home exhausted, collapses onto the kitchen chair while James lounges in the bedroom reading and waiting for dinner.
She dreams of the evening ending quickly so she can lie down, while James sips a shot of whisky and philosophises. He knows everythinghow to run a school, how to heal, how to build. He also knows that Emily is nothing, just a placeholder. When you move to the RON office or whatever, you could even be a nanny! he jokes. We wont buy you a coat; youll manage in spring, maybe in autumn
Then, with a heavy breath, he leans close to Emilys neck, his breath oily.
Im pregnant. Dont, I feel sick! Emily finally bursts out. Dont touch me
James freezes, his lips forming a tube, genuinely shocked as if he never imagined children could appear, certainly not with Emily.
No we we werent, he mutters, frowning. He likes to calculate everything, to keep life on his spreadsheets. Now an unforeseen emergency appears. Its not the right time, Emily! No, we must stop! Its late, he sighs, looking at the wall clock. Make me some coffee, just a small cup, enough for a month. Go. Tomorrow after work well see a counsellor. Understand?
Emily looks at him, oily and fishsmelling, and vomits onto his lap.
James jumps up, shakes himself, curses, sends Emily to the kitchen, bangs in the bathroom with slipping soap, swears.
When he returns, Emily is gone. Everything is in its placetiny perfume bottles, a coat and boots bought last spring, a few crumpled papers. Only Emily is missing.
James stands, breathing heavily, then sits down to drink a dram of homemade spirit mixed with water, watches the weather forecast on TV, and the lies continue.
Emily gives birth to a thin boy, Kieran, as Gran Margaret predicts like a violinisttall and skinny. Olivia sits with her grandson while Emily works; Thomas, feeling sentimental, pulls little toys and toy soldiers from the childrens section.
Dad, hes only six months old! Emily giggles.
Its fine, well sell the toys later, youll thank me, Thomas replies, arranging the toys on the table and trying to coax Kieran.
Life in this household takes a different turn. Annabelle Vlasova appears now and then, full of energy, while Thomas drops by from work, Olivia suddenly starts sewing baby clothesher homeec training finally useful. James sometimes stomps around the hallway while Emily bundles Kieran in a blanket, then takes the stroller for a walk.
Just a little longer, check the hat, keep his ears warm! Gran scolds, and look after yourself too, dear.
James mutters about toughening up, thinking the baby is his too, yet he still lives with his parents, their advice and nagging wearing thin, especially with Annabelle in the mix.
Dont argue with me! Gran snaps, locking the door.
Why, Gran? Emily asks softly.
I just want everyone to be well. What will happen? Your mother praised James as a good man, but she doesnt know everything, Gran replies, eyes sweeping up and down at Emily.
Obviously you hide things, you keep secrets! Thats why you left me, Emily retorts.
Gran sighs, What should I have done? I tried to raise Olivia proud, give her worth, but I never got to watch you grow. I missed you.
Dont, Gran Emily whispers.
Why not? What are you looking for, Emily? Arent you tired of being stuck? Look, Sasha is walking by, Gran points at a tall, broadshouldered young man in a plain checked shirt. He isnt a professor, but hes better than your James. He sings well, has golden hands! Hes already married, though. You never learned to see a soul, did you? Jamess heart is tiny, like a beetle, thats why nothing works.
Gran concludes, You can stay with me, well sort out the child, and see what comes next. She gestures to the bed, already made.
Emily freezes, saying nothing about the child.
Oh dear, Im blind, arent I? I can see you right through, love. Your eyes tell a story, Gran shrugs. Grandchildren are a blessing. Well raise them! Our sins are heavy, but together we manage.
After dinner, Emily sits at the table, hands on the cloth, eyes on her thin wedding bandcheap as James once called it. She slides it off her swollen finger.
She closes her eyes and feels herself become a child again, sipping warm milk that a neighbour just brought, feeling the comfort inside.
A few weeks later, James returns home after a long day of answering phone calls. Its the day Emilys salary is due, and, of course, he hasnt received it.
He knocks on the garden gate, surveys the plot, and notes the greenhouse is in the wrong spot, the beds should run crosswise, and a lamp on the porch flickers dangerously.
Emily! Pack up, its time to go home! he shouts through the window.
From behind the glass, a rosycheeked Gran peeks out, eyeing the visitor coldly.
Are you dusty from your travels? she asks louder.
What? James replies.
Did the journey make you dusty? Gran repeats, volume up.
Call my wife, James snarls.
Shes sleeping, and will stay here for now. Youve fooled the girl, made her think youre the best. Bring her gifts, dear! Gran yells.
What gifts? Shes about to divorce? James retorts.
Things happen, dear, you know Gran sighs, disappearing behind a curtain, then reappears, tossing a ring onto the path. It rolls into the grass.
James drops to his knees, searches, pulls the grass aside, and finds it, glaring at the smiling Gran.
Got it? Fine, then. Goodbye, lad. Were having tea at noon, she says, slamming the window and pulling the curtains.
James stands, feeling the eyes of neighbours on his lawn, wanting to shout a vulgar curse like his drunken father used to, but he remembers his pending PhD dissertation and holds his tongue.
They part quietly. Emily packs her belongings; James even helps load them into a taxi, telling nosy neighbours the couple is taking a break for the childs sake.
Later, James returns to the empty flat, sits at the kitchen table, pours a shot of homemade spirit with water, and turns on the TV for the weather report, which, unsurprisingly, lies again.
Emily gives birth to Kieran on schedule, a skinny boy as Gran predicted. Olivia sits with her grandson while Thomas, now feeling sentimental, brings toy soldiers from the childrens department.
Dad, hes only six months old! Emily laughs.
Just check his hat, keep his ears warm, and look after yourself too, Gran advises, then heads to the kitchen for tea.
The three womenGran Margaret, Olivia, and Emilyshare a pot of tea, three generations wanting everything to be alright. As long as they are alive and willing, they will keep trying.
