Claire stood before the open fridge, her hand pressed against her forehead, frustration simmering in her eyes. Once again, her husband had devoured everything. She couldnt figure out where all the food was disappearing toone moment shed finished cooking, the next, the plates stood empty.
Every conversation with Tom seemed pointless, inevitably mutating into a row. She bristled even more at the fact that hed been home, unemployed, for two months while she worked herself ragged just to keep the family fed. Yet the groceries vanished at a ridiculous pace, leaving Claire to make do with stale bread and watery instant coffee. After a long day cleaning offices, she had no energy to prepare meals, and apparently, Tom had decided shed eat at work.
Tomorrow Im off to Mums. We need to help Michael, Tom shouted from the sitting room.
Claire barely reacted. She felt unwell, rising fever pulsing through her body, so she decided to stay home the next day. She popped a couple of paracetamols and dragged herself back to bed.
A tangle of clanging sounds woke hera cacophony from the kitchen, as someone hammered about with saucepan lids and kept swinging the fridge door open and shut. Then came the unmistakable humming of pop tunes, cheerful yet grating. Claire threw on her dressing gown and trudged down the hall. There, stood her sister-in-law, Emily, with whom shed barely exchanged a word in years.
Emily always seemed to think her brother ought to look after her, not just his own family. Claires household budget was battered whenever Tom got involvedEmily ransacked the cupboards, packing up her own plastic tubs.
Oh, youre up! said Claire, her voice tinged with frost.
Shouldnt you be at work? Emily looked caught out, clutching a pack of bacon.
Im ill. And I take it Tom knows youre here?
He gave me his set of keys himself, Emily snipped, stuffing cheese into her tote. It turns out its not Toms appetite, but your thieving fingers, Claire replied evenly.
Hes my brother. Ive every right to take something for my children.
Except your brother hasnt worked in months and hasnt bought any of whats in this fridge. I honestly dont appreciate having to feed two families while no one tells me a thing.
Well, its not like I can feed them on my own. Dyou want me to apologise for a bit of sausage? Emily scoffed, glaring.
Give me those keys back or Ill have to call the police. You seem to forget: Tom has no claim to this flat.
Youd really ring the police over a pack of cheap sausage? Unbelievable! Take your keys then, you penny-pincher. Ill let him know just what kind of wife hes got.
Thats fine, soon hell have another, Claire answered, voice breaking.
She wept then. Theyd made a fool out of her for so long. No one would believe her sister-in-law had been sneaking in and robbing the fridge clean, leaving only scrapsa half loaf and some dregs of weak tea. The most galling part was Tom knew full well, and let Emily raid the food, all the while blaming his ravenous hunger.
But Claire wasnt shocked; his family had always been the same. Their lot would turn up unannounced and help themselves to whatever caught their fancy. After agonising for hours, she rang Tom and told him she was filing for divorce.
Just let me come home and talk. Dont shut me out, Tom pleaded down the line.
Ive nothing left to say. I see it all for what it is now.
People like that never change, she thought bitterly. What a waste of her good years. At that moment, Tom became a strangerand she knew she should have drawn her boundaries long before.
