Stay at a friends while my aunt from York spends a month here, my husband says, shoving my suitcase toward the door.
Nina! Nina, youve parked in my spot again! I asked you yesterday not to! I shout.
Claudia, he retorts, what spot? The courtyard has no assigned bays I park wherever I like!
Impossible! I protest. Ive lived here thirty years; this space has always been mine!
Then what? It doesnt give you any right to own it!
I stand by the entrance with heavy grocery bags, listening to the two neighbours argue over parking. I want to slip past, but the women block the whole hallway, waving their arms and raising their voices.
Excuse me, may I get through? I ask quietly.
Reluctantly they part, still shooting angry glances at each other. I squeeze between them, shoulderbumping the door, my bags pulling at my arms until my fingers go numb. I should have used a trolley, but I always forget until Im at home.
I climb the stairs to the fourth floor the lift is out of order, as usual. I pause at my door, shift the bags to one hand, dig my keys out of my coat pocket, and open the door, freezing in the hallway.
My suitcase sits there: the same blue travel case I took on holiday, zip closed, handle raised as if ready to be carted away.
Victor? I call as I step inside. Are you home?
Yes, in the kitchen! my husband answers.
I drop the bags, shrug off my coat, and walk into the kitchen. Victor sits at the table with a coffee, scrolling on his phone.
Hey, he says without looking up.
Hey. Why is the suitcase in the hallway?
He finally looks up, sighs, and says, Remember my Aunt Zena from York?
I frown, recalling the elderly sister of my fatherinlaw Ive met only a few times at family gatherings.
Yeah, vaguely.
So, shes coming to London for a month. She needs an operation and then rehab. I invited her to stay with us.
I lower myself onto a chair.
You invited her to live here for a month?
Exactly. Whats the problem? Shes family.
We have a onebedroom flat. Where will she sleep?
Victor finishes his coffee, sets the cup down.
Thats the catch space is tight. I thought maybe you could stay with a friend for a while. How about Emmas place? She lives alone in a twobed flat, plenty of room. Aunt Zena would stay a month and then go home, and you could come back.
I stare at him, stunned.
What?
Just stay with Emma. She has space. Aunt Zena will be here for a month, then shell leave, and youll return.
You want me to move out of my own flat?
Not permanently, just temporarily. Aunt Zena needs home care after her operation, she cant stay in a hospital all the time.
Whos going to look after her?
Me, and shell do what she can.
My head spins. My husband is kicking me out for a distant relative.
This is my flat. I live here. Im not going anywhere.
Victor frowns.
Dont be stubborn, Al. Its only a month.
A month is a long time! Why should I leave? She could rent a place or stay in a hotel!
She cant afford a hotel, Al. Are you being cheap? Its family!
Im not cheap! I just dont get why I have to sacrifice my comfort.
Victor snaps up the keys from the table.
Ive already sorted everything. Aunt Zena arrives tonight. I packed the suitcase, put her things inside. Go to Emmas now. Ive already called her, shell take you in.
You called Emma without telling me?
Yes, to save time. No drama, just pack.
He leaves the kitchen. I stand, feeling a fire build inside me. I head to the hallway; Victor is already pulling on his coat.
Victor, wait. We need to talk.
Theres nothing to discuss. Its decided. Heres your suitcase and some cash for a taxi.
He thrusts a few tenpound notes into my hand. I stare at the money, the suitcase, my husband. Is this really happening? Am I really being forced out of my own home?
Im not going.
You will. Its only a month. Then youll be back.
What if I dont want to?
Victor sighs, rubbing his face.
Al, behave like a child. Aunt Zena is old and ill. She needs help, and youre being unreasonable!
Im not being unreasonable! Im defending my right to live in my flat!
Rights, rights always your rights! Think about family, think about helping relatives.
Tears start to blur my vision. I turn away so he cant see.
Fine. Ill go.
I grab the suitcase, open the door, and Victor walks me to the threshold.
Smart girl. Ill call when Aunt Zena leaves.
The door slams shut behind me. I stand on the landing with my suitcase, tears streaming down my cheeks, drops landing on the hallway floor.
I pull out my phone and dial Emma. She answers instantly.
Hey, Al! Victor called, said youre coming over. Im ready for you!
Emma, are you sure you dont mind?
Of course I dont mind! Come on, theres plenty of space!
I hail a black cab, hop in the back seat, give her address, and stare out the window, the city passing by in a blur of rainslick streets.
Emma opens her front door, pulls me into a hug.
Whats happened? Victor said youd be staying with me, but you look devastated!
He kicked me out of my flat so his aunt can stay here.
How? He just?
I tell her everything. She listens, shaking her head.
Victor is a nightmare! Throwing his wife out for an aunt? Are you sure its just the aunt?
I dont see any other reason.
Strange. Is everything okay between you two?
I think about the past months his late nights, his stare at the phone, the silence that has replaced our evenings together.
Something feels off. Hes become distant, irritated. We used to watch films, talk, now he eats dinner then disappears into his phone.
Emma frowns.
Maybe hes got someone else?
Someone? Like a lover?
Ive heard that before.
I shake my head.
No, Victors decent.
Decent men dont kick their wives out.
Her words gnaw at me all night. I lie on her sofa, turning over the days events.
In the morning I call Victor.
Victor, hows Aunt Zena?
Yes, shes here. All good. You?
Can I come by to pick up a few things?
Dont. Shes resting, I dont want to disturb her.
But Ill just be a minute
Al, I said no. Ill bring whatever you need later.
I tell Emma, He wont let me back.
Then go when hes not home, she suggests. You have the keys, right?
Yes.
Victor works during the day, so go in the afternoon.
I nod, heart pounding.
At lunch I drive back to the flat, climb the stairs, and slip the key into the lock. The hallway is silent. I peek into the bedroom the bed is made, a nightstand holds a bottle of pills, everything looks normal.
The kitchen table holds a note. I pick it up and read:
Victor, Ive gone to the hospital for tests. Ill be back this evening. Dont worry. Aunt Zena.
So the aunt really is staying. I breathe a sigh of relief. No lover, just a sick relative.
I turn to leave, but the landline on the kitchen counter rings. The caller ID shows Mom. My motherinlaw, Gail.
I answer.
Hello?
Victor? Gails voice asks.
No, this is Alice. Hello, Gail.
Alice, why are you at the flat? Victor said you left.
Im here to collect a few things.
Okay. Hows Aunt Zena? Settled in?
Shes at the hospital for tests.
What tests? Victor said the operation is tomorrow!
My stomach drops.
Tomorrow? But we were told shed stay a month
A month? Victor said a week max. Surgery, a couple of days in hospital, then back to York.
A week? You didnt tell me.
Im sorry, I need to go.
I hang up, heart racing. Victor told me a month, his mother says a week. Somethings wrong.
I walk to the bedroom, open the wardrobe my clothes are exactly where I left them. I open a drawer; everything is untouched. I sit on the bed, stare at the nightstand, and notice a small notebook. I flip it open. On the first page Victors crooked handwriting reads Plan.
Below are bullet points:
1. Convince Alice to leave.
2. Meet with estate agent.
3. Show flat to potential buyers.
4. Complete paperwork.
5. Get the money.
6. Move in with Sarah.
My mind reels. Sell the flat? Move in with Sarah? Who is Sarah?
I snap a photo of the page, pocket the notebook, and rush back to Emmas flat, shaking.
Emma, you were right. Hes got someone else.
I show her the picture. She reads, curses.
Bloody hell! He wants to sell the flat yours!
Its in his name.
What now?
I sit, holding my head.
I dont know. Hes lying, evicting me to sell the place and move in with Sarah.
Emma suggests calling Victor.
Ill call later. I need to think.
The rest of the day I wander, waiting for Victor to bring the items he promised. He never does, citing work. I stay silent.
The next morning I visit Gail at her house. She looks shocked as I walk in.
Alice, come in. Whats happened?
I heard you know Victor wants to sell the flat.
She blanches.
How do you know?
I saw his notes.
She sighs, sits down.
Yes, Victor told me. He wants to sell, buy something smaller, use the cash for a car.
Our flat is a onebedroom, not a big place!
He meant a studio. Cheaper, and the rest of the money for a car.
I think hes planning to move in with another woman.
Its possible.
I show her the notebook photo. Her face turns pale.
Hes not that kind of man.
Until he writes it down.
She promises to talk to him, but I tell her Ill handle it myself.
Back at Emmas, I call Victor.
Victor, we need to meet.
Cant now, busy.
Make time. Its important.
He finally shows up that evening. We meet in a café near Emmas flat, order coffee, and I place the photo on the table.
Where did you get this? he asks, voice flat.
It doesnt matter. Explain.
He stares at the notebook, then looks up.
I wanted to tell you, but I didnt know how.
What?
I met someone. Sarah. Weve been together for six months. I love her.
His words hit like a slap.
For how long?
Six months.
Im sorry, Alice. I didnt want to hurt you, but it happened.
And the flat?
Its in my name, so I can sell it. Ill give you money, you can rent somewhere, or move back with your parents.
You think thats fair?
Ill pay you, you can find a place.
I stand, shaking.
Victor, you can sell it. Move in with Sarah. But youve lost me, forever.
I walk out of the café without looking back.
Emma meets me outside, embraces me, strokes my back as I sob.
You did the right thing, Alice. You dont need a man like that.
But I have nowhere to go. Hell sell the flat, give me nothing.
My parents have a onebedroom; theres no space.
Then stay here. Live as long as you need.
I stay with Emma for a month. Victor sells the flat, moves in with Sarah. I file for divorce. In court the judge rules the flat belongs to Victor, so I get only a modest settlement.
I find a job, start saving for my own place. Emma helps, lends me clothes, gives me moral support. Six months later I rent a tiny room in a council house. It isnt luxurious, but its mine.
I rebuild my life: work, yoga classes, meet friends, let the pain ease, leaving only a faint ache.
One day Gail calls.
Hello, Alice. How are you?
Im fine, thank you.
Just wanted to say Victors split with Sarah. She left when the money ran out.
I see.
Hes now living in a cheap room, complaining about being alone. He asked about you. Maybe you could reconcile?
No, I dont want to go back to someone who betrayed me.
Hes remorseful, though.
Its his problem. Ive started a new life, and Im happy with it.
I hang up, look out at the grey city, at people hurrying along the street. Its not easy a modest flat, a modest salary, occasional loneliness but its honest, free of deception and betrayal. That matters more than any flat or any husband who never valued me.
