Arthur stood before the familiar door, unable to press the buzzer. A holdall weighed down his arm, his flat keys rattling uselessly in his jacket pocket. Three days prior, he’d stormed out after another row, slamming the door and shouting he’d never return. Tammy had thrown a slipper after him then, yelling for him to clear off. Just the usual marital spat, one of countless over thirty years.
This time felt different.
He pressed the bell. Footsteps approached inside, then Tammy’s voice: “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Tammy. Let me in.”
Silence. Long, uneasy silence. “Tammy, can you hear me?” he repeated.
“I hear you,” his wife answered coldly. “What do you want?”
“What d’you mean? I’ve come home.”
“This isn’t your home anymore.”
Arthur was stunned. In thirty years, Tammy had never gone this far, even in their worst fights. “Tammy, stop being daft. Open up, we can talk properly.” “No. I won’t open it. And I won’t talk.”
“What’s got into you? What’s all the fuss about?”
“You know what.”
He did know. Three days ago, Tammy found a phone number in his jacket pocket, written in a woman’s hand. Simple enough – Margaret from accounts gave it for a meeting. Explaining that to a furious wife proved impossible. “Tammy, I told you! It’s Margaret from the office. Work.” “Work, my foot,” her voice came through the door. “Phoning at ten at night?” “What ten o’clock? I never rang her!” “Liar. I saw it on your phone.”
Arthur felt his insides clench. He *had* rung Margaret, but for a different reason. Her daughter was applying to university where his mate worked; he’d promised to put in a good word. A favour, nothing more.
“Tammy, love, let me in so we can discuss this calmly.” “No. Explain from there.”
He glanced around the landing. Neighbours could appear; he hated airing dirty laundry. “Alright, listen. I did ring Margaret, true. But not why you think. Her girl’s hoping for med school; my pal’s there. I said I’d speak to him.” “And you expect me to buy that?” “It’s not a story, it’s fact!” “Fact? Why didn’t you mention it? Why keep it secret?”
Arthur hesitated. He genuinely hadn’t thought to tell her about a colleague’s favour. “I didn’t hide it. Just didn’t seem important.” “Right, unimportant. What else didn’t seem important? Care to explain why you were in that café with her after work?”
Arthur’s heart lurched. How could Tammy know? “How did you—”
“Jill saw you both. Says you were cosy, holding hands over coffee.” “We were not holding hands!” Arthur protested. “Only sat half an hour! She bought me a coffee to thank me for the help!” “Course she did. Folks are ever so grateful now.”
The fury in Tammy’s voice told him she wouldn’t relent. “Tammy, darling, think it through. Why would I want another woman? I’ve got you, our family.” “*Had* a family. Not anymore.” “What d’you mean?” “I mean I’m done living with a cheat.” “Cheat? I never did anything!” “Didn’t? What were you doing? Starting affairs?”
Arthur leaned his forehead against the door. The conversation was hopeless. “Tammy, let’s meet tomorrow when you’re calmer. Talk like grown-ups.” “I won’t calm down. And I won’t meet.” “Tammy—” “Go to your precious Margaret. Maybe she’ll let you in.” “What nonsense! What Margaret? I’m sixty, I’m a grandad! Why would I need affairs?” “Then why café dates with other women?” “I explained! Once, politeness!”
Arthur saw the trap. Nothing he said would satisfy her. “Fine,” he said wearily. “I’m going. But we *will* talk.” “No, we won’t.”
He grabbed his holdall and went down. His son Andrew waited in the car. “Well, Dad? Let you in?” Andrew asked, seeing his face. “No.” “Seriously?” Andrew was surprised. “Mum’s lost the plot?” “Don’t know, son. Don’t get it.”
They got in. Andrew started the engine but didn’t move. “Dad, what really happened? Mum said… things on the phone…” “What things?” “Well… that you’d got a mistress. That you’re cheating.”
Arthur sighed heavily. “Andrew, swear on anything you like – there’s no one. Never was. Mum’s imagined it all.” “Then where’d this Margaret come from?” “Margaret’s a work colleague. Ordinary woman. I helped her with her daughter, she bought coffee. That’s all.”
Andrew studied his father. “Dad, telling me true?” “True, son.” “Then why’s Mum acting like this? She usually cools off quick.” “Beats me.”
The car pulled away, taking Arthur to his son’s for the night. “Listen, Dad,” Andrew ventured, “maybe it’s not really about Margaret?” “What then?” “Dunno. Something else bothering Mum? Problems?”
Arthur considered. Lately, Tammy *had* seemed edgy, irritable. He’d blamed her age – she’d just turned fifty-eight, menopause likely. “Maybe you’re right. But why lock me out? We could sort it.” “Mum’s always been stubborn. Remember the silent treatments when I was little?”
Arthur remembered. Tammy could freeze him out for weeks over nothing. But she always made the first move.
At Andrew’s, Arthur had a restless night. By morning, he resolved to try again. “Andrew, take me home.” “Dad, maybe give Mum time?” “No, son. Can’t walk away. Not after thirty years.”
Reluctantly, Andrew agreed. Arriving home: “Want me to come up?” “No, I’ll try.”
Arthur reached the second floor and buzzed again. “Tammy, it’s me.” “Thought it was the plumber,” came the cold reply. “Tammy, we need to sort this.” “Nothing to sort.” “How d’you mean? We’re husband and wife!” “*Were*. Not now.”
Irritation flared in Arthur. “Tammy, stop this nonsense! Open the door!” “No.” “Why?” “Don’t want to see you.” “Why? What’ve I done?” “You know.”
The same circle. Arthur tried a new tack. “Fine, say I’m at fault. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” “Won’t? Won’t lie? Won’t cheat?” “I didn’t cheat!” “Right. Coffee with another woman, free afternoon?”
“For God’s sake! *Once*, for work!” “What work? Explain what work needs men in cafés with women?”
Arthur saw it was futile. Tammy wasn’t interested in talking, only fighting. “Know what, Tammy,” he said, forcing calm, “I won’t stand here like an idiot. Phone me
He sat alone in Edward’s spare room, turning my wedding ring nervously on my finger as rain lashed against the windowpane, realising with a heavy heart that Elizabeth’s door—and her life—might remain closed to me forever.
