**The Happiness of a Council Flat**
Sophie sat at the kitchen table, sipping her chamomile tea slowly, waiting for her husband to return from work. The sound of a key turning in the lock made her pause. She stood, lingering in the doorway as Edward walked in, his expression grim and silent.
“Hello,” she said first, her voice measured. “You’re late again. I finished dinner ages agoI was just waiting for you.”
“Hello,” he replied flatly. “You didnt have to. Im not hungry, anyway. I wont be here longjust need to collect a few things.” He didnt even remove his shoes before striding past her toward the bedroom, pulling an old suitcase from the wardrobe.
Sophie stood frozen, watching as he carelessly tossed in whatever clothes were within reach. “Edward, whats going on?”
His answer was cold and detached. “Surely you can figure it out. Im leaving you.”
“Where to?”
“Theres someone else.”
She let out a bitter laugh, her voice sharp. “Of coursesomeone younger, I suppose? Though forty isnt exactly old, is it?” She clenched her fists, refusing to cry. “How long has this been going on?”
“Nearly a year,” he said, unfazed. “If you didnt notice, thats on you. I was careful.”
Her stomach twisted. “So youre leaving for good, then?”
“Sophie, listen carefully,” he snapped. “We couldnt have children. But Emilyshes pregnant. With my son. You have a month to move out. Where you go is your problem. Emily and I will live here with the babyshes been renting some shabby place until now.”
Then he was gone. The flat felt suffocating, the silence unbearable. She turned on the telly just to hear another voice. Twelve years together, and it took her a week to pull herself together.
Her parents had left her a cottage in the countryside, but the thought of living there alone made her shudder. “I cant do it,” she muttered. “Middle of nowhere, no jobs, no life. At thirty-five, Im not ready to rot in some village.” So she sold itfast.
Her neighbour, Margaret, had been waiting. “Sophie, love, thank goodness youre here! We were about to come looking for you.”
“Why? Whats happened?”
“Well, my nephew and his wifetheyre looking for a place like yours. They want to tear it down, build something new. Thought you might be interested?”
Sophie nearly laughed in relief. “Margaret, youre a lifesaver. If the price is right, they can have it today.”
The money wasnt muchbarely enough for a dingy bedsit in a council block. Shared kitchen, two other tenants, and her tiny room. Still, it was something.
Her neighbours seemed quiet enoughrespectable, if distant. Between work and a new fling with a colleague named James, Sophie barely saw them. Until one night, just before International Womens Day, James dropped a bombshell.
“I need space. Im not sure about us anymore.”
“Space?” she seethed. “Fine. Sod off, then.”
Fuming, she stormed home, craving comfort food. But when she opened the fridge, the last slice of ham was gone.
“Who took my ham?” she barked across the kitchen.
Vera, the elderly neighbour, looked up guiltily. “Love, I threw it out two days agoit had gone green. Didnt think youd want it.”
“You had no right!” Sophie exploded. “First my husband, then James, now you? Mind your own bloody business!”
Vera shrank back, but another voice cut incalm, steady. “Vera, dont take it to heart. Shes angry at someone else.”
Sophie whirled on the speakerIvan, a silver-haired man in glasses, always reading in his armchair. “And who asked you?”
He didnt flinch. “I know a thing or two.”
“Oh, really? Then why are *you* living in this dump?”
Vera slipped away, but the guilt gnawed at Sophie. An hour later, she forced herself to apologise.
Vera forgave her easily, pulling her into a hug. “Come, have tea with us. But you should apologise to Ivan, toohe didnt deserve that.”
Sophie hesitated. “Why? Who *is* he?”
Vera sighed. “A professor. Had a lovely flat in Kensington, a brilliant career. Then his wife fell illbrain cancer. Our doctors gave up, but he found a clinic in Switzerland. Sold everything to pay for it. She survived the surgery, but… not for long. After she passed, he sold his flat to settle the debts. Ended up here.”
Sophies throat tightened.
The next evening, she knocked on Ivans door, clutching a small gift. “Ivan, Im so sorry. I was awful.”
He smiled faintly. “Apology acceptedif youll join me for my birthday.”
Over cake and tea, the ice melted. Veras son, Daniel, arriveda lorry driver with stories from the road. He made Sophie laugh for the first time in months.
Later, walking through the snowy streets, Daniel asked, “Will you wait for me? Ill be back in a week.”
She smiled. “Ill wait.”
Their romance bloomed into love. They married, moved into his flat, and a year later, little Alfie was born. When Daniels on long hauls, Sophie and Alfie stay in her old roomwhere Vera and Ivan dote on their “grandson.”
For the first time in years, shes happy. And it all started in that crumbling council flat.
