“You only ever think of yourself. And Emily has never once in her life seen the real sea!” Katherine blurted out bitterly, desperately trying to make her husband understand her feelings before leaving.
“Tomorrow Im going to Mums cottage. For a week, maybe longer. And wholl wash and iron your shirtsnot my problem.”
“What do you mean, youre leaving? I thought youd be home. You could finally tidy up properly.”
“No, I decided Id rather rest at Mums.”
James sat at the kitchen table with his coffee, pretending to scroll through his phone. In truth, he was watching his wifes every move, sensing the tension in her steps.
Katherine had been silent for three days now, and it was worse than any argument. It had all started with yet another “discussion” about their holidayor rather, Jamess refusal to go to the seaside.
This year, for the first time in ages, they had both the time and savings. Katherine had long dreamed of a trip to the coast. The last time theyd been to Brighton was ten years ago, just the two of them. Since then, theyd had a daughterEmily, who had never once seen the sea with its rolling waves and white foam.
Katherine yearned for the sun and warm sand. She didnt mind the smell of sunscreen, the creak of deckchairs, or even the endless shouts and bustle of the beach.
But James dug in his heels.
“I told you, I cant stand that kind of holiday! Crowds, heat, sand in your shoes Id rather stay in the countryside. Its peaceful, cool under the fan, and no fuss.”
“You only think of yourself. Emily has never seen the sea!” Katherine said, hoping this might finally stir something in him.
“What does she need the sea for? We bought her that lovely paddling pool last year!” He waved her off, still glued to his phone.
Katherine adjusted her daughters T-shirt, zipped up her backpack, and pushed aside the bag of toys. On the table was a list: swimsuit, flip-flops, sun hat, storybook, ball Everything was in orderexcept the turmoil in her heart.
James still sat at the table, lazily flicking through news. In the last half-hour, he hadnt once asked if she needed helpnot with the journey, the packing, or even Emily. It made Katherine want to scream and cry at the same time.
“Mum, did we pack my goggles?” Emily tugged at her hand.
“Yes, love. Theyre in your bag.” Katherine forced a smile, though unease gnawed at her.
“Listen, maybe Ill drive you after all,” James muttered, not looking up.
Katherine stared at him, her expression a mix of exhaustion, anger, and hurt.
“Dont bother. Well manage,” she said flatly.
With that, she grabbed the car keys, and she and Emily walked out.
Margaret stood at the garden gate in a floral apron, a bunch of parsley in her hand. Spotting the car from a distance, she hurried over.
“My girls are here!” she exclaimed, helping unload groceries from the boot.
Emily dashed inside, knowing Granny had made her favourite pancakes. Katherine carried their things in, then sank slowly onto the bench by the porch.
Margaret set a plate of pancakes with strawberry jam in front of Emily before stepping outside.
“Somethings wrong, isnt it?” she asked gently.
Katherine hesitated, tucking her hair behind her ears before letting it all outhow James had refused the seaside, his indifference, that wretched paddling pool he thought could replace everything, and how she kept stepping back to keep up the illusion of a happy family.
Margaret listened without interrupting, then squeezed her daughters hand.
“Darling, you deserve happiness, rest, and support. Stay the weekend with me and Emily?”
“I didnt even pack anything.”
“Dont fret. Well find something old. You havent gained an ounce in ten yearsitll all fit.”
So it was settled. Katherine spent the day contentedlywatering plants, tending her mothers flowers, and eating her fill of raspberries. That evening, she and Emily splashed in the paddling pool before sipping homemade lemonade as crickets chirped.
James only remembered his wife was meant to return when he needed the carand found the keys werent in their usual spot.
“When are you coming home?” His voice crackled with irritation through the phone.
“Not tonight. Tomorrow,” Katherine replied shortly.
“What do you mean, tomorrow? I need the car. I was going fishing with Dave.”
“Call a taxi. Figure it out. Its too late nowIm not driving back.” She knew hed start shouting, so she ended the call.
Katherine muted her phone and placed it face-down on the windowsill. Shed already spoiled enough of the day. James could fume in their flat, surrounded by dirty mugs and his own self-importance.
When Emily, tired from play, finally fell asleep in the bedroom with the window open, Katherine and Margaret settled on the veranda. The air was warm and sweet with the scent of flowers and fresh-cut grass. It was perfectly quietjust the occasional chirp of crickets breaking the summer stillness.
“Yknow, Mum,” Katherine began, cradling a mug of warm milk, “I dont ask much of James. Just basic care. For him to say, Youre tiredIll help. Or If you want the seaside, well go.”
“James was never one for grand gestures,” Margaret murmured.
“I dont even expect flowers anymore. Just to be seen. To have my work for this family noticed. Were not strangers.”
“No, youre not. But when someones always there, they start being taken for granted,” Margaret sighed. “You have to remind him youre human. That this hurts.”
Katherine smiled bitterly. Thats exactly how she feltlike hired help, shouldering childcare, cleaning, cooking, and shopping while he did nothing.
Margaret spoke calmly, never judging or pushing her own viewsjust listening, occasionally offering a quiet word.
“Youve no idea how much that means, Mum,” Katherine said suddenly, meeting her eyes. “That youre always there when I need you You never say things like, What did you expect? All men are like that, or Put up with iteveryone else does, or Divorce would shame us. You just listen. Thats priceless.”
“Because youre my girlgrown, but still mine,” Margaret said softly. “Your life is yours to live. You must make your own mistakes and learn. No one knows better than you.”
Katherine nodded, feeling lighter.
“Yknow, Mum,” she said after a pause, “maybe Emily and I should go to the seaside. Just us. We both need it. Ive saved all year.”
Margaret smiled. “Good for you. Ill help with the ticketsa gift from Granny to her girls.”
Katherine returned home the next afternoon. Stepping inside, she kicked off her shoes and saw James sprawled on the sofa, an empty pizza box beside him.
“Finally!” he grumbled, not bothering to get up. “You took the car for a whole day! I was stuck here like an idiot. Dave and I were supposed to go fishing!”
Katherine ignored him, dropping her bag and heading to the kitchen.
“Why not call a taxi?” she asked calmly, filling the kettle.
“Because I have a car, remember?” he snapped. “You expect me to ride with strangers?”
“Yet its fine for me to lug bags and a child on the bus?”
James opened his mouth to retort, but Katherine was already in the bathroom, shutting the door.
For the next week, she avoided mentioning the trip. But the thought wouldnt leave her: Should she go alone with Emily? Tell James? Or just book the tickets and leave?
She printed out holiday deals but couldnt bring herself to pay. In her mind, she rehearsed conversations with Jamesexplaining, arguing, slamming imaginary doors.
Then something happened that settled it.
On Monday, Olivia returned to workfresh from holiday, glowing with a tan, bright-eyed, and relaxed. She laughed as she described teaching her son to swim, a seagull on their balcony, and how well shed slept by the sea.
Watching her, Katherines chest tightened with envy. That same day, sipping vending-machine coffee on her break, she made her decision: She was going. Her leave started in two weeksjust enough time to plan.
She opened her phone, found a cosy hotel in Cornwall with breakfast included, andwithout hesitationentered her card details and clicked “Pay.”
The fortnight flew by. Outwardly, nothing changed, but Katherines mind was already by the sea.
James, as ever, spent evenings glued to the TV or his phone, oblivious as she packed or bought new clothes.
Emily stayed at Margarets, blissfully unaware of the triprunning barefoot, picking berries, and waiting
