The air was thick with the scent of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding when the front door burst open. Lydia Harrington stormed into the cottage, her face flushed like a boiled lobster.
“Edward! You need to hear the truth about your wife!” she shouted, her voice sharp as a butchers cleaver.
“Mum, sit down. Youre red as a beetrootyour blood pressure,” Edward fumbled, half-rising from his chair.
“Oh, Ill do more than sit!” She whirled on her daughter-in-law, Emily, eyes narrow as slot machines. “Ran into Sarah from your office today. She told me everything.”
Emily didnt flinch. “And whats that?”
“That you got promoted a year ago! Your salarys double Edwards now, and he didnt even know! You kept it quiet!” Lydias breath came in short, furious gasps, as though shed sprinted from the train station.
“Whats it to you? We dont ask you for money. We manage fine.”
“Fine? Last spring, when I needed help fixing the conservatory, you claimed you were skint! Now we find out youre rolling in it! Saving up to leave him, are you?”
Emily stood, cool as a December morning. “Edward, fetch the blue folder from the nightstand.”
He obeyed, silent as a shadow. Inside lay papersbank statements, neatly filed.
“Whats this?” He frowned. “Savings?”
“For Oliver and Sophie. Ive been setting aside part of my wages every monthfor their future. When I realised your family still saw me as an outsider, I had to think ahead.”
“Outsider?” Edward cut in.
“You forgot the flat in Kensington? The one bought with the money from selling the old maisonette? Put only in your name. ‘Just in case.’ You never said a word. I was seven months pregnant, Edward. Did you think I wouldnt notice?”
Lydia scoffed. “It was a safety net!”
“From what? The mother of your grandchildren?” Emilys voice trembled like a struck tuning fork. “And then you wonder why Im distant?”
“Wheres the money, Emily?” Lydia pressed. “If not for the family, youre hoarding it to bolt!”
“Edward, see your mother out. Were done here.”
“Too right Im leaving!” Lydia hissed, but at the door, she tossed back, “Thoughyou were never really suited, were you?”
When the latch clicked, the silence stretched like taffy.
“Did you really think I was planning an exit?” Edward finally murmured.
“I didnt know. You never spoke. Silence is an answer too.”
“I dont want a divorce. I love you. And the kids.”
“Then prove it. Show me Im not just temporary.”
“Alright. Ill transfer the flat to Sophie. Start proper trust funds for them. Small, but steady. Trust goes both ways.”
Emily nodded, the ghost of relief in her eyes.
“And no more talk of divorce,” he added.
“Agreed.”
For the first time in years, the air between them didnt hum with suspicion.
A family isnt held together by pounds and pence, but by truth. Silence erodes; honesty builds.
