Waiting for my husband to get home from the office, Emma sat at the kitchen table sipping rosemaryinfused tea, taking her time with each slow swallow. The click of a key in the lock made her rise and pause in the doorway. In stepped James, his face set and his mouth tight.
Hi, she said first, youre late again. Ive been waiting all evening for you
Hi, James replied. You could have saved yourself the wait Im not hungry. Ill be in and out, just grabbing my things and then Im off. He slipped off his shoes without a word, moved into the hallway, opened the wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase.
Emma stared, stunned, as he began shoving his belongings into the case.
James, tell me whats going on, she asked.
Im leaving you, he said flatly, not meeting her eyes.
Where to?
To another woman
Ah, I suppose a younger one? Though youre still only forty, not exactly over the hill, Emma said with a wry edge as the reality sank in. I wont shed a tear he wont see them. And how long has this been going on?
Almost a year, James said calmly. Seeing her surprise, he added, Thats your problem. If you never noticed, I must have been hiding it well.
Youre really walking out or Emma blurted.
Emma, are you deaf? Listen, he snapped. Im leaving you for someone else. Were expecting a child with her. You and I couldnt have one, so Kate will give me a son. You have a month to get out of my flat. Where you go, how you manage it thats on you. Well be living with Kate and the baby while she stays in a rented house.
James turned and left. The walls of the flat seemed to close in on Emma, the silence pressing. She flicked the television on, just to hear something. Twelve years with James felt like a lifetime; it took her a week to pull herself together, but she did.
Her late parents had left her a cottage in a village. Living alone out there didnt appeal to her.
I cant stay there, Emma thought. Its miles from any town, no amenities, no work. At thirtyfive I dont want a rural existence. Ill sell the place and use the money for a room in a council flat or a hostel. The rest will sort itself out.
She sold the cottage as soon as she got back to the village. Her neighbour, Mrs. Brown, was already waiting.
Sweetheart, good youre here. We were about to drive into town looking for you.
Whats happened? Emma asked.
My relatives from the north want to buy your house. They need a little fixerup that they can rebuild on. My sister and her husband would like it close to us
My God, Brown, thats why I came. Let them have it, well just agree on a price. Heres my number
Within ten days the money was in her hands a modest sum, what you get from a halfruined property. She bought a small room in a council block. The kitchen was communal, two other rooms were occupied by flatmates, and she took the third for herself, so she called it a council flat.
The neighbours were quiet, respectable folk. Emma rarely crossed paths with them; she spent most of her day at work. It was there that a romance with a colleague, Michael, began to blossom. At first everything seemed fine, at least to her.
Just before International Womens Day, Michael said, I need time to think. Im not sure about my feelings. Lets put a pause on us.
Fine, take a walk in the woods if you want, Emma snapped back.
That evening she came home angry, thirtysix and with no patience for pauses. She tried to drown the stress in food. Opening the fridge she found a small slice of ham only to discover it missing.
Who took my ham? she shouted across the kitchen.
It was me, love. I threw it out two days ago itd gone green and smelled awful. I thought you wouldnt want to eat it, so I got rid of it, said the neighbour, Mrs. Davies, in a calm, slightly conspiratorial tone.
You dont get to decide what I eat! Emma roared. You have no right to touch other peoples food.
Emma let loose all the anger she had been building not just at James, but at losing a home, losing a partner, and now a colleague pulling away. Mrs. Davies tried to calm her.
Dont take it personally, dear, said Mr. Clarke, the sixtyyearold gentleman who lived in the adjacent room. He was a silverhaired, bespectacled, gentle sort, always perched in an old armchair with a newspaper or a book. He watched Mrs. Davies cheeks redden.
Emma is angry right now. Shes lashing out because someone else has upset her. Dont let it get to you, Mr. Clarke said, never looking up from his paper.
Who are you to lecture me? Emma shot back. No one asked your opinion.
Believe me, I know a thing or two, he replied.
Then why are you stuck in this cramped council flat? Emma pressed, unable to stop herself.
Seeing the futility, Emma took a breath and decided to apologise. She knocked on Mrs. Davies door.
Forgive me, Mrs. Davies. I dont know what came over me. So much has piled up Mr. Clarke was right, Emma said, voice softer.
Mrs. Davies smiled, gave Emma a hug, and said, It happens, love. Come have a cup of tea with some biscuits. And you might want to apologise to Mr. Clarke as well hes had a rough go of it.
She then launched into her own tale. Her husband, a university professor, had his wife diagnosed with a brain tumour. Doctors said it was too late, so they sought treatment in Israel. He borrowed a fortune, went with her, and the operation succeeded but the improvement was fleeting. She lived a little longer before passing. He quit his job, cared for her until the end, then sold his city flat to clear the debts. Thats how he ended up in the council block.
Emma felt tears welling up.
Thank you for sharing, she whispered. Ill apologise tomorrow.
The next day, after work, Emma shyly knocked on Mr. Clarkes door, a small wrapped gift in hand. He opened it.
Good evening, Mr. Clarke, she said, extending the package. Please accept my apology, for Gods sake. I didnt deserve to snap at you yesterday.
He listened without interruption. When she finished, he smiled.
What a pleasant surprise. Ill accept both the gift and your apology on one condition. Tonight is my birthday, so how about we celebrate together?
Oh, happy birthday! The gift is perfect, Emma replied brightly. What can I do to help?
Together with Mrs. Davies they set the table. While arranging the plates, Emma opened up about herself how, as a naïve university student, shed trusted a married man, become pregnant, and hed taken her to the hospital and paid for everything, then theyd split. Shed never been able to have a child afterwards, which perhaps explained why James had left her.
Just as the table was set, there was a knock. A tall, smiling man in his forties stood on the threshold.
Hello, Im Roman, Mrs. Daviess son, he introduced himself.
Come in, Emma, make yourself at home, she replied.
The conversation over dinner was lively. They toasted Mr. Clarke, wished him health and happiness, and laughed heartily. Roman turned out to be a fascinating companion, full of stories. Hed once been a geologist, now worked as a longhaul truck driver, so his tales were never short of adventure.
Emma couldnt believe it. Only a day ago shed known nothing about these people; now they were chatting like old friends.
After a few hours Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Davies retired to their rooms. Roman then said, Shall we take a walk? Tell me about yourself. Im not a regular here, and youre new to me. I have a flat in the city, travel a lot, and my mum refuses to move away. Shes a bit smitten with Mr. Clarke, and I think he feels the same, he chuckled. I havent been home much, what with my work, but Im thinking of settling down.
Outside, the first snow of winter was falling in thick, silent flakes. The streets were hushed, windless, and Emma and Roman talked for hours, the cold never reaching them. Eventually they went their separate ways.
Three days later Roman had to catch a long haul. He told Emma, Itll be a week, then Im back. Will you wait for me?
Of course, she answered, Ill be counting the days.
Thus began their romance, which grew into a deep, lasting love. They married, Emma moved in with Roman, and a year later their little boy, Jack, was born. When Roman was away on a long route, Emma and Jack would return to her council flat for a spell.
Days slipped by in a blur of waiting, but Mrs. Davies and Mr. Clarke were always there, caring for their grandson. In the end, Emma realised shed found a family she never expected, and there was no better nanny for Jack than the two kindly neighbours who had become her second family.
