So this is what they call business trips
I cant marry you. Thats what youre after, isnt it?
Honestly, how Emily didnt faint on the spot is a mystery even to herself. Sudden thunderclaps and knives to the heart simply paled in comparison to the wave of feelings that crashed over her. Not once had it entered her mind that her beloved was married! Yes, he was away on business trips regularly, but thats just the nature of his job right?
Emily had left her quaint village at sixteen, with firm plans never to look back. Her mum, Patricia Thompson, weathered by life and endless shifts plucking chickens at the local factory, had absolutely no objections to her daughters escape. Whats to stay for? Break your back for coppers at a poultry farm and never see the daylight? was her general attitude.
So, during Emilys first few shaky years in the city, Mum did her best to help out. Emily became fully independent by the time she finished college and landed a job at a modest logistics firm. Around that time, fortune finally tossed her a bonea long-lost great aunt, whom neither of them had laid eyes on, up and left Patricia a tiny two-bedroom flat in her will. Unsurprisingly, Pat handed it straight over to Emily, like any mother would.
That left just one box unticked: marriage. Tricky business, that. Emily had always dreamed of a husband, not a sugar daddy like a few of her mates, but try as she might, found no worthy candidate applying for the role. Shed muddled through two short-lived romances, neither bringing much joy or so much as a whiff of white dress.
There was once a boy from the next street overNickwhod stared at her so adoringly it was as though she walked on clouds. Emily hadnt given him a moments thought back then, but she remembered the look. None of her later boyfriends ever looked at her that way. They looked at silly comedies, football, and the price of lager in the Tesco. Emily had zero patience for that lot.
But then there was Philip. Tall, charming, confidence in spades, and sixteen years her seniorhe looked at her just like Nick once had. He said all the right things, acted with certainty, and before long Emily was head over heels.
Soon, she was picturing the white frock, a honeymoon somewhere sunny, and a curly-haired child. But fate clearly read a different scriptskipping straight to the last chapter.
Im pregnant! she announced with nerves and excitement, eyeing Philip expectantly. This was his cue to propose.
Blimey! Philip gasped, then caught himself: Thats wonderful, but, erm, not great timing.
Why not?
I cant marry you. Thats what youre after, right? Well, see Im married.
How Emily didnt drop like a stone, shell never know. Forget thunderstorms and daggersnothing compared to this. Never in her wildest dreams had she guessed her Prince Charming was already tied down! Sure, his work took him away often, but shed always thought it innocent.
Seeing her appalled expression, Philip quickly assured her that divorce was practically a formalityhe and his wife had been heading that way for years. It was only the fifteen-year-old daughter he felt guilty about, but as he pointed out, Lily was old enough to cope with being left with her mother. Hed have plenty of energy for a new child, he insisted.
Emily wasnt completely convinced, but three months on, Philip actually showed her the divorce papers, and a month after that, they got marriedno fancy do, no honeymoon, but technically, her plans had come true.
Philip moved into her flat (well, sharing a roof with the ex-wife was hardly cricket), and together they were decently happy. Soon enough, little Oliver arrived, making their joy complete.
Philip still travelled for workproper business trips this timeand provided well, never forgetting to send maintenance for Lily. Emily managed fine with the baby on her own and never complained.
One day, as she was leaving the Co-Op, she heard a familiar voice: Emily? Want a hand? A young man deftly helped her carry Olivers pram down the rampit gave her time to take a good look.
Nick? SorryNicholas, now, I suppose? Emily took in her old admirer with a smile.
Indeed, it was that same Nickthe pale, awkward boy whod once gazed at her like the sun shone just for him. Only now, hed grown into a rather handsome young man. At 25, he was barely a year younger than Emily herself.
Nick walked them to her door, but she didnt invite him inno need to give the neighbours something to gossip about, or Philip a reason to act jealous. Theyd already wandered around the neighbourhood chatting for nearly an hour; no need for complications.
He didnt seem bothered, just asked for her number, just in case. She took his too, with no real plan to ring.
For the next two months to her puzzlement, Nick kept accidentally turning up on her street, and the two walked together with Oliver. They chatted idlyEmily never thought of him as anything but a mate, and Nick never let on if he minded, keeping her entertained with funny stories and playing with little Oliver.
Then one day, Oliver came down with a raging fever, and Emily had to call out the doctor. There were prescriptions to fetch, but she was stuck at home, waiting any minute for Philip to come back from his trip.
You nearly home? she phoned. Need to nip to Boots for Olivers medicine. Ill text you the list.
Dad? Where ARE you? Mum and I are starving! Emily clearly heard a girls voice in the background.
Where are you? Emilys voice broke as suspicion sunk in.
Oh, I popped round to see Lily. Whats wrong, am I not allowed? Philip sounded irritated.
Dad, we waited for you at dinner yesterdayand again tonight! Come on! Lily called in the background.
Right, Emily muttered, and hung up.
She shook with anger, but there were more pressing mattersthank goodness for the neighbour who agreed to babysit Oliver while she ran to the pharmacy.
Philip appeared three hours later.
Im not going to make excuses, he declared, barely inside the door. Yes, I love you and our son, but I miss my first family too. The truth is, Ive been spending nights there for the past six months. If you cant deal with that, sorry.
Cant deal with it? Emily repeated, stunned. I thought we loved each otherI thought we were a family, and you you Her words failed.
Youre just a traitor! I dont even want to see your face!
If hed just apologised or even made a pathetic attempt at an excuse, Emily might have forgiven him. But Philip quietly collected his things, looked in on their sleeping son, and left.
Dont worryIll keep sending money for Oliver.
Oh, sod off! she shrieked, slamming the door so hard she woke the baby.
Emily spent three days in floods of tears, ignoring all calls and textswho else could it be but Philip? And she certainly wasnt in the mood for anyone else.
But when the doorbell rang in that persistent way, she had to answer.
Are you alive? Oliver all right? Nick bear-hugged her as if he hadnt seen her in a decade. Why havent you answered me?
Emily burst into fresh tears.
Nick made her some gag-inducing herbal tea, listened to her tangled story and stroked her hair, murmuring, Itll all be fine.
He refused to leave, bunked on her sofa, and in the morning cooked breakfast before heading off to work.
For a whole week he lived with her: sorting Oliver, doing the Tesco run (out of his own pocket), fixing bits and pieces, rustling up meals.
Dont you have work to go to? Emily asked one day, bleary eyed.
Took some time off.
A week later, one thing led to another and they found themselves in the same bed. Why not? Philip had vanishedwell, apart from the bank transfer. Emily decided Nick was better husband material than that two-timing Philip anyway.
Nick didnt move in for goodstill waiting for his own divorce, supposedly set for the following monthbut he stayed over often. Emily may not have been wildly in love, but she felt calm and at ease with him. Oliver adored him too.
You should have seen Philips face when he spotted the three of them strolling in the park! Emilys heart flutteredsurely Philip would realise, apologise, beg to come back and
But before she could finish the thought Philip just turned the other way, then greeted them politely and began playing with Oliver.
Well, that settled it. Emily knew shed made the right choice.
Then, out of the blue, her mum materialisedcalled to say she was arriving by taxi and would need a hand with the bags. Nick had just left for work, and Emily figured it was time her mother heard the news about her so-called new man.
Over breakfast and the usual exchange of updates, Patricia suddenly asked, That NickLindas son from downstairs, isnt he? Living in the same building?
Emily froze, her mug suspended midair. Linda was Nicks mother.
What makes you say that?
Well, I spotted him just now. What a proper lad hes become! Theres no work back home, you knowmost blokes shoot off to London, but he refused. Says he cant bear being away from his girls. Always popping back home, bringing cash with him. Didnt I tell you he got married three years ago? He and his wife have a daughter, Sophie
Her mums words barely registered. Emily sank, defeated, onto a kitchen stool.
Second time! Twice! She hadnt even checked if he was married! Hows a girl supposed to trust any man these daysor should she just stop trusting altogether?
Emily finished things with Nickwell, chucked him out, actually, and banned him from her flat. Refused to even listen to his promises about just waiting until Sophie was a bit older before divorcing his wife.
Looks like Emily simply wasnt destined for a happy endingInstead, Emily began to rediscover the quiet hum of her own life. After the last door slammed and the ache inside her chest stopped throbbing, she noticed small things shed ignored for years: the sparkle in Olivers eyes as he patted her cheek, the sweet, weary smile on her mothers face as she folded baby vests, the clink of teacups and the dim, friendly laughter wafting up from the street below.
She caught herself humming as she bathed Oliver in the warm light of the bathroom, and one evening, after a day that had been neither bad nor particularly good, she left the telly off and simply sat at the little kitchen table, staring through the steamed-up window at the city lights. It was astonishing how much room she suddenly had to stretch inside her own head.
When her neighbours offered a helping hand or the shopkeeper tossed in a pack of biscuits for the little one, Emily found she didnt mind accepting anymore. Once, she would have seen it as defeat. Now she just smiled, letting the kindness work a silent patch on all the places shed worn thin.
There were men, of courseacquaintances, hopeful strangers at soft play, smiles on the busbut Emily just nodded a polite hello and went on her way. It surprised her how much she didnt miss the dreaming, the planning, the desperate hoping for someone to save her from herself. She could do that, after all. Maybe shed always been able to, if only shed noticed.
One chilly Sunday, with the leaves swirling gold and bronze in the gutter, Emily packed Oliver into his buggy and walked down to the park. She watched her son totter after pigeons under the half-bare trees, shouting with new-found words and chasing laughter on his own sturdy feet.
Something in her unfurleda quiet, stubborn joy. It wasnt what shed pictured as a girl, but here it was, and she was strong enough to hold it. Everyone said happiness came with a husband or a wedding, or some kind of white-frosted ending. Emily now knew better.
She squatted down in the grass, her knees damp and cold, and Oliver ran straight for her, throwing himself into her arms. His muffled giggle warmed her clear through.
Come on, love, she murmured into his hair, Lets go home.
And for once, she meant exactly that.
