13th April
Sometimes, I wonder what wouldve happened if Id just listened to Mum. I still remember the words echoing around the kitchen like old ghosts: Who would want you now, Lydia? Youre hardly a catch anymore, are you? Not with two children. Youve really let yourself go.
John always delivered his jabs with such ease, as if he were reciting them off a shopping list. Face it, Lydia, whod be interested in you? Youve gained weight, youre not the woman you once were. You do realise that having two kids doesnt exactly do you any favours?
And so it went. Sit tight, Lydia, and dont try anything clever. What, your husband had a bit on the side and you want the world to stop? Why do men stray, Lydia? Tell me. Any idea? Of course not you know it yourself, youre to blame.
According to John, it was my job to keep myself attractive, to keep him close. Apparently, if anything went awry, I had myself to blame.
He got up, plonked his empty mug by the sink, then headed for the hallway. Paused. Stop crying, Lydia, and make something decent for tea, would you? Im sick of your chicken do some proper English sausages for a change. Ill fetch the kids from nursery.
He left. And there I sat, slumped in his chair.
My heart felt empty. I wanted to run just go somewhere, far away, where nobody would ever find me.
Then the phone rang, a shrill sound that pulled me back.
Mums name flashed up. I didnt want to pick up shed instantly know something was wrong, but rather than support me, shed take his side, like always.
You just listen to your husband, Lydia! So what if hes been unfaithful? At least he always comes home, puts food on the table. Count your blessings, girl! Better than ending up with nothing but debts and screaming brats, like I did. Or would you prefer to go crawling back to your bonkers Nan in the countryside? Shell soon sort you out.
Mum said these sorts of things all the time that was her way. And I took it, swallowed it, buried it.
Years of Johns affairs, of his arguments and sneering. Id swallowed it all for nearly five years.
I met John when I was studying at college. He was charming, confident, handsomely rugged. He made me feel as if I was the only one in the world. There were flowers, little gifts, day trips to Brighton Pier. I fell for him, hard.
A year later, I realised I was pregnant. John stepped up, proposed, and I, young and foolish, said yes.
Married life, however, was not how Id pictured it growing up.
The first few months, I was constantly exhausted. Somehow, I missed it when John first started his affairs. When I finally realised, our son, Matthew, had just been born a baby who hardly ever slept, and neither did I.
John said looking after a baby was a womans job; his duty was bringing home the bacon, and he did it well.
When Matthew was just a year old, I found out I was expecting again. John insisted I keep the baby. Mum told me the same supposedly, a second child would make my husband stick with me.
But things werent smooth, and John changed overnight back to being the attentive man Id first loved. For a while. He helped, he cared, and I thawed, convinced things could really work.
Then Laura was born. John slipped back into his old ways, not bothering to hide his infidelity, picking fights for no reason.
I bounced between my children and my husband, constantly uncertain about what the next day would bring, which somehow always felt worse than the last.
I tried seeking refuge with Mum, but she always took Johns side.
Hell stop straying one day! Youve got kids, Lydia, and his words are just that words. Hang on in there. Itll blow over.
But there was no help there.
Sometimes I considered calling Nan, but shame stopped me. She never stood for men like John. Unlike Mum, who let men walk all over her, Nan was different.
Theyd always argued about it Mum and Nan.
Nan never knew the full extent of what went on in our home. I concealed it because I knew shed never understand why I stayed.
Eventually, I fried the sausages John wanted, put the kettle on for pasta, when the phone buzzed again. Mum. I ignored it.
Weve nothing to talk about! I thought. She just wants to take his side, as always.
Restless, I watched out the window. By now, John should have been back with the children from nursery.
But the flat was still quiet.
I saw them, finally John and the kids at the park, him on the phone, laughing, putting on a show as if nothing had happened.
In that moment, something inside me snapped. I understood that nothing would ever change. It would only get worse.
Memories circled in my mind: once, Id asked John why he loved me, the simple country girl from Wiltshire.
Hed smiled in that familiar, patronising way.
Oh, Lydia, girls from the countryside are healthy. Its good for future generations, dont you know? You being strong means our kids will be strong. Thats important these days.
I should have seen it then. To him, I was just a sturdy babysitter, a dependable nanny for his children. And he wanted someone who wouldnt fight back.
But at that window, clarity descended. I wouldnt stay silent any longer.
I reached for my mobile and rang Nan.
The next morning, after John went to work and I shouldve been taking the children to nursery, I went back to the flat, packed our bags, and called nursery to say Matthew and Laura wouldnt be in today.
John always ate lunch out, which gave me a head start. After a couple of hours, we were on a coach, headed back to the village Id grown up in.
Nan was the only person in the world I could count on to defend me.
Shed already asked her neighbour, George, to pick us up from the stop. He arrived right on time, and Nan stood at the gate as we pulled up.
That whole first day was spent bustling around, settling in, but come evening, when the kids were finally calm, Nan and I sat alone in the kitchen.
After explaining everything, I almost whispered, Nan, what now? Hell never leave us alone. Not for me, but for the children hell fight tooth and nail for them.
Nan just smiled.
So what? Hes the father, youre their mother. No mother worth her salt has ever handed over her children without a fight. You dont cry, Lydia, you stand up for yourself. That sort like your John are only brave when you let them be.
I nodded. Its just Im scared, Nan.
She patted my hand. Dont let him see it. Stand your ground. By the by, if you ever forgive and go back to him, dont look for my help again, you hear? We all choose our path, love. And happiness is out there, wandering about, making its way to you. Wait for it, dont run after the wrong thing.
Sure enough, John and Mum turned up the following day. There were rows, shouting, accusations. But with Nan behind me, I stood firm. Eventually, they left, empty-handed.
I stepped out onto the porch. There was a hint of blossom in the air.
Its been three years now since I divorced John. Its not been easy the custody battles alone were exhausting.
But I survived, guided by Nans wisdom and courage. And my two little ones, Matthew and Laura, for whom I endured everything, and for whom Im finally free.
As for happiness Nan says its just around the corner, waiting to be found.
And you know what? She was right.
A year after wed settled in the village, I met Andrew a widower who ran a small business in the nearby town. We began seeing each other, and six months later, we married. Moved into his lovely new house, and it finally feels like home. John never dares show his face here. Sometimes, the children visit him Andrew drives them there and back.
Im happy, truly happy at last. Looking back, Im immeasurably grateful to Nan for giving me the courage to make the right choice.
If anyone out there ever feels stuck, know that the right kind of happiness the kind that is yours is worth waiting for. And when it comes, youll know, because the truest joys are the ones youve fought for.
