Youve landed yourself in it now, mate
James wasnt in a hurry to go home after work. The rented flat he lived in could hardly be called a homejust a temporary stopgap. He took the long way round, driving through the city as rain lashed against the windscreen and the wind tore leaves from the trees. A single yellow one got stuck under the wiper on the passenger side. Summer was well and truly over. His dad used to say, “As the lasses go, so goes the summer.”
His dad. No saint, that onefond of a drink. Mum would scold, but James loved when his father came home tipsy. Hed turn soft-hearted and slip James a fiver. The next day after school, James would head to the shops to chase his dreambuying a pocketknife like the one Simon had or a bottle of Coca-Cola with a bag of crisps.
Ah, those were the days. Everything seemed simple and exciting back then, with his parents there to protect him, explain things, offer advice. And then there was the girlEmily. Fragile, with fair hair and clear blue eyes. A strong breeze mightve carried her away, so he always held her hand.
But their bond never grew into something deeper. Hed only kissed her once, a brief press of lips against hers. All hed wanted was to walk far, far away, hand in hand with Emily.
Her father was in the military, and shed joined their school in Year 7. By the start of Year 10, hed been reassigned, and the family moved to Manchester.
How many times had James wanted to call or text her? But what then? They werent coming back, and hed likely never make it to Manchester. Why stir up false hope? She mustve thought the same, because she never reached out either.
Yet his heart clung to her memory. He only dated girls who reminded him of Emily, but none matched the image in his mindor the one hed invented. Who could tell anymore?
His wife, though, was nothing like Emily. Or rather, shed chosen him. Theyd been in the same uni group. Olivia dated other blokes, and she wasnt his type. But during their third-year internship at the same company, they often walked home together. Olivia was from some villagethough she insisted it was a “town.”
The halls emptied in summer, most students gone for break. Olivia stayed. One evening, she invited James over, saying shed made a proper beef stew and had no one to share it with.
With little else to do, he went. His mates had warned himgirls from out of town were known to trap local lads into marriage to stay in the city. “Watch your step, or youll blink and find yourself hitched,” theyd say.
The stew was deliciousbetter than his mums. Then came the inevitablethey ended up in bed. At the last second, James hesitated, but Olivia assured him she was on the pill. They carried on like that all summer. He didnt love her; it was purely physical, nothing like what hed felt for Emily.
Term started, and they barely spoke outside lectures. A month later, Olivia cornered him between buildings and said she was pregnant.
“You told me you were on the pill,” James said.
“Missed a couple doses. Never had issues before, but with you Im scared to get an abortionwhat if I cant have kids after?” She seemed genuinely upset.
He pitied her, and hed grown used to her over the summer. He told his parents, introduced Olivia. She helped set the table and slipped his mum a few cooking tips, winning her over.
“Such a homemaker. At least I wont worry about my son starving,” his mum said.
They married before New Yearswhite dress, cake, silly games. Who came up with the tradition of carrying the bride over a bridge? His mates ribbed him: “Bigger steps, Jim. Get used to marching like this the rest of your life.”
Olivia was sturdyno delicate flowerso it was a workout, but James managed without embarrassing himself.
Thats when he realised hed been caught. But married life started well. His parents scraped together enough for a one-bed flat. Olivia nested, kept the fridge stocked. His mum sang her praises on visits.
Then the baby came, and everything changed. Olivia took a gap year. His mum still worked, but helped evenings. James switched to part-time studies and got a job at the internship firm.
He dragged himself to work exhausted. Lily was colicky, kept them up nights. The second he got home, Olivia shoved the wailing baby into his arms. But when his mum visited, magic happenedLily quieted in her arms, Olivia rested, and his mum cooked.
“Dont rush into another one. You do your part, son,” shed whisper on her way out.
After marriage and the baby, Olivia became religious about her pillseven waking at night to check shed taken them. If only shed been this careful earlier.
As Lily grew, the flat cramped them. Money was tight. James graduated and job-hopped, but pay was low or bosses pushed shady deals.
“Honest work doesnt pay. Others managelearn from them,” Olivia nagged whenever he quit.
But he refused to cheat. He carried the family alone until Olivia finished her degree. She became an executive assistantmodest pay but prospects. Two incomes, yet never enough.
“Cut back on your outfits,” James grumbled.
“Im the directors front faceI have to look presentable. You could find better work.”
Olivia stayed late oftenmeetings, client dinners. James grew jealous. Rare was a day without bickering. Then she said she wanted out.
“We have a daughteryou wont toss us out. We cant split the flat.”
“Ive expected this. You held on longer than I thought,” James admitted. “Found someone richer?”
“If youd listened, we wouldnt be here.”
“You never loved me. I was just your ticket to the city”
“Youve never lived in a villagehauling water, chopping wood for heat.”
James smirked. Finally, she admitted it was a village.
“Pack my things. I might take something extra,” he said.
She did, neatly folding them into a suitcase and bag. He didnt go to his parents, renting a flat instead. So there he wasalone, no family, no home, just child support. He started drinking, needing vodka to sleep. His neighbour often joined.
“Lucky youdrink all you want, no wife pecking your head like a woodpecker,” the neighbour envied. Yet when his own wife came calling, hed scamper home happily.
After losing another job, James knew he had to quit drinking or hit rock bottom.
“Got a drink?” The neighbour found a bottle and poured it down the sink. “Can you believe it?”
“Sorry, mate. Im done. Got a job offerneed to clean up.”
“Ah, right. Off I go, then.”
That night, sleepless, James wished for a drink. He stared out the window as lights blinked off in distant flats.
A mate got him a courier gig at Amazon. One delivery took him to a flat where a girl answered. She hit him like lightningso like Emily.
“Do you assemble furniture?” she asked.
“No, just deliver. Need help?” He wanted toshe was tiny, fragile. “I could, after work.”
“Really? Ill pay whatever you say.”
“Ill come by after eight, yeah?”
He thought of her all day. Running late, he even swung home to change. By the time he arrived, it was past nine.
“Sorry Im late.”
“No worries, come in.”
Two hours assembling the wardrobe. The kitchen smelled amazinghis stomach growled. He hadnt eaten properly all day. When done, she invited him to eat. His own meals were coffee, toast, or eggs.
Her name was Emily. He guessed she was a student, but she proudly said she worked. The wardrobe was done, dinner eatenno reason to stay. He thanked her, refusing payment. In the hallway, he fussed with his trainers, reluctant to leave the cosy flatand her.
She waited. Finally, he zipped his jacket but lingered. She stood ready to shut the door. Then, impulsive, he kissed herjust a brush of lips before pulling back. She didnt recoil, just looked at him. So he kissed her properly.
“Sorry,” James said, bolting.
He flew downstairs, grinning all the way home.
Hed barely stepped inside when the neighbour turned up with a bottle.
“Took your time. What kept you?”
“Sorry, mate. Im done. No snacks either.”
The neighbour left sighing. James sat at the table, telling himself to forget her. Emily wasnt for him. No use dreaming.
But two days later, she called.
“Its Emily. You assembled my wardrobe. I kept your number.”
“Right. Whats up?
