The Decision

On Tuesday, well all go to the boutique together. We have to help Nina pick out a dress! Lisa pushed her plate away and lounged back in her chair.

Why are we going with her? Why not her mum?

You know what Ninas mum is like!

She seemed alright to me. I hardly remember her, though. Only saw her a couple times, when Nina invited us to the theatre for her premieres.

That so-called alright woman kicked her younger daughter out the flat when she got married.

Why? Was the flat too small for all of them?

No, her mind was what was small. She was afraid of a bit of competition.

Tanya dropped her fork and gawked at her friend.

Oh, for goodness sake, Lisa! Youve always been a gossip but youve really outdone yourself this time.

What? Im just telling it as it is! Everyone at uni knows the story. Ninas sister used to stay at the girls halls until she found a job. Youve met her, you just forgot. Isabel. The petite one, fair, with the beauty mark on her cheek. You once said, These days, anorexia seems to prevail over reason. Remember her? That was before she could afford to eat. Nina helped, sure, but Isabels proud. Had to make it on her own. She scraped by til one of our mates got her a job at the surgery in your area. Never seen her? Doctor with a cough, like the barefoot shoemaker!

This isnt about me.

Oh, but in a way it is! Ill sort you and that cough out soon enough! Dont look at me like that! Im a doctor too, remembersome bits of the Hippocratic oath still stick.

Alright, colleague, perhaps later. So, what happened with Isabel? She moved into halls, then what? Still lives there?

No, eventually her mums fancy man ran for the hills, and Isa and her mum patched things up. But Isa refused to move back in.

Where is she now?

Her mum, all in a fit of remorse, handed her and Nina the keys to granddads old flat. Thats where they live now. Ninas about to move in with her fiancé, and Isa will have the place to herself. At least theres some justice in the world, eh? Oh, Nina! Who are you leaving us for?

Lisa dramatically sighed and reached for her pudding.

The little brasserie was snug and cheerful. The food was always spot on. Tanya was an expert in finding places like thiseven though shed hardly lived in Manchester a full ten years. Lisa frowned, trying to work out how long shed known her friend.

Whats up? You look gloomier than the sky over my entirely vacant mind, Tanya said, gobbling her food as if she were still a student, barely chewing.

Jealousy is a deadly sin, Elizabethjust so you know.

Thats not it!

Then what is?

I was trying to remember how long weve known each other. Ten years? Eleven?

Thirteen. Met you when I came up to study.

Lisa sighed.

Youre a diamond, Tanya, you know that? Lisa snorted indignantly and stuck her tongue out.

Youre hopeless! Tanya laughed. Whats that for?

For reminding me of my grand old age! Oh, lifes trundling past and nothing changes. Work, home, and little Val.

That last bitcare to say more?

Not much to say there. Makes no difference whether hes in my life or notno change at all. Were stuck.

Whats the reason?

Says its not the right moment to change anything.

Lisa stopped prodding her dessert and gave a sulky sigh, turning back into the little darling adored by everyone on their coursea livewire, the heart of any gathering, always ready with the right word. Oddly, despite the secrets everyone trusted her with, she kept her own soul locked away, sharing the key with just a select few. Tanya only got it by accident.

The circles Lisa hung about with didnt really accept girls like Tanyano surprise. She was from a single-parent family, always had her head in her books; clever, yes, but useful only for copying missed lectures or knocking out coursework. Most people thought that was her lot until Lisa took her under her wing.

No one ever figured out how it happenedTanya and Lisa never breathed a word. But those who knew Lisa suspected it wasnt just about studies, even if Tanya did help her out academically.

It was, all told, a simple and complicated story.

Lisa, popular and picky about her suitors, was hopelessly smitten with Max as soon as she met him. Everyone guessed what kind of man Max was but kept quiet. All except Lisa. She wasnt naïve shed seen plenty of her friends dabbling in things she wouldnt touch. Lisa always prized her health, and she believed Max did too.

He didnt use, true enoughbut he did supply others.

Lisas love-lives were usually dramatic, more fireworks than real feeling, but eventually she saw things for what they were and demanded an explanation from Max.

He gave her one, all rightbut in a nightclub, raising a glass on her birthday so she wouldnt spoil the mood.

Exactly what he mixed in her drink is anyones guess. Lisa managed to fumble her phone from her bag and call someone before everything went black. She learned the rest from Tanya, waking up in her friends spare room in the hallsTanya not even knowing where Lisa lived.

By some strange fate, Tanya had been ringing Lisa earlier, wanting to hand back the coursework shed written for her. Cash was scarce, so Tanya took whatever jobs she could find. Lisa hadnt picked up, but eventually phoned back. Tanya could barely make sense of what Lisa said except for the name of the club and that she felt ghastly.

Tanya quickly got the address, but getting Lisa away was another matter. It took everything she haddragging the slimmer but oddly heavy Lisa past the bouncers, heart pounding, knees like jelly. She feared shed be in trouble herself. Her mum had warned her about places like this.

Somehow, she managed. She spotted Max watching her with a smirk. For a split second, she thought about asking him for helpthen one look at his slippery smile stopped her. Better to manage herself.

A fellow student returning from her boyfriend helped Tanya sneak Lisa past security. Tanya breathed out in relief when Lisa curled up asleep on her bed.

Tanya tossed her battered blanket on the floor and tried to sleep. Eventually, she gave up and started revising for an examno sense wasting time.

Lisa came to in the late morning. Tanya, already missing three lectures, was sitting by her side.

Where am I? Lisa looked confused.

Student halls.

And who are you?

That worried Tanya. They didnt know each other well, but they werent strangers.

Im Tanya.

I dont remember you, Lisa said quietly, staring at the ceiling. Or myself. Just my name. How did I get here?

Tanya explained in fits and starts. Lisa then asked for her phone and rang her mum, listened to what she had to say, and then turned to Tanya.

Theyll be here soon. Dont tell them what happened.

Dont ask me that. They need to know.

Why?

Because theyre your parents. They love you, whether you get that or not. They can help. Can you deal with Max on your own? No! But your parents can. Theyll get you help too. Dont pretend otherwise. Theyre not bad people.

What are you on about? Lisa rubbed her temples, her head pounding.

If theyre good people, why cant you trust them?

I do trust them

Then tell them the truth. Youre their only child.

Im not their only one

Makes no odds. Each child is only given once to their parents. Or do you think there are spares? Lose one, never mind, another around the corner?

Are you quite sane?

Absolutely. I just think of what my mum would do if I asked someone to hide something like this from her.

What would she do?

Shed set the whole village abuzz, kick up all the fuss in the world, and probably find a way to turn back time if it would stop me hurting. My mum is gentleexcept where Im concerned.

Lisa listened so seriously that it made Tanya uncomfortable.

All at once, Tanya realised she didnt fear Lisa anymore. That dread had followed her since shed first walked into the classroomrealising she wasnt a misfit like at home, but something more alien in this city crowd whod never known what it was to pull up carrots or dig up potatoes on an allotment.

It was a saying her gran used to have:

If you can grow your own stew on your patch, love, I wont worry about you!

Little Tanya, busy weeding beside her gran, nodded solemnlyshe understood.

There was the carrot patch. Beets across the way. Potatoes over there, onions not doing well this year. She already understood a lot at five.

She knew what fatherless meant, even though her dad was around, living in the next village after the divorcebut he wanted nothing to do with her or her mum, more than content with the twin sons his new wife had given him. The boys, oddly the spitting image of Tanya, went to the same school. They didnt get close, but Tanya never wanted them to.

Her mum, Hope, was gentle but strong-willed, always doting on her, so much so the old folk sometimes scolded.

Youre too soft, Hope! Dont spoil the girl!

But Hope didnt listen. She worked at the dairy, kept the chickens, saved every penny she could, and dreamed her daughter might make something of herself one day.

They clung together and cried before Tanya went away to study.

Mum, how will I manage without you?

Youll cope! Would I let you go if I didnt believe in you, love? And we have no choice. Youre meant to be a doctor, darlingyouve got the brains, the heart. Ill help all I can. Not nearby, maybe, but always with you in spirit. Remember, you have a home. You have me. If things get tough, fight through. When you absolutely cant, you know where to come.

Tanya promised herself shed only return to her village with her medical degree. To fail her mum was unthinkable. The dream started back when her gran used to show her how to treat dolls with a bit of bandage. Thats when Tanya set her sights on medicineand shed never been one for giving up.

She threw herself into her studies, keeping her distance socially, careful not to trip on lifes tightrope.

Things changed after helping Lisa.

She handed Lisa over to her parents, told themroughlywhat had happened, and slipped away, hoping to make her final lesson of the day.

They didnt see each other for a monthLisa had been admitted to a private clinic by her parents. Their friendship from then on was founded on real trust and equality.

Lisas parties, full of posh friends at her parents house, never really suited Tanyabut with Lisa and Nina, her old classmate, Tanya felt at home. They were her first, and only, true friends here.

After university, Tanya was snapped up by one of Manchesters best hospitals. Hard work and talent paid offbut self-sufficiency was tough. She never got used to luxury; her first poky flat, in walking distance of the hospital, felt like a palace. She was delighted that she didnt have to wake at the crack of dawn just to catch the bus to her shift.

Hope, knowing Tanya was well, visited twice a year.

Im so proud of you, darling!

You should be proud of yourself, Mum! All because of you.

Dont be daft! I didnt take your exams. You did it all. Not many go that road aloneyou did.

How wrong you are, Mum! Knowing I had youthat kept me going. Otherwise, Id have sunk long ago!

Tanya puffed her cheeks, miming sinking to the bottom, and then shrieked with laughter as Hope tickled her in mock reproach.

Only her mum ever thought Tanya frivolous; most people said she was too serious for her own good.

Tanya, relax! Youre not at work, none of us are your patients! Lisa would hug her, kissing her on the nose. Youll die an old maid at this rate! Blokes hate the serious ones.

Oh, what is it men like then? Tanya dodged her friends advances.

Silly girls! Eyebrows arched, lips pouty, and no talk of the effects of alcohol on the body. They like girls with no lectures. Understood?

By now, Lisa was living with Val and saw herself as a love expert.

Tanya, however, worried about her friends relationship. There was nothing wrong with Val himselfrespectable, focused, driven. But he lived life step by step, by the book, no spark. Lisa, bit by bit, was growing duller too, unsure where her old joy had vanished.

Honestly, Tanya, nothing ever changes. It wont for years yet.

What makes you say that? Tanya poured fresh tea, relishing the aroma. All night on shift, dreaming of a cuppa. No time for anythingtwo ops, one after the other.

Lisa hovered her hand over the steaming mug, gazing out the window.

He says our life together should follow a planned scenario. Asks me not to rush things.

Does he let you see the script?

Not a chance! Just outlines the basics. Tanya, he doesnt want kids for another ten years.

Whys that?

Because only then, he says, will he be able to provide everything they need. A good school, trips abroad, all the extras. My son, he says, must play ice hockey and my daughterfigure skating and dance.

No room for alternatives, then? Tanya almost dropped her cup in surprise.

None. And, Im expected to give up work for a decade to focus on the kids. Beyond that, hes not suremaybe Ill go back to work, maybe not. Tanya, Im terrified. I feel suffocated by this endless planning. What am I supposed to do?

Youre asking me?

Well, is there anyone else here? Ninas lost in her happiness, and Ioh, Tanya, youre right, Im jealous! To the point of screaming. When I see the way she looks at her Martin, I want to cry.

Tanya sighed, shifted closer to Lisa and hugged her.

Come here, you big softie. Tanya wiped her tears and studied her eyes. Tell medo you love Val?

The pause, heavy between them, told Tanya more than words.

She was about to ask another question when her phone rang in her bag.

Lisas face clouded as she saw Tanyas expression.

What is it, Tanya?

Mum

Tanyas eyes darkened, stormy clouds replacing their usual blue.

Mums had a stroke. I need to go, Lisa.

Of course.

Apologise to Nina for metell her I cant make the wedding. And, one more thing

What is it?

Work is sorted, but I havent time to pack up my flat or things. Could you

Wait, Tanya, youre really planning to stay back there for good?

Is there an alternative?

Well, a carer? Or bring your mum here?

No, Lisa, that wont work. You know the saying, Home is where the heart is? I think its true. You have to be where youre most needed, and for me, thats beside my mum. Theres no debate. All thats left is sorting the details.

You decided so quickly, Tanya. Are you sure?

I have. Ill think about the details, but the decision is made. Its the right thing. Lisa, you see, you have to be with the ones you love. Look after them. Thats all that mattersdont you think?

I do

Then whats so surprising about my choice?

The way you did it. Throwing away everything youve achieved for all those years. Your mum wanted you to be a doctor, to have a career.

She did. And I did. But is that the most important thing in life, Lisa?

Tanya smiled softly, pulled her bag onto her arm, tucked several £20 notes under her cup and dashed out of the café.

Lisa watched her leave, lost in thought, tearsnow gentle onesspilling down her cheeks. The waiters, watching the beautiful, lost-in-thought woman, kept their distance, silently agreeing to let her have some peace.

Five years later, by the fresh-painted garden gate of a little house in Cumbria, a car would come to a stop and Tanya would step out onto the porch, shading her eyes from the July sun.

Sam! Theyre here!

Her broad-shouldered husband nodded and gently laid their sleeping son in his pushchair.

Hes out for the count.

Brilliant! Open the gateI’ll go and say hello to Lisa!

Bounding down the steps, Tanya kissed her drowsy mum, napping in her chair, and flung the gate open.

Welcome! Denis, park up inside!

Tanya, you need to be burned at the stake! Lisa, hoisting her dozing daughter, swept an arm round her friend.

What have I done now?

Youre a witch, clearly! How is it Im running to every beauty clinic in England with no luck, and you only get younger? Wheres the justice?

There isnt any! Youll find little enough of it in this life. Tanya took Lisas daughter and sized up her slightly stouter friend. So, whens the next one due?

December.

And?

A boy! Just what I hoped forgirl first, then a boy.

Perfect!

Not quitewait for it. My marvellous mother-in-law announced shes quitting work to look after the kids so I can keep operating! There are still saints in English villages! I love her, would you believe?

Of course. And how are your parents?

Mums poorly, Dads snowed under as always. The usual. But enough about me. What about you lot?

Tanya smiled, beckoned Lisa along, and drew back the hood from the pram.

Like this.

Inside, a chubby, peaceful boy slept sweetly on a duck-patterned blanket, the image of his mother.

Hes your double!

Mum says he looks like Sam.

How is she?

Alright. Shuffling about, baking pies. Tires quickly after last years heart attack, but were getting by.

Lisa lowered the pram cover, kissed her napping daughter, and whispered, Thank you, Tanya.

What for?

For everything. For that talk, remember? For showing me how much choices matter. Im sorry your mum fell ill butI know its wrong to sayIm grateful for how things turned out. If it hadnt, I might still be stuck with Val, thinking he was the only right choice. Id never have met Denis, never had Sophie, never been so happy. I didnt know it could be like this, Tanya. I thought this only happened in booksbut it turns out, no, you just have to take one more small step and happiness curls up beside you like an affectionate cat, and stays.

How long did you spend rehearsing that? Tanya grinned, dodging Lisas swishing hand. Oi! Watch it!

Youre awful, Tanya! Im pouring my heart out

And I know all about your heart. Tanya winked, heading to the front door. Go freshen up, or nip to the lake. Everythings ready. Ill put Sophie to bed, and when youre backlunch will be waiting.

Isnt this the life! Lisa stretched and twirled. Dont you miss hospital work, Tanya?

No time to miss it. Honestly, sometimes I do long for itthe order, the routine. But here Im truly needed, more than I ever was there. Ill admit I miss the operating room, but as for moving backIm not thinking about it for now. Everything thats mine is here. And Im right where I belong.

In the pram, Tanyas son stirred; Sophie woke and blinked, and time sparkled in the air, only pausing to catch the giggle of a child or the melody of three women sorting strawberries, their voices rising together in united song.

Rate article
Add a comment

;-) :| :x :twisted: :smile: :shock: :sad: :roll: :razz: :oops: :o :mrgreen: :lol: :idea: :grin: :evil: :cry: :cool: :arrow: :???: :?: :!:

The Decision
“I’m Leaving You,” the Husband Admitted Guiltily—But to His Surprise, His Wife Just Laughed Irene had a friend, Susan, who after divorce used to say, “I spent twenty years married to a ghost.” Back then, it sounded like an exaggeration. But when Andrew forgot their anniversary again—yet remembered the downstairs neighbour’s birthday, when he stopped noticing new haircuts but complimented the cashier’s “stylish bob,” when they stood side by side in recent family photos but looked like strangers on a bus—Irene understood: Susan was right. Beside her was a man physically present but emotionally absent. Sharing a bed, but not a life; calling her his wife, but treating her as a flatmate—polite, yet distant. Worst of all, she herself had faded into a shadow. She no longer expected her marriage to be more than a shared home and household chores. Until the day he said those fateful words. “I’m leaving you,” Andrew said, avoiding her gaze. Irene unexpectedly laughed—a tired, soft chuckle. All these years, she’d been… how to put it… a shoulder to cry on. When he had problems—he’d turn to her. Illness—her again. Friends didn’t appreciate his genius? Good old Irene. “Seriously?” she asked, sipping her evening tea. “And who’s the lucky one?” Andrew fidgeted. Forty-eight years old and blushing like a schoolboy at his first date. “Elaine. She understands my artistic soul.” Artistic soul—mind you, Andrew the plumber bought a guitar two years ago and still struggled with three chords. Irene put down her cup and looked him over. Bald patch, beer belly, perpetually dour face. Where was the man she’d married? “Right. So, how are we dividing the flat?” Andrew was taken aback by her matter-of-fact tone. “Are you not even upset?” “Why would I be?” She shrugged. “I’ve known for years I was living with a flatmate. Honestly, I’m curious how you’ll manage without me. Who’ll wash your socks, buy your pills?” Andrew’s eyes widened. He’d expected tears, hysterics, pleas. All he got was a business discussion about household chores. “Elaine…” he began, hesitantly. “How old is she?” interrupted Irene. “Young, attractive—you bet. And no real interest in marriage, am I right? Why settle down when you have a man for fun?” Andrew paled—how did she know her age? Irene got up, collecting the dishes. “Pick up your things after work tomorrow. Agreed?” She went to wash the cups, humming a tune. For the first time in years—humming! Andrew stood in the kitchen, feeling like an actor who’d forgotten his lines. Initially, Andrew was certain—it was just a short break. Like a holiday. He rented a one-bed across the road from Elaine—convenient!—and quickly filed for divorce, afraid he’d change his mind. “Have you finished the paperwork?” he’d call Irene weekly. “I’ve sorted the flat for now.” “Well done,” she’d reply calmly. “Carry on.” What else was there to say? You could unravel twenty years of marriage in two months, if you tried hard enough. Irene didn’t sit idle either. For the first time in years, she did what she wanted. She had loads of free time. Signed up for the gym. Bought a new dress. Dyed her hair auburn instead of “sensible brown.” Her husband always said auburn didn’t suit her. “Irene, have you lost your mind?” her friend Susan exclaimed. “He’ll be back! They all come crawling home after six months or a year.” “I don’t need him back,” Irene replied, gazing in the mirror. Really, what had tied them in recent years? Shared bills? Shared space? One bed, with their backs to each other? Love had gone—evaporated quietly, like water from an old pan. First drop by drop—when he stopped noticing her hair. Then a trickle—comparing her to other wives. Finally, boiled away to nothing. Andrew savoured freedom! Elaine wasn’t like Irene at all. She never nagged about scattered socks or housework, never reminded him to see the doctor. “Andrew, you’re so fascinating!” she’d say, hugging his neck. “Tell me more about your work. Can I wear your shirt? It’s so romantic!” He felt like the hero of a French film. Young lover, his own flat, no responsibilities. Bliss! “Are you free?” Elaine would ask. “Free as the breeze!” he’d laugh. Three months in, Andrew began to feel something was missing. Not Irene—no! Maybe stability. Elaine was wonderful, but unpredictable. Sometimes off with friends all weekend, or declaring she needed “space to think about their relationship.” Plus, she couldn’t cook. “Cooking’s not my thing—I’m an artiste!” Takeaway was a lifesaver, but Andrew often found himself craving Irene’s homemade dumplings. By Christmas, Elaine had a new “project.” She wanted to be a blogger. “Andrew, darling,” she purred, “I need a professional camera. Lighting. And this flat’s too dark for filming.” Money was running low—two flats, restaurants, gifts. And Elaine wanted more. But fate dealt the real blow in March. March brought the unimaginable. Andrew was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Late stage. Doctors spoke carefully: A year, maybe two—if lucky. He sat in the doctor’s office, listening to talk of chemo, surgeries, prognosis. The words hung heavy, like cigarette smoke that wouldn’t clear. “You’ll need support from loved ones,” said the doctor. “Treatment is tough—you can’t do it alone.” Loved ones? He had Elaine—beautiful, vivacious Elaine, dazzling at his side, chirping on about his artistic soul. He went to her place. His hands trembled—with fear, or rage. “Elaine, I need to tell you something.” “Andrew!” She burst out in her robe, hair wet. “Hang on—a face mask! Don’t look at me—frightful!” If only she saw his mask… “Elaine, sit down. It’s serious.” She perched, smiling—eyes wide, expecting a gift, a surprise. Proposal, perhaps? “I have cancer. Doctors say… not much time left.” Her smile melted like spilled ice cream. “What?! How? Is there treatment? Surgery?” “We’ll try. But no promises.” Elaine paled. Walked around, then sat again. “Andrew, that’s terrible,” her voice trembled—but not with sympathy. “What does it mean for us?” “I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “I thought we’d get through it together…” “Together?!” She jumped up, robe flying open. “I can’t! I’m too young! I’ve got my own life to live, not nurse you!” “Elaine.” “No!” She flailed, frantic. “I never signed up to be a carer! I’ve got plans, dreams! How am I meant to live?!” And then Andrew understood. She wasn’t leaving him. She’d never loved him. For her, he was just… a resource. Money, fun, stability. A sick man—bad investment, all loss. “Andrew, please,” she sobbed. “I can’t. Please understand—I’m not up to it.” “You’ll manage,” he said, calm. “Just not with me.” He got dressed and left. She didn’t try to stop him. Only dialled her friend, crying: “You won’t believe what he dumped on me!” Andrew was alone. Utterly alone. In his tiny flat, with his test results and a bottle of whisky. Andrew knocked on Irene’s door in November. Stood on the doorstep—gaunt, hair longer. Hospital pharmacy bag in hand. “Irene, may I come in?” She didn’t answer straight away. Watched him through the doorway as if he were a stranger. And in some way, he was—a man he could have become if he’d learned the value of family before illness. “Come in.” He sat at the table where he’d once announced their divorce. Only now, he had something different to say: “Elaine left straight after my diagnosis. Didn’t wait for surgery.” His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. “Said she’s too young to play the widow.” “I see,” Irene brewed the tea. Calm, routine. She set a cup before him. “What is it you want, Andrew?” “I’ve realised,” he stammered. “During months of treatment, alone. I’ve realised the happiness of having a true wife by your side. Not a playmate—a wife.” “And?” “I’m not asking to come back. Just for forgiveness.” Irene nodded. “All right. Forgiven.” “And, well,” Andrew swallowed. “Maybe sometimes you could visit? I’m not demanding, but… it’s scary alone.” Irene sipped her tea, silent for a long time. “Andrew, do you remember what you told me last year? That I was boring, my youth was gone, and I made you feel old.” “Irene—” “Wait.” She raised her hand. “Remember you said men our age need something new?” He dropped his gaze. “Well,” Irene stood, “I need something new too. For the first time in twenty years, I’m living for myself. And you know what? I’m enjoying it.” “But I’m ill.” “Andrew,” her voice was quiet, but firm. “You left when you were strong and well. You chose youth and passion over love and loyalty—now, when you’re weak and ill, you want me to be your carer?” “Irene, please.” “I’ll find you a good doctor. Give you a number for social services. But I won’t live your life for you.” She saw him to the door. “I’m not cruel, Andrew. I just finally realised: compassion doesn’t mean sacrificing myself again.” From her window, she watched him slowly cross the yard. And for the first time in a year, felt neither pain nor guilt—just a strange sense of relief.