Margaret set two cottage cheese pancakes on a plate in front of her husband and turned back to the stove to take the rest out of the frying pan. When she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Thomas just listlessly poking at his breakfast with a fork.
Whats wrong with you today? Eat up, or youll be late for work.
Thomas finished his pancakes, let out a long sigh, and pushed back his chair.
Dont forget your sandwiches, she said, handing him a paper-wrapped bundle.
After he left, Margaret got on with her usual chores around the house. Later, she got ready to pop out to the shops. On the stairs, she bumped into Fred from the second floor.
Tom at home by any chance? Wanted to see if hes up for a bit of a match.
What match now? Dont be daft, Fred. Margaret gave her neighbour a stern look.
Dont get the wrong end of the stick! he chuckled, brandishing a battered domino set. Was just meaning a game of dominoes in the courtyard. Victor and his missus have gone off to their allotment, so were one short.
Well, Toms at work. Im sure you know its Friday hes working. Margaret started down the stairs.
He’s found himself another job then? Blimey! Cant sit still, that one, should be enjoying his retirement. Fred grinned, but then caught the surprised look on Margarets face, shuffled awkwardly, and took a step down.
Wait a second! Margaret grabbed his sleeve. He never stopped working. Still at the factory, same as always.
Ah, well… Look, I best be off. Fred attempted to free himself.
Oh no, hang on! Is there something I dont know? Margaret followed Fred a couple of steps, grabbing his arm again.
Fred scratched his head. Alright. They let him go. Officially retired him, hes sixty-eight, after all. Happened a fortnight ago. Figured youd know. Sorry. I thought hed have told you. Well, there you are. So, where is he off to then?
Thats what Id like to know, Margaret muttered. Off every morning with his sandwiches, acting like nothings changed Just wait til hes home Ill have a proper word with him, see if he fancies himself a secret agent now! She let Fred go and headed back upstairs.
Margaret sat on the low stool in the hallway, mulling over where Thomas could be heading each day. She remembered how hed come home from work two weeks ago, claiming he was feeling under the weather and spent the whole weekend on the sofa, turned towards the wall. Shed fussed over him with lemon tea and broth. Come Monday, he was off to work as usual, and shed thought nothing of it. Todays poking at pancakes shouldve tipped her off.
Suddenly, Margaret stood up. Ive got to find him. The towns not that big. He could be down by the river with the anglers, or She grabbed her handbag and hurried out.
She wandered around the town, eyes peeled for him. He wasnt on the riverbank or in the park. She thought about checking the factory, but hed never go back theretoo stubbornand they wouldnt let him past the security gate anyway. Exhausted, Margaret finally headed home as the afternoon wore on. She slumped onto the sofa and closed her eyes.
What am I doing? Hell be home soon, she told herself, jumping up and bustling into the kitchen to get started on dinner. She didnt even remember she hadnt eaten herself all day.
She put potatoes on to boil and started frying some sausages. By six, everything was ready, just as it always was. She watched the hands of the wall clock and waited. The lock clicked. Margaret shot to her feet, then made herself sit, trying to seem calm.
Thomas came in slowly, avoiding her gaze, and dropped into the kitchen chair.
Youre home early, she tried to sound offhand, as if she didnt know. You look pale. Are you feeling alright?
Same as ever. Not early. He turned away.
Wash your hands. Ill get dinner on the table. She moved to get things ready.
Wait. Thomas reached out without looking at her. Im just tired, thats all. Going to have a lie-down. Ill eat later, stop fussing. At last, he looked her in the eyes and managed a little smile.
Fine. Dyou want a heart pill? You look worn out. Margaret noticed how heavily he rose, bracing himself against the table, shoulders hunched, shuffling away. She heard the old sofa groan under his weight.
She sat at the table, turning it all over in her mind. Theres nothing wrong with him being at home now. She knew the truthhe didnt have to pretend, didnt have to wander town in the heat or hide away. She could find him so much to do hed hardly get a breather. Her sister had been asking ages for them to visit the cottagealways plenty of jobs there, and mushrooms were coming soon Margaret perked up at the thought and went to check on him.
Thomas was lying on his side, eyes shut, one hand under his cheek and the other trailing nearly to the floor. Margaret moved to lift his armit seemed so heavy. It slipped straight from her fingers. When she tried, his body twitched ever so slightly, but he didnt wake.
Thomas! Her cry ended on a high note.
Margaret clapped her hand over her mouth as the realisation hit her.
She collapsed by the sofa, burying her face in his side and wept. When there were no tears left, she rose unsteadily. Vision blurred, she gently laid his arm along his body, as he liked to nap.
She staggered out the door, down a floor, and knocked on the neighbours door, forgetting about the bell. Fred opened the door in a vest and baggy tracksuit bottoms, and read her tear-stained face straight away.
Fred, Tom She couldnt get the words out, just pressed her face to his narrow chest.
Both of them made their way upstairs. Freds wife, Annie, scurried behind them.
Well need to call the ambulance, or a vehicle no, ambulance first, Annie said briskly, and hurried off to make the call.
Ah, Thomas. Three years younger than me, would you believe. Just goes to show. Fred shook his head.
He came in, said he was tired, was going to have a lie-down. Didnt even want dinner. I it was only a few minutes. I walked in and he was Margarets voice broke again.
He was a good man. Not old, not really. Couldnt take it, I suppose, being told he wasnt needed after all those years at the factory. I always said its rough only at first, then you get used to it. Fred murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Ambulance will be here soon. No point waiting in here. Come on, lets get you a glass of water in the kitchen, Annie said, wrapping an arm around Margarets shoulders.
How am I supposed to manage without him? Forty-eight years together… just like yesterday. Straight after he got back from National Service, we got married. Oh, what do I do She broke down again, swaying on the kitchen chair, tears coming in indistinct waves.
The doorbell rang. Fred let in two paramedics in navy uniforms, carrying a bright orange medical kit. They examined Thomas, filled out forms, left a number for the undertakers, and went on their way.
Margaret knelt at the side of the sofa, sobbing over her husband. His shirt was soaked with her tears. The undertakers came more than two hours later. She couldnt bear to watch them take him, so she hid in the kitchen and wept as Fred comforted her.
Thank you, Fred. Will you help? With the arrangements? Margarets eyes, unfocused, shifted between Fred and Annie.
Dont worry, well go to the funeral parlour together in the morning, get everything sorted. You pick out some clothes for him, what hed like to wear. After the parlour, well take them round. Funerals usually arent on Sundays, probably Monday. Shall we phone the children? Or will you?
Ill do it later, Margaret said, wiping her eyes.
What about a service? He was christened? Annie asked gently.
Tom never liked all that, Margaret mumbled.
Still, its only right. Ill go to the church in the morning, see if a blessing can be arranged, Annie insisted.
Margaret just shrugged, too numb to care.
The following days blurred together. After the funeral, the children went back to their cities. They asked Margaret to come stay, but she refused.
She wandered her empty flat, glancing at the old sofa. Though her head knew Thomas was gone, for days she still pictured him there, lying on his side, hand tucked under his cheek, just as hed always done. And his hand wouldnt slip or fall. Sometimes shed imagine him sitting up, asking, Did I sleep long?
Everything felt muddled. Margaret wasnt sure if it was her imagination or something more, but she swore she saw him. Feared she might be losing her mind.
Morning after morning, shed wake early, start to make breakfast and see him offcatch herself, remember, and start to cry. Her daughter rang, urging her to visit and get a change of scene. Margaret tried, stayed a week, but the silence of her own flat drew her back. When she returned, she no longer saw Thomas on the sofa.
In the evenings, Margaret would pull out old photo albums and talk to Thomas as she flipped through the pages.
Look, heres our wedding. And this is the one you sent from the army, and
She kept talking, not expecting an answer. The silence felt crushing, unbearable. Sometimes shed put the telly on, just low, so it felt like someone else was there with her. In the old photographs and memories, Thomas was young and very much alive. Always nearby.
