It’s your own fault, Mum, Emily said, stopping halfway to the door.
Anne was frying mince patties when the bell rang. She slipped out of the kitchen, apron still on.
Mom, let me get it, her daughter called from the hallway. Ill open.
Alright, I didnt expect anyone, Anne replied.
Why are you still there? Go on, finish your patties, Emily snapped, glancing back at her mother.
What do you mean your own? I bought the mince already
Mom, shut the door, Emily rolled her eyes.
Fine, Ill close it, Anne said, returning to the kitchen and pulling the door shut just enough to let a draft in. She switched off the gas, slipped off her apron and left the room.
In the hallway Emily was pulling on her coat. Beside her stood Ian, a friend of Sarahs, eyes glued to her.
Hello, Ian. Where are you off to? Stay for dinner, Anne called from the kitchen.
Good evening, Ian smiled, looking at Sarah.
Were in a hurry, she replied, not meeting her mothers gaze.
Maybe youll stay after all? Everythings ready, Anne repeated.
Ian fell silent.
No! Emily barked. Were going. She took Ian by the arm and opened the front door. Mum, could you close it?
Anne reached for the door but left a sliver ajar, listening to voices outside.
Why are you so harsh? It smells delicious, I wouldnt mind a patty, someone said.
Lets pop into a café. Im fed up with your patties, Emily muttered.
Your mothers patties are the best. I could eat them every day, Ian replied.
Sarahs reply was lost on Anne as the voices on the stairwell faded.
Anne finally shut the door fully and went to the living room where Brian was watching television.
Brian, lets have dinner while its still hot, she said.
Right, lets go. He rose, passed Anne, and sat at the table.
Whats on tonight? he asked briskly.
Rice with mince patties and a salad, Anne announced, lifting the pan.
Ive told you a dozen times I dont like fried patties, Brian grumbled.
I added a splash of water, theyre almost steamed, Anne said, holding the lid.
Fine, just this once, he sighed. But thats the last time.
At our age, losing weight isnt healthy, Anne reminded, placing a plate of rice and patties in front of him.
What age is that? Im only fiftyseven. Its a prime age for a man, Brian retorted, spearing a patty and taking a bite.
Are you all conspiring against me? Emily shouted, refusing to eat. Im done cooking if you keep this up. Think the café will feed you better?
Then dont cook. You could lose a few pounds yourself; you wont fit through the door any more, Brian finished his patty and reached for another.
Are you saying Im fat? Ive spent ages trying to look good for younew jeans, a leather jacket, a baseball cap, even shaved my head. Who am I trying to impress? Certainly not you, Anne said, hurt.
Just let me eat in peace, Brian muttered, pushing his fork into the rice but never bringing it to his mouth. Pass the ketchup.
Anne fetched a jar of ketchup, slammed it on the table, and left the kitchen without touching her own plate. The dinner on her dish stayed untouched.
She retreated to Emilys room, slumped onto the sofa, tears welling up.
Everything I do, I do for them, and I get no thanks. Brian flirts with younger women. Im the fat one. My daughter looks at me like Im a servant. If I retire, will they mock me? Id still work if they didnt cut my hours. Experienced staff arent needed, they want fresh faces. I get up early just to make breakfast, yet I never have a moment to rest. Im to blame for letting things go wrong. Theyve all settled on my neck and are riding off. The tears streamed down her cheeks. She swallowed a sob, wiped her face with her palms, and forced a smile.
She had always believed her family was decent not perfect, but decent. Emily was doing well at university, Brian didnt drink or smoke, the house was tidy, the food was good. What more could they want?
Anne examined herself in the wardrobe mirror. Yes, Ive put on a few pounds, but Im not that heavy. My cheeks still hide the wrinkles. Ive always loved food, I cook well, yet it seems they dont need it any more. When I was employed I styled hair, curled it. Now I just tie a bun at the back so it doesnt get in the way. Do I really need to wear heels and fuss over my hair? Maybe I should lose a bit, perhaps even dye my hair. She sat back on the bed, lost in thought.
The next morning she stayed in bed longer than usual, pretending to be asleep. Im retired, I can sleep in a bit. Let them make their own breakfast, she thought.
The alarm finally buzzed. She shifted and faced the wall.
Are you ill? Brian asked, his tone lacking any sympathy.
Yeah, Anne answered, burying her face in the duvet.
Mom, are you sick? Emily entered the room.
Just go and have breakfast yourselves, Anne croaked from under the covers.
Emily huffed and headed to the kitchen. Soon the kettle whistled, the fridge door slammed, and muffled voices rose from the kitchen. Anne kept herself under the blanket, playing the sick role.
Brian drifted in, his expensive cologne lingeringa scent Anne had bought for him years ago. He and Emily left one after another, and silence settled. Anne pulled the blanket back, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
An hour later she awoke, stretched, and shuffled to the kitchen. Dirty mugs lay in the sink, crumbs dotted the table. She considered cleaning but thought, Im not a servant. She stepped into the bathroom, took a quick shower, then called an old school friend.
Hey, Ellie! How are you? Not too bored being a pensioner? Ellies voice was bright and unchanged.
Anne confessed she missed getting out, that she hadnt visited her parents grave in ages, and wondered if she could stay with Ellie for a while.
Of course, come over any time, Ellie replied. When will you be here?
Right now, Im heading to the station, Anne said.
Great, Ill get the pies in the oven, Ellie laughed.
Anne packed a small bag for a few days, swept the crumbs aside, and left a note on the kitchen table saying shed be at her friends house.
On the way to the station she hesitated. Should I really run away? They never appreciate my effort. She decided, If I cant get a ticket, Ill return. Tickets were available; a line formed at the bus stop. She sighed and took her place at the end.
Ellie greeted her with a hug, and they shared tea and warm pies, talking endlessly.
Tell me what happened, Ellie urged.
Anne poured out everything, and Ellie listened, Its good to have a break. Turn off your phone for a while.
Is that too extreme? Anne asked.
Just right, Ellie replied. Tomorrow well go to a salon, give you a new look. Valentine works there remember her from school? Shes become popular now. Well shop, make you look stunning, and your husband will be jealous.
That night Anne tossed and turned, wondering, Are they mad at me or happy?
Valentine greeted them warmly, seated Anne, and began trimming and colouring her hair and eyebrows. The salons lights buzzed, and Anne nearly fell asleep. Valentine insisted on makeup; Anne wanted to quit, but Ellie coaxed her to see it through.
When the mirror finally reflected her, Anne barely recognized herselfa younger, striking version. Valentine was already arranging a manicure.
No, thats enough for today. I cant take any more, Anne pleaded.
Alright, well book you for eightmorning. Dont be late, Valentine said sternly.
Ellie exclaimed, Look at you! Who would have thought? They left the salon, and Ellie suggested a shop.
Ill go another time, Anne protested.
No, lets go. Beauty takes sacrifice, Ellie insisted, dragging Anne into the shopping centre.
Anne emerged wearing loosefit trousers, a light knit top, and a sandcoloured cardigan. She felt pleased despite the fatigue.
She carried bags with a new dress, a jacket, and a box of shoes. For the first time in years she felt youthful, confident, even a little slimmer. She thanked Ellie for urging the change.
Outside Ellies house a tall man with white hair and dark moustache, untouched by age, approached.
Hello, ladies, he said, admiring Anne. You look smashing.
Anne stared at Ellie, bewildered.
You dont recognise me? Its Paul Jones, Ellie whispered.
Paul? Anne asked.
Yes, the man confirmed. He was a former classmate, once skinny and unremarkable at school.
Ellie suggested, Lets go to my place, celebrate your makeover. Weve got a bottle of wine.
They sat together, sipping wine, reminiscing about school. Anne blushed, half from the wine, half from Pauls lingering gaze.
Hes still in love with you, Ellie said as Paul left the room.
Dont be ridiculous, Anne muttered. Its been years.
You look like someone you could fall for again, Ellie reassured.
Is he still living nearby? Anne asked, changing the subject.
No, hes retired from the army, a former colonel. He returned two years ago after a serious injury. His wife left him, but hes learned to walk again, though he limps if he walks a lot. Take your time, think it over, Ellie advised.
Im married, Anne protested.
That night she decided to return home, but Ellie wouldnt let her leave.
Just arrived and youre going? Show some backbone. Nothing will happen to you. Stay a week, enjoy yourself. By the way, Paul got theatre tickets. When was the last time you went to the theatre?
At the youth theatre for the Christmas play with Ellie, Anne replied.
Ellie teased, The youth theatre Christmas lets show off that new dress.
Three days later Anne finally turned on her phone.
Mum, where are you? Dads in hospital! Come quickly, Sarah called.
Annes heart lurched. She began to pack. Paul drove her to the station.
Anne, if you need anything, Im here. Dont hesitate, he said.
Thanks, Paul.
On the bus she called Sarah. The daughter explained that she was shocked by her mothers sudden disappearance, having thought shed be back the next day.
What about Dad? Anne asked.
The truth is hes been unfaithful. I saw him leaving the neighbours flat several times. He never came home after you left. Yesterday his other wifes husband came back, arguing loudly. He broke two ribs, but thats nothing. He also had a brain haemorrhage. The ambulance arrived just in time, Sarah said, pausing. Hes stable now.
Anne listened, stunned, and realized she didnt want to leave. She made it home by evening, though it was too late for the hospital.
Mum, youve changed so much. I barely recognise you, Sarah said, her tone now respectful. She stayed with Anne all evening, sharing news.
I was scared you wouldnt return, that youd found someone else.
I didnt find anyone. I just wanted to teach you a lesson. You stopped seeing me as a person.
Sorry, Mum, but youre to blame. You retired, stopped looking after yourself, turned into an old woman. Do you think Dad will be jealous? Will you forgive him? Sarah jabbered.
Anne looked around the room, feeling the comfort of home. Everything was familiar.
The next morning she rose early, made chicken broth, and drove to the hospital. Brian looked older, his beard now speckled with grey. Seeing Anne, he wept and begged forgiveness. She fed him soup with a spoon.
Two weeks later Brian was discharged. As they left the taxi, a couple passed by. Brian flinched, turning away. The woman avoided his gaze. Anne recognised her as his rivala slender, redhaired young woman. Brian slumped, his shoulders hunched, trying to disappear.
Are you staying? he asked at home.
Am I not thin enough? I havent lost weight, Anne replied brightly.
I asked for forgiveness. I was a fool. Fry those patties, will you? I miss your cooking, he pleaded.
Anne fried the patties and served a tasty meal.
It smells wonderful! Sarah, now back from university, inhaled.
They sat together at the table as they used to, when Sarah was still in school and Brian never criticised Annes cooking. Anne felt a warm sense of belonging, grateful that her family was together, alive, and mostly healthy, and that she still mattered.
Family life is never flawless. Age brings changes; the body weakens, but the spirit can stay youthful. Accepting that is hard, yet essential. Each person learns their own lesson, and the greatest truth is that they face it together. You cannot swap the horse at the crossing; you must stay in the saddle while the ride continues.
A good wife, a loving homewhat more does a person need to greet old age with peace?
