Bog? Margaret turned slowly from the stove where the potatoes for dinner sizzled.
This swamp fed your mother for twenty years while she was shuttling from doctor to doctor. Forgot?
What does my mother have to do with it? Dont you dare mention her!
And besides, Victor, while you were doing big business in the capital, I was here with your paralysed mum, changing her nappies, if you recall.
Victor stood in the doorway of their twobedroom council flat, a fresh suit hanging on his shoulders and a suitcase at his feet. Margaret hadnt seen him look so sleektrim, tan, scented with an expensive aftershavelike the man whod once arrived from the factory smelling of motor oil.
She remembered how theyd met: a night at the factorys workers club, him a young mechanic, her from the accounts department. He spun her round to A Million Red Roses, whispered nonsense into her ear, and later theyd had a modest weddingabout thirty guests, a bowl of oliveoil potato salad and a bottle of British sparkling wine. Her motherinlaw had wept with joy, hugging Margaret: Thank you, dear, for taming my Victor.
Tamed. Theyd spent twentytwo years together, raised a daughter, Lily. Lily was now at medical school, living on a scholarship and her mothers parttime work. Victor hadnt sent any money for three years; he said he was investing everything in business. Margaret never quite understood what that meant. One week it was a garage, the next a haulage firm. Nothing ever took off.
You just dont get it, Victor said, lighting a cigarette on the landing. Sergey offered me a job in London. Hes got a chain of car washes and wants me to run one. Hell rent a flat to start.
Are you going alone? Margaret wiped her hands on her apron, her fingers trembling yet her voice steady.
Not alone. Victor glanced away. With Alison. She she gets me. She believes in me.
Alison. Margaret had heard of her for the past three months, catching glimpses of sweetnote messages on Victors phone when he was in the shower: Love, Bunny, Miss you. Twentyeight years of pet names. Alison worked as a manager at a car dealership where Victor had been checking cars for creditcredit that Margaret was still repaying from her modest teachers salary.
And Lily? Margaret asked. Shell graduate next year.
Shell grow up, shell understand. I cant live like this any longer. Im fortyfive, Margaret. Im still young. I can still change things.
Margaret walked to the window. In the courtyard, neighbour Zoe was hanging laundry. She saw Margaret at the window and waved. Zoe knew everythingabout Alison, about Victor only coming home at night for the past six months. Shed brought pies, saying, Hang in there, Margaret.
Remember, Margaret said quietly, when Lily was five and fell ill with pneumonia? Doctors were baffled. You stayed at work so you could earn money for her medicine, while I kept vigil by her bedside. You said, Were a family, Margaret. Well get through this.
That was ages ago.
Fifteen years, or perhaps when your mother suffered a stroke? Who kept vigil at the hospital, turned her every two hours to avoid bedsores? I did. You, meanwhile, kept finding excuseswork, deals. What deals? You were already chasing some new venture.
Victor stubbed out his cigarette on the new windowsill that had been fitted just last month, a piece Margaret had saved for herself.
You always cling to the bad, he snapped, irritated. Do you remember the good? Like when I took you to the sea?
Ten years ago, to Brighton, for a week.
It was never enough!
Margaret turned back to him, tears glistening but held back. She would not let them fall.
You know what, Victor? Go. Go to your Alison. But Ill tell you this: I watched your mother until the very end. For two years I fed her from a spoon, bathed her, gave her medicine. Where were you? Earning? What kind of earnings, Victor? You havent held a proper job in five years. All you ever dreamed of was getting rich.
I tried! I tried for the family!
For the family? Margaret smiled wryly. Lily works night shifts as a nurse to afford textbooks. Because her father chased the dream of being a businessman. I took two teaching jobs and now tutor on the side. For whom did you try?
Victors hands clenched around his suitcase handle.
And the funniest part, Margaret continued, your mother, on her deathbed, said to me, Forgive him, dear. Hes always been weak. Thank you for enduring. I didnt understand then. Now I do.
Dont you dare! Victor erupted. Dont call me weak! Im suffocating in this flat, in this town, with you! Youll bury me with your righteousness!
My righteousness? Margaret laughed, dry and sharp. All these years Ive been silent. Silent when you came home drunk. Silent when money vanished from our hidden stash for your latest project. Silent while you filled the house with strangers perfume, hoping youd come to your senses. Family, right?
She walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a folder.
Whats this?
Divorce papers. I prepared them a month ago. I was waiting for you or me to sign. Youre the first to take the stepwell done. Sign.
Victor stared at the documents, stunned.
You you knew?
Im not a fool, Victor. I gave you chances, and myself a chance to be sure I wasnt wrong. I wasnt.
The flat he began.
The flat is mine. It was in my mothers name, inherited by me. Youre on the tenancy, but you have no ownership. You could fight it in court, but youve had no official employment for three years. Will you pay child support to Lily?
Shes an adult
Shes a fulltime student. The lawSection85 of the Family Actcovers that.
Victor grabbed a pen and, with a sweeping motion, signed. He tossed the folder onto the nightstand.
Anything else? Satisfied? After twentytwo years of pulling the cats tail?
Margaret looked at him, grey at the temples, lines around the eyes. Once a beloved partner, now a stranger.
Not the cats tail, Victor. We have a wonderful daughtersmart, kind, hardworking. Shes my pride, she said with a sad smile. There were good times too. You just went the wrong way, or perhaps you were always that way and I never saw it.
Victor hoisted his suitcase and lingered in the doorway.
Youll regret it. Youll be left alone.
I wont be alone. Lily has a job, friends. And you know what? Ill finally sign up for dancing. Ive always wanted to learn the tango. You laughed, saying cows cant tango. Well see.
He slammed the door. Margaret stood in silence, then shuffled to the kitchen. The potatoes were burnt. She tossed the pan into the sink, opened the window to let fresh air in.
The phone rang. Lilys voice.
Mum, are you alright? Zoe called, said dad left with his suitcase.
Im fine, love. Will you be home for dinner?
Mum are you crying?
No, Margaret replied, genuinely dry. Im chopping onions, making a salad.
Im on my way, straight after my shift.
No, Lily. You have your exam tomorrow.
Mum, stop worrying. Im coming. And Mum I love you. Youre the strongest person I know.
Margaret hung up, reached into the fridge, pulled out a bottle of winea gift for Teachers Day shed saved for a special occasion. She poured half a glass, lifted it to the window where the setting sun gilded the rooftops.
To a new life, she whispered to herself.
Below, a taxi door clanged. Victor loaded his suitcase, a young blonde waved from the car. Alison. Margaret had seen her a couple of times at the dealershipnot much to note, just a fresh face.
Zoe shouted from the courtyard:
Margaret! Ive got a pie for you! With cabbage, just how you like it!
Margaret smiled, the first genuine smile in months. On the table lay the divorce papers, next to them a bunch of keys Victor had left. She took the keys, weighed them in her palm.
Tomorrow shed change the locks. Tomorrow shed sign up for dance classes. Perhaps shed finally get that bob haircut shed been dreaming of at the salon.
Tonight shed sip wine with Zoe, eat the pie, and not think about the road ahead. Because ahead was lifeher lifeno longer looking back at the man who had betrayed her.
The phone rang again, an unknown number.
Margaret Thompson? This is the deans office at the medical school. Your daughter has been awarded a named scholarship. Congratulations! Lily, youre our pride!
A tear finally slipped down Margarets cheekthis time, a good tear.
