Victor Peterson ushered his new wife into the house, and his jaw dropped at the price she demanded the offers scattered like birds. Twenty thousand for a consultation? Are you out of your mind?!
The renovation adviser, a young woman in a smart suit, calmly gathered her papers.
Those are the standard rates. If they dont suit you, feel free to walk elsewhere.
Ill be walking, thank you! This is a sham! Emma snatched her bag and headed for the door. What a ripoff!
She burst out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Outside, a biting October drizzle soaked the streets. Emma pulled out her phone and dialed her father.
Dad, it didnt go well. The adviser quoted astronomical sums. Im going to have to sort the repairs myself.
Victors voice sounded unusually upbeat. Dont worry, love. Ive met someone who can help.
Someone? Who?
Come over tonight. Ill introduce you.
Dad
He hung up before she could protest. Emma stood in the rain, feeling a chill settle deep inside. Someone. It had been a year and a half since Mum passed. Had Dad already moved on?
That evening Emma took the lift to the fifth floor of Victors flat and knocked. Victor, sporting a crisp tie and an ironed shirt, opened the door. He was sixtytwo but looked more like a spry fiftyfive.
Emma, come in! Ill introduce you to Alice!
From the kitchen emerged a tall, slender woman in a sleek dress, hair bobbed to her shoulders, makeup bright enough to be seen from the street. She must have been in her midthirties.
Hello, Emma! she said, extending a hand. Im Alice. Lovely to meet you.
Emma shook the hand mechanically. The nails were long and polished to a frosty glitter.
Nice to meet you, Emma replied.
Victor hustled them both. Alice, have a seat, love. Emma, you too! Ill get the tea.
Alice settled on the sofa, crossing her legs. Emma perched opposite, eyeing the newcomer.
Your father talks about you all the time, Alice began. He says youre a clever one. Do you work in a bank?
Yep, Emma answered shortly.
Brilliant! I used to work in a bank myself, back in the day. Then I moved on to other things.
What kind of things? Emma asked.
Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that, Alice waved her hand. You know how it is.
Emma nodded, though she didnt quite follow. At forty shed spent her whole career at the same firm, climbing the corporate ladder step by step.
Victor returned with tea, biscuits, and a jar of homemade jam, bustling like a groom on his wedding day.
Help yourselves! Emma, have a taste of the jam! Alice made it herself!
Emma bit into a biscuit dry and flavourless. Alice sipped her tea with a practiced smile.
Victor, love, wheres the sugar? I cant have tea without it!
Just a sec! Victor darted to the kitchen.
Emma watched her father, who had always been stoic and reserved, now darting about, eyes glued to Alice.
Dad, can we talk? she asked when he returned with the sugar bowl.
Of course! Whats on your mind?
Just us, alone.
Victor hesitated, glanced at Alice, who rose gracefully.
No problem, Victor. Ill pop into the bathroom and freshen up.
She swayed out, hips swaying. Emma followed her gaze, then turned back to Victor.
Dad, whats going on?
What?
This woman. Who is she?
Emma, I was going to tell you Alice and I have been seeing each other for three months now.
Three months? And you never mentioned a word!
I didnt want to upset you. I thought Id wait until things were serious.
How serious?
Victor cleared his throat, adjusted his tie.
Were getting married.
Emmas breath hitched.
Marrying? Youve known Alice only three months!
I know, but Im not a teenager any more. Im sixtytwo. I know what I want.
And what do you want? A young wife?
Emma! Victor snapped. Dont say that! Alice is a good person!
Good, Emma repeated. How old is she?
Thirtyeight.
So shes twentyfour years younger! Does that not seem odd?
No! Love doesnt count the years!
Emma closed her eyes, imagining her late mothers gentle smile. Her father seemed to have fallen headoverheels like a schoolboy.
Dad, you realize its barely a year and a half since Mum died, right?
Exactly a year and a half, Emma. I was lonely. Then I met Alice. She understood me, supported me.
Where did you meet?
In the park. I was out for a walk, she was, we struck up a conversation, and it just happened.
Emma nodded. Classic romance.
Alice returned from the bathroom, scented with perfume.
So, did you have a chat? she asked, plopping down beside Victor and laying a hand on his shoulder.
Enough, Emma said, standing. I have to go. Im up early tomorrow.
Victor leapt up. Hold on, Emma! One more thing Alice is moving in next week.
Emma froze at the doorway.
Here? Into this flat?
Yes. Where else?
But dad, this is Mums flat yours and Mums
It was Mums, now its mine. And Alices.
Emma slipped out without saying goodbye, the rain still drizzling down. On the train home she felt a storm brewing inside her. Her father was about to marry a woman half his age whod only been in his life for three months.
She called her brother Andrew, who lived in Manchester and visited only occasionally.
Andy, did you hear Dads got a new lady?
Yes, I heard about Alice.
And youre okay with that?
Emma, what can I say? Hes an adult. He has a right to his own life.
But shes after his money!
What money? Hes on a pension and this flat. No other assets.
The flat is threebedroom, central London! Its worth a decent sum!
So what? Shes marrying him, not the flat.
Andy, are you serious?
Andrew sighed. Emma, stop being dramatic. Lets see how it plays out.
Emma slammed the phone. Lets see. Everyone else acted calm while she felt a kettle of emotions boiling.
She thought of Mum Eleanor, kindhearted, caring, a nurse whod spent thirtyfive years with Victor. A year ago shed succumbed to cancer. Emma had cared for her to the very end, Victor had wept by her side.
Now a new, younger replacement had appeared. Emma clenched her fists. She wasnt going to let Alice take her fathers home.
The following week Victor called.
Emma, come over Saturday. Alice is moving, and Id like you to be there.
Why?
So you can get to know her better. Become friends!
Emma drove over, not because she wanted friendship, but to keep an eye on Alice.
The flat was a sea of boxes and suitcases. Alice barked orders at her father:
Victor, that goes in the bedroom! No, not there! Careful, thats fragile!
Victor hauled boxes, sweating, while Emma slipped past unnoticed.
Hello, Emma said.
Alice turned, smiling brightly. Oh, Emma! Sorry, didnt see you. Victor, look, the daughters finally here! You said she wasnt coming!
Victor wiped his forehead. Emma, could you lend a hand? Theres a lot of stuff!
Emma started unpacking in silence. In one box she found fine china with gold rims; in another, silk sheets; in a third, rows of perfume bottles.
Alice, is all this yours? Emma asked.
Of course! And whose else could it be? Alice tossed dresses out of her bag, hanging them in the wardrobe. Victor, clear out half the closet! No, the whole thing! I have tons of clothes!
Victor nodded obediently. Emma watched him pull his own shirts and trousers out of the wardrobe, folding them into a box to make room for Alices gowns, blouses, skirts.
Dad, where will you put your things? Emma asked.
In the spare wardrobe in the hall. Ill manage.
Alice, I need space for my shoes too! she shouted from the hallway. All you have are my old boots! Toss them!
Theyre my boots! Emma protested. I left them here!
Oh, sorry! I didnt know. Take them back then! Alice peered out. Theres no room!
Emma bit back a sigh. She was watching her fathers home being turned into a boutique.
Dad, can we talk? she said quietly.
Emma, later! Look at all this work!
No, now.
Victor sighed, stepped onto the landing with their daughter.
What? he asked.
You see what shes doing? Shes kicking out your stuff, commanding the place!
Its just a woman settling in, love, Victor replied. Shes got a right to make it comfortable.
On your dime!
Its her home now!
Its your home! It was yours and Mums!
It was Mums, now its Alices.
Emma turned and bolted down the stairs. Victor called after her, but she didnt look back. She burst into tears at home, the first time in ages. Her mother was gone, her father seemed to be losing his mind, and Alice was taking over the flat.
She phoned Andrew again.
What do you want to do? he asked.
I dont know! Stop it!
Emma, Dad is an adult. He can decide.
Shes using him!
Maybe she loves him. How would you know?
I know! I feel it!
Feelings arent evidence.
Emma hung up. Andrew was no help.
A week later Victor called again.
Emma, come over for dinner. Alice is making your favourite!
Whats my favourite?
Chicken and chips, of course.
Emma hated chicken and chips; she preferred fish. Apparently Victor had forgotten.
She arrived to find Alice in an apron, beaming.
Emma, sit down! Food will be ready in a jiffy! she announced.
On the table sat a steaming chicken with chips, plus salad, bread, and a jug of compote.
Help yourself! Alice piled a massive portion onto Victors plate. Victor, eat up! I made this especially for you!
Victor smiled, tucking in. Emma stabbed at a potato with her fork.
Not to your taste? Alice asked.
Its fine. Im just not hungry, Emma replied.
You should have come hungry! Ive put real effort in! Alice pouted.
Victor tried to smooth things over. Alice, dont be upset. Emmas work is stressful, shes tired.
I understand, I understand, Alice waved her hand. Anyway, Victor, Ive been thinking. We need to renovate.
Renovate? Victor raised an eyebrow. Why?
So the place looks modern! The wallpaper is peeling, the parquet squeaks. We should replace everything!
But thats pricey
So what? You dont want your wife living in a dump?
Victor looked uneasy.
We could get a loan! Alice exclaimed. Im sixtytwo, wholl give me a loan?
Theyll if we try. Or we could rent out a room the lounge, perhaps and live in the other two.
Rent a room? In a threebedroom flat? Emma gasped.
Whats wrong with that? Money is never a bad thing! Alice turned to Emma. Extra cash is always good!
Its insane! Emma shouted.
Why? Lots of people do it! Alice replied.
Dad, are you serious about this? Emma asked, eyes on Victor.
Victor lowered his head. Well I suppose we could think about it
What are we thinking? This is madness! Emma snapped.
Emma, stay out of it, Victor whispered. Its not your business.
Emma stood frozen. It felt as if the flat, the place shed grown up in, was suddenly not hers.
Fine, she said. If its not my problem, Ill leave.
She walked out, slamming the door.
She called Andrew again, venting.
Andy, say something!
What can I say? Dads an adult. If he wants to renovate and rent a room, thats his choice.
But thats absurd!
Absurd is his decision.
Emma hung up, feeling useless.
A month slipped by. Emma rarely visited, and Victors calls became sparse. One day she got a short text: Emma, how are you?
Fine, she replied.
Later Victor called, his voice hoarse.
Emma, can I come over?
Of course, Dad. Come whenever.
Victor arrived that evening, gaunt and thinner than before, sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea in silence.
Dad, whats wrong?
Just tired.
Tired of what?
Everything, he said, setting his cup down. Emma, I think I made a mistake.
With Alice?
Yes. She isnt what she seemed.
Tell me.
Victor sighed. Shes constantly demanding. New dress, restaurant, renovation. I took a loan of ten thousand pounds for the work, but she says its not enough. She wants another twenty.
Twenty thousand pounds? For what?
For new furniture. She wants the old stuff tossed and brandnew pieces bought.
The old stuff is fine!
I know, but she screams that Im stingy, that I dont love her.
Emma stayed quiet.
She also wants a car, Victor continued. She says the bus is inconvenient. I told her I have no money. She suggested we sell the flat, buy a smaller one, and use the surplus for a car.
Sell the flat?! Emma leapt up. Dad, do you realise what shes doing? Shes draining you dry!
I understand now. Its too late.
Why too late? Divorce!
How? Were married
Emma sank into a chair. They were legally married. When?
A week ago. She insisted we make it official because we were living together.
Dad
Im a fool, Emma. I thought Id found love, but I found trouble.
Emma took his hand. Dad, we can fix this. Divorce, kick her out.
But she now has a legal claim to the flat. Were married.
She doesnt own it if it was yours before the marriage!
It was but I dont know how to prove it
Theres paperwork! The title deed!
Victor nodded. Probably Emma, help me. I cant do it alone.
Ill help, Dad. I promise.
Emma started looking for a solicitor. The lawyer explained that the flat would stay Victors if they could prove it was his sole property before the marriage, and the title deeds were still in order.
Emma told Victor, who mustered the courage to speak with Alice.
Alice threw a dramatic scene. She cried, accused Victor of being cheap, heartless, a betrayer.
Ive devoted my life to you! she wailed. You cant throw me out!
Alice, weve only been married a month
And what? A month is still time! I have rights!
No, you dont, Victor said firmly. The flat is mine. It will remain mine.
Alice fell silent, wiped her tears, and stared at him coldly.
Fine. Im leaving then. But youll have to repay the loan yourself.
I will.
And finish the renovation yourself.
I will.
Alice gathered her belongings and walked out. Victor sat at the kitchen table, staring into emptiness.
Emma returned that evening, finding her father still there.
Dad, are you just going to sit there?
Just thinking.
About what?
How I was such a fool, how I lost my head.
Emma sat beside him and hugged his shoulders. Youre not a fool. You were lonely. You missed Mum.
I missed her so much I lost my mind, Victor admitted. But now I get it. No one can replace Nina. No one. Better to be alone than with the wrong person.
Emma leaned into him. Youre not alone. Im here. Andrew, the grandchildren.
Victor smiled. Thanks, darling. For everything. For not turning my back.
Im your daughter. Its my duty.
They sipped tea together. Later Emma helped Victor clear out the leftover items Alice had left dresses, shoes, perfume bottles.
Whats the point of these? Victor mused. Just reminders of a foolish phase.
The divorce was processed quickly. Alice didnt fight shed realized the flat wouldnt be hers. She disappeared, rarely calling.
Victor slipped back into his regular routine strolling in HydePark, reading, watching the evening news. Emma visited once a week, bringing meals and tidying up.
And every spring Victor would sit on his backgarden bench, watching the roses bloom, content that love, at last, was simply the quiet peace of home.
