Arrived Home Early
Are you at the bus stop? Jamess voice leapt to a high pitch. Right now? Why didnt you let me know? We agreed on Thursday!
I wanted to surprise you, Sophie frowned. James, arent you happy? Im exhausted, absolutely shattered. Come out and help!
Wait! he suddenly shouted. Dont come here. Well, I mean, do, but… Soph, listen, the house is absolutely bare. I finished off everything yesterday. Tell you what: could you pop into the twenty-four-hour shop? The one just around the corner. Get some meat, proper beef if you can.
The heavy bag pulled her shoulder so much that Soph winced with pain. Her lower backthe ache shed become all too familiar with over the past two monthsflared all the way down her spine. She carefully placed her shopping on the chipped tarmac at the bus stop, exhaling, her palm pressed protectively to the top of her bump.
The baby kicked in protest. Six months along was no joke, especially when you decided to surprise your husband by coming home from your parents three days early.
Shed missed him so much that shed spent the last hundred miles on the coach counting the lamp posts. She wondered what James was up to. He probably didnt even know she was only ten minutes from home.
The walk to their flat felt endless. Her bags, stuffed with homemade jams, jars of chutney, and heavy apples from her parents, seemed to weigh a ton. After fifty yards, Sophie realised she couldnt carry on. Her back was about to give out.
She grabbed her phone and rang her husband.
Hi James, its me, she whispered when he picked up.
Sophie? Are you alright? Whats happened? he sounded anxious.
Nothings happened, silly. Ive come home! Im at the bus stop outside our place. Please come down and meet me, the bags are awfulmum packed enough to feed an army…
There was a strange pause. She checked her screen to make sure the call hadnt dropped.
Youre at the bus stop? Jamess voice shot up again. But why? You said Thursday!
I wanted it to be a nice surprise, Sophie frowned. James, can you come? Im as tired as a dog here.
Hang on! he yelled, panicked. Dont come yet. I mean, do, but… Look, theres nothing in the house. I finished the last of it yesterday. Please, just swing by the late shop on your wayget some steak, would you?
What? James, are you being serious? Sophie gasped. Im pregnant, six months gone, hauling two massive bags through the street! My back is killing me! There are potatoes at home, eggs too. Please, just meet meI need a bite and a lie-down.
No, Sophie, you dont get it, he rattled off, almost panicked. I want everything to be perfect. The shops right there! Just grab some beef and a little bag of new potatoes, the ones in the netting. Ask someone for help, or go steady… Please! Its for us. Ill get everything ready here.
Sophie stared at her sore, red hands where the bag straps had dug in. An angry warmth began rising in her chest.
Are you even listening to yourself? Her voice trembled. Youre actually asking your pregnant wife to go shopping now because you fancy making a roast?
Look, Ive started… um… prepping! If I leave now, Ill ruin it.
Please, for me. Ive been waiting for you. Eight hundred grams of beef, little bag of potatoes. Go onplease! Ill be waiting!
He ended the call. Sophie stood, staring at her now blank phone. She couldn’t take it in. Tears stung her eyes in the cold, harsh lamplight of that empty bus stop. Instead of a hug and a warm bed, she was being sent to the butchers.
Maybe hes planning something amazing? she caught herself thinking, as she heaved up the bags and hobbled towards the shop.
***
Sophie wheeled the trolley, the tired cashiers eyes following with silent sympathy. The beef was heavy, and the bag of potatoes impossible. By the time she left, her hands were numb, fingers curled into useless hooks.
Her phone rang again.
Did you get it? James sounded cheery.
Got it, she muttered through gritted teeth. Im at the front door. Let me in.
Wait! Dont come up! James nearly shrieked. Sit on the bench a minute. Just ten more minutes!
Are you joking? Sophie snapped, not caring about the few passersby around. James, Im about to give birth out of frustration! Ten more minutes? My feet are swollen, I cant stand anymore!
The surprise isnt ready! he insisted. If you come in now, itll all be ruined. Just sit and get some aira few minutes, Sophie, I swear! Right, Ive got to go or Ill run out of time!
He hung up again. She slumped onto the old wooden bench by their door, her bags thudding to the ground. She wanted to hurl the miserable beef through their third-floor window.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Sophie sat with her arms around her belly, everything inside her churning. What could possibly awaita sea of flowers? Breakfast by candlelight? A violinist in the corner?
Nothing, she decided, would make up for leaving her, in her condition, sitting there after a sleepless night.
At thirty-five minutes, the door creaked and out rushed James. He looked wild: his T-shirt on inside out, sweaty brow, hair stuck up at odd angles.
Youre still here! Why the long face? Look at the weather, isnt itoh, never mind. Lets go up!
Whats happened to you? Sophie squinted as she struggled up, using the railing for support. And why do you reek of cleaning fluid from a mile off?
Youll see! he said brightly, bouncing towards the lift.
Upstairs, James flung the flat door open with a flourish, beaming as if expecting applause.
The sharp smell of bleach and cheap sea breeze air freshener hit Sophie like a slap. She went from room to room, then to the kitchen, then checked the bathroom.
The flat was clean. Strangely bare. Bits and bobs that usually lived on the chairs were gone. The rug was freshly hoovered, with damp streaks still visible, and the shelves dusted. Her little ornaments were crowded in a corner.
Well? James grinned, proud as a peacock. What do you think? Surprise!
Sophie turned to him, her voice quiet.
Thats it?
What dyou mean thats it? Sophie! I spent three hours on this! I scrubbed everywhere, even under the sofa! All the dishes washed, the loo is sparkling. I wanted you to come home to a spotless place, no cleaning needed. I rushed like mad while you were… at the shop.
Sophie felt a lump in her throat.
So, to mop the floor you made me drag myself to the shop? You couldnt meet me at the stop because you were mopping?
Thats right! James threw up his hands. I did it for you! Youre always moaning I never help in the flat. I thought Id prove you wrong. You arrived early, I wasnt ready! I had to stall you so I could finish! Now youre acting like Ive wronged you!
James, are you an idiot? Sophies voice broke. I dont care about your floors! My back hurts, my bags were heavyJames, Im pregnant! Do you get that? Preg-nant! All I wanted was for you to hold my hand and bring me indoors, not run around with a mop!
James flushed crimson. He flung the cloth hed been clutching into the sink.
Oh, here we go! he shouted back. Never good enough for you! Im up since five, on my knees scrubbing, putting on a surpriseand all you do is yell! Have you even seen how spotless this place is? Cleaner than our wedding day!
At what cost? Sophie was breathless with rage. You left me sitting outside for ages! Im cold, my legs are numb! You sent me shopping for meat and potatoes when I could barely walk. This isnt a surprise, its a joke!
A joke? Sorry Im not perfect! You should be gratefulanother woman would be chuffed her husband cleaned up and offered to cook. But you can only think about yourself! ‘Oh, my bump, oh, my back.’ Maybe Im tired too! I was up all night, waiting, planning!
Sophie covered her face.
You just dont get it her voice broke. You traded my well-being for a clean skirting board.
Whats that got to do with anything? James yelled, pounding the table. Youre the one who ruined the surprise turning up early! If youd come Thursday like you said, youd have walked in to a spotless home, and everything wouldve been wonderful. But no, you arrived in the middle of the night! And now IM in the wrong!
Its you whos ungrateful, Sophie.
He stormed out, slamming the bedroom door. The baby kicked again. Sophie sank into a chair, staring at the packet of meat James hadnt put away. Nausea swept over her; she felt truly unwell.
Ten minutes later, the kitchen door creaked open. Should I cook the beef, then? he grumbled. Or are you going on hunger strike to spite me?
Leave it, James, Sophie murmured, not looking up. Just leave me be. I want to sleep.
Fine! The door slammed again.
Sophie got up, unsteady, and made her way to the bathroom. She stared at her reflectionpale, dark circles, hair ruffled. She remembered her hopes in the coach: that James would hug her and say, Thank goodness youre home. Some hope. Instead, hed… what?
After shed washed her face and returned, the row started again. James lost his temper, hurled a piece of beef at her. She left then and therethankfully, still in her coat. Went back to her parents.
***
Her whole family begged Sophie not to divorceher in-laws, her sister-in-law, distant relatives too. James kept calling, pleading her to return. But Sophie was firm: she didnt want a husband who put a clean flat above the health of their unborn child.
Why stay with someone who cared more for spotless floors than for her, or the comfort of the family they were about to become?
Sometimes, in trying so hard to impress others, we lose sight of what really matters: kindness, understanding, and simply being there for each other.
