I’ll find a better husband for my daughter
This months going to be tougher muttered Andrew as he refreshed his banking app.
He sighed. Lately, money seemed to vanish like water down the drain. He knew why, but he wasnt ready to put it into words just yet.
Andrew left the lift, loosening his tie as he stepped onto the third floor and made his way to the fourth door on the left. After three years, this route had become second nature.
The key turned in the lock and the familiar scent of fried potatoes and parsley filled his nostrils. Vera always went heavy on the parsleyshe sprinkled it from the heart. Andrew kicked off his shoes and tossed his bag onto the hallway table.
Im home.
Im in the kitchen! came Veras reply.
She was at the stove, stirring something in the frying pan, her hair caught up in a messy ponytail, clad in her favourite tartan shirt. Andrew walked up behind and kissed the top of her head.
Smells lovely.
Potato and mushrooms. Sit down, Ill start setting the table.
Vera smiled but the smile didnt reach her eyes. Andrew caught it instantly. Over three years together hed learned to read her better than any booka smile that was really camouflage for her worries.
He sat down at the small kitchen table, watching as Vera laid out the food. Her movements were brisk and sharp, not flowing as usual. Something was bothering herprobably yet another conversation with her mother. Margaret was a woman who left a strong aftertaste.
She called, then? Andrew asked, though he already knew the answer.
Vera paused for a moment, then placed his plate in front of him and sat down across the table.
Yeah. Nothing much, really.
A lie. Margaret never called for nothing. Every chat was like a tiny poisoned needle.
Andrew didnt push. He could have probed, pulled out the story, fished for every word Veras mother had poured in her ear. But why? Hed heard it all before. The same tired complaints: salarys too small, cars too old, nowhere to grow. Stuck record…
They ate in their little flat in peaceful silence. Their one-bed place might have been modesta block of flats on the edge of townbut it was theirs, not rented. Andrew had bought it before they married and that truth felt good. Not a palace, but honest, hard-earned shelter.
Vera pushed her potatoes around her plate distractedly, lost in thought. Andrew knew who she was thinking about. Margaret had a knack for lingering in someones mind, like a catchy jingle you cant shake.
…From the very first meeting, Margaret had taken against Andrew. Hed worn his best jeans and his only decent jumper to meet her. She eyed him the way one inspects bargain goods at a sale, lips pressed in judgement.
And what do you do? she asked.
Im an engineer.
Engineer The word hung in the air like a confession. Is the pay at least decent?
Vera had bristled, tried to change the subject, but Margaret had set the tone. Three years on, she hadnt softened.
Every encounter became a test of Andrews patience. Maggies son opened his second business this year. When are you getting a new car? That wreck of yours is falling apart. Vera always dreamed of a place in the countryside, you know?
Andrew trained himself to let the barbs slide past with a smile and a nod, never biting back. What was the point? Margaret never changed her mind once it was set.
Vera finished her meal and set her plate aside.
Mum wants us for dinner on Saturday. Dads birthday.
Andrew tensed, barely visibly. Saturday dinners at Veras childhood home were a marathonthe long table, a crowd of relatives, and Margaret presiding at the head like a general reviewing her troops.
What time?
Seven.
Alright. Well pick up a cake on the way.
Mum said not toshes got it all covered.
Of course. Margaret liked having her finger on every detail. Bringing a cake would disrupt her perfect plan.
Vera gathered the dishes and went to the sink, Andrew watching her slender frame. She always seemed so delicate, a little bird he wanted to shield from every storm. But the strongest wind blew from her old home, and there was no escape.
Vera. She turned. You know I love you.
And I love you, she answered softly.
But something flickered in her eyesuncertainty? Exhaustion? Guilt?
Andrew didnt ask. Sometimes youre better off not knowing the seeds that others plant in your loved ones mind.
Saturday arrived all too soon…
Andrew parked his battered old Toyota outside Margarets house. The paint had peeled off the wing last autumn, but hed never managed to fix it. Vera, sitting beside him, fiddled nervously with her handbag strap.
Ready?
No, she replied honestly. But we have to go up regardless.
Margarets flat greeted them with the scent of roast beef and quiet, overlapping voices. Veras father, Richard, was a kindly, quiet man. He hugged his daughter and shook Andrews hand, looking almost embarrassed by the celebrations.
The relatives were already seated round the long tableAndrew, after three years, still struggled to remember everyones names. Margaret sat at the head, handing out instructions to the youngest family members.
Andrew settled beside Vera, close to the edgehis escape route if things got unbearable.
The first half hour was calmcheers for Richard, clinking glasses, laughter. Andrew even relaxed, reaching for the bread.
Andrew, Margarets voice cut through the peace, and he knew hed got comfortable too soon. Youre still living in that one-bed, arent you?
Yes, Margaret. Weve got enough space.
Enough, she repeated. And what about children? Where will a baby sleep in that shoebox?
Vera tensed beside him. Andrew slipped his hand under the table to squeeze hers.
When were ready for children, well sort out a new place.
Oh, youll sort it, will you? Margaret eyed the family for support. On your wages? Take out a loan, Andrew. Thats what smart people doget a mortgage, buy a bigger flat, move up.
Id rather not get into debt, Andrew replied steadily. We own our home. Thats all we need for now.
All he needs! Margaret surveyed her audience. Listen to him! The man thinks enough is good enough. Let his wife squeeze into a cupboard while her friends buy spacious flats.
Mum, Vera started quietly.
Be quiet. Im speaking to your husband. Margaret turned to Andrew. Maggies boy, Tomremember him? Got two loans, now hes got a three-bed in the centre and a German car. And you? You drive a heap, live in a box. Arent you ashamed?
Andrew set down his fork, slowly and deliberately. Three years of swallowing barbs, comparisons, scorn. All for Vera. For peace.
Im not ashamed, he replied, voice steady. I earn an honest living. I dont steal, I dont cheat. I live within my means.
Within your means! Margaret stood up, slapping her palm against the table. Glasses rattled, a fork clattered to the floor. Her face flushed angrily.
Youre not a real man, youre a spineless wimp! My daughter deserves a proper husband, not you! Ill find her someone better!
Silence crashed in. Relatives froze, forks halfway to mouths. Richard stared at his plate, too nervous to look up.
Andrew rose, calm and slow. Hed had enough.
Margaret. I wont spend my life trying to prove my worth to someone who already despises me. If Im not good enough for you, thats your opinion. But I wont let myself be insulted anymore.
Vera gazed at Andrew, wide-eyed, then looked at her mother. The two pillars of her world stood on opposite sides nowand it was clear shed have to choose.
Vera stood up.
Mum. I love you. But if you insult my husband again, well leave, and we wont come back.
Margaret froze.
What did you say?
You heard me. Andrew is my husband. I chose him. And I wont let you belittle him. Ever again.
How dare you! Margaret gasped, fuming. Ungrateful girl! I raised you, taught you, and now this! You pick this useless man over me!
Mum, stop!
Veras shout split the air. Relatives shrank into their seats. Even Auntie Jean, famous for her commentary, kept quiet.
All my life youve tried to control me, Vera went on, voice shaking. What to wear, who my friends should be, who to love. Enough. Im an adult. And Ill choose how to live and who with.
Margaret glared at her daughter, face pale and drawn.
Youll regret this day, she said through gritted teeth. When he leaves you penniless, youll come crawling home. Ill think twice about opening the door.
She stormed past, slamming her bedroom door behind her.
Andrew stepped to Vera, holding her close. Vera pressed her face to his chest, shoulders trembling.
You did the right thing, he whispered. Im proud of you.
Richard got slowly to his feet.
Youd best head home, he said gently. Shell calm down. Eventually.
Vera rode home in silence. Andrew didnt push her. Some wounds just need quiet.
Back in their small flat, Vera finally spoke.
I wont be the one to call first.
Ill support whatever you decide.
She looked upher eyes tired and full of tears, but a fire smouldering deep inside.
Well be alright, she said.
Andrew pulled her close. Outside, the sunset faded. Their tiny flat didnt feel cramped anymore. It was their fortress, and the real story was only just beginning.
