He left me alone at the beautifully set table and dashed off to celebrate with his mates in the garage
Are you really going to just get up and leave? Just like that? Annas voice trembled, though she tried to make it sound more steely than wounded.
Robert froze in the hallway, one arm already halfway into the sleeve of his battered raincoat. He wasnt wearing his usual slippers, but his old trainersthe ones he always put on when he planned to tinker with his car. From the kitchen, the heavenly aroma of roast duck with apples drifted ina dish that needed four hours between preparing and marinating. On the living room table, clothed in her finest lace, crystal glasses caught the light, and artfully arranged salads gleamed, each meticulously diced by Anna since the early morning.
Anna, don’t start, please. Robert winced as if shed struck a nerve. The lads called. Daves carburettors gone kaput, hes stuck and needs a hand. Well be quick. An hour, no more. Ill be back and well celebrate, promise. The duck won’t even go cold.
Daves carburettor has a habit of breaking every Friday at seven on the dot, doesnt it? Anna replied, coolly leaning against the doorframe. Rob, its ten years today since we got married. I left work early for you. I bought your favourite wineit cost me half my paycheque. I even put on this dress. And youre off to the garage?
Robert finally shoved his other arm into his coat and began patting his pockets, searching for car keys.
Youre being dramatic. Its just a hunk of metal, it needs sorting out. You know what blokes are like. If it were my car, Dave would be here in a flash. Dont be selfish. Its not like Im hitting the pubweve got work to do. Stop sulking, Ill be right back.
He pecked her cheeka quick, dry kiss in passingand the front door slammed. The click of the lock sounded like a gunshot in the stillness of the flat.
Anna stood for a moment by the mirror: an elegant woman in a navy dress that flattered her figure, hair swept up, perfectly poised. Only her eyes seemed extinguished.
She walked slowly into the kitchen. The oven had switched off by timer, but fat still sizzled inside. Anna hefted the roasting trayher duck was perfect: burnished golden, scented with Bramley apples and a hint of spice. A culinary masterpiece, now of use to no one.
She carried it to the living room, sat at the set table laid for two. Two plates, two glasses, candles shed not had the chance to light. Silence pressed against her ears. Next door, the neighbours telly mumbled the news; here, emptiness reigned supreme.
Of course, he wouldnt be back in an hour. Or even in two. The garage was a Bermuda Triangletime worked differently there. Theyd take a look, then decide its not the carburettor, then someone would crack open a beer, then another bloke from down the road would pop in to share the birth of a grandchildor news of a missing catand the night would unravel.
Anna poured herself a glass of wine. Red, rich, a little tannic. She took a sip, then cut herself a leg from the duckthe best bit. She chewed absent-mindedly, tasting nothing. Within her rose not hysteria, but a cold and weighty clarity, as if a veil of denial had suddenly dropped from her eyes.
Hadnt this happened before?
Last year, on her birthday, he arrived three hours late, having helped his mum move a sofa. A delivery could have been hired for £50, but Robert insisted, Why pay, Ive got hands. He turned up sweating, tired and irritable, then complained about his back all evening.
Two summers back? They had booked a holiday in advance, but the day before leaving, hed lent half their savings to Daveagainbecause hes short for his credit card bill. Were mates, Anna, hell pay it back, Robert had insisted. Dave took half a year to return the money, dribbling it in instalments, and the holiday was spent eating instant noodles in their room, skipping outings and restaurants.
Anna stared at the empty second plate. Ten years. A tin wedding anniversary. They say tin is flexible, but bend it over and oversooner or later, it snaps.
She finished her portion of duck, ignoring the sides. Then she stood, snuffed out the unused candles, and began tidying up. Salads were stored away in the fridge, the wine stoppered. The dirty plates went in the dishwasher, though she didnt switch it on.
By 1am, Roberts phone was out of reach. At 2am, it finally popped up as online. Anna didnt bother calling. She turned down the bed, lay down, switched out the lamp, and stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant whirr of the lift.
The key turned in the lock at half past three. Robert crept inside, but the silence sharpened every sound. He stumbled over the shoe rack, muttered a curse, and rustled out of his jeans. He smelled of cheap tobacco, engine oil, and stale beerthe unmistakable tang of garage night.
He slid under the duvet, tried to cuddle her.
Awake? he whispered, his breath sour on her neck. Anna, look, Im sorry. It was a nightmareDaves whole engine was knocking, had to strip half of it. Elbows deep in oil, what could I do? My phone died too, no charger around…
Anna rolled to the edge of the bed. Dont touch me, she said quietly.
Oh, come on, what are you on about? Im home, arent I? Alive and well. Well celebrate tomorrowor rather, today. Ill pick up a cake…
He was snoring within moments. Anna got up, grabbed her pillow and a throw, and went to sleep on the sofa in the living room. The faintest scent of duck still hung in the aira perfume of a celebration that never happened.
The morning brought no apology, just grumblings. Robert shuffled into the kitchen at midday, puffy-eyed and dishevelled. Anna was drinking coffee, checking work emails on her laptop.
No breakfast, then? he asked, opening the fridge and scanning the shelves. Ah, theres some salad left. Brilliant. Wheres the duck?
In the fridge, in a container, Anna replied without looking up.
Warm it up, will you? My heads splitting, I need something to eat.
Anna closed her laptop with slow deliberation.
No.
What do you mean, no?
I mean I wont. Youve got handsthe very golden hands that fixed half of Daves car yesterday. Use them to reheat your own food.
Robert blinked in surprise. Usually, after their rows, Anna pouted for an hour or two but still did all the wifely dutiesfeeding, tidying, serving. That was the routine. Hed mess upshed sulkhed buy a chocolate bar or say something sweetshed forgive.
Youre still upset about last night? I explainedit was an emergency. Friends in need. You know what they say. You shouldnt try to keep a man on a lead.
Im not, she replied calmly. Youre absolutely free. And so am I. Free from doing your hungover washing-up.
It wasnt a piss-upit was repairs! he protested, shovelling salad straight from the bowl. Seriously though, youre getting twitchy. Maybe you need vitamins. Or you know…
Anna looked at him levelly, as if studying a stranger. This was the man stuffing down potato salad and scattering crumbsher husband, the person she once trusted with her life. She remembered it was her late grandmothers flat they lived in, just in her name. The renovations were mostly funded by Anna; Robert always seemed to have no work, or broken tools, or an urgent favour for his mum.
Rob, she said, almost whispering. What happened to the money we put by for the new windows?
He choked on his salad.
What do you mean? Its in the little box, where else?
It isnt. I checked this morning. Its empty. Fifty grand vanished.
Robert looked away, his ears red.
Oh, that… I took it. Yesterday, actually. Needed cash for parts, for Dave. Hell pay it back from his wages.
You took £500 from our household fund, didnt ask me, and gave it to Dave for his rustbucket? After weve been scrimping all year so we wont freeze this winter?
Its not just bits of paper, he snapped, tossing his spoon on the table. Hell pay it back. He promised! Anyway, Im the man of the housefinances are my department. Im not asking you about every little purchase, am I?
Youre supposed to, if its from the pot we both pay into. Especially when I pay in seventy percent.
I cant believe youre bringing money into this, he said, his eyes narrowing. Thats low, Anna. I thought you were above that. Youve turned mercenary, you know. Never used to be like this.
He stood up, slamming his chair, and stormed off. The TV flicked on soon after, volume up as high as it would goa pointed show of indifference.
Anna remained in the kitchen, feeling something inside her snapthe final thread keeping this ramshackle thing called marriage together. She finally accepted that theyd never get those windows. Dave would never pay the money backthere would always be loans, child support, or some other woe. Meanwhile, Robert played the noble rescuer at her expense while she cut back on lunches and make-up.
A week of cold war followed. They barely spoke except for necessary household details. Robert acted the wronged party, Anna the nagging wife, picking at him for nothing. Hed come home late, eat what leftovers he could find, and sleep turned away.
On Thursday, he came home unexpectedly early, in a cheery mood, with a bunch of petrol station chrysanthemums.
Come on Anna, enough of the silent treatment, he said, handing her the flowers. We good?
She put the blooms in a vase.
Good, Anna replied flatly. She might as well have been talking to a stranger. Her plan, by now, was perfectly clear in her head.
Great! Robert beamed. No point in sulking forever, is there? Listen, my birthdays Saturdayremember?
Yes, I remember.
I dont fancy the pub this yeartoo dear, bit cold. How about we have it here? Ill invite the lads, Dave and his missus, Tomhalf a dozen, tops. You always throw a smashing spread, dont you? Your cottage pie, those salads, the lot. Just the thing. Feels more homely. Theyve all been raving about your cooking.
Anna looked at him. Not a flicker of doubt in his eyes. He honestly believed that after hed ruined their anniversary, raided (stole, really) the window fund, and ignored her for a week, she should leap joyfully to the stove to cater for all his friends.
Alright, Anna smiled. It was a strange smile, but Robert didnt notice. Invite them for two on Saturday.
Thats my girl! He tried to hug her, she sidestepped, straightening the tablecloth. Want me to write a shopping list? Or do you want to do it?
No need, she brushed him off. Ill do the shopping. I want it to be a surprise. You know you like surprises.
Love em! he grinned. Ill ring up the lads then.
Friday was calm. Anna did nip to the shops and returned with bags. Robert tried to peek, but she playfully batted him away. No peeking, its a secret. The kitchen was noisy all evening, but she kept the door closed. The smells were unusual. Not the usual comforting aromas of roast and baking, but something bland and steamy. Robert assumed it was some complicated preparation.
Saturday arrived. Robert woke up buzzing with anticipation. Anna was up already, smart in a jacket and skirt.
All dressed up, are you? he teased. Thought youd wear that red dress.
This is more practical, she replied. Guests will be here soon?
Yep, Daves already en route. Ill nip for a shave and a shower.
While he freshened up, Anna was laying the table. By the time Robert emerged smelling of aftershave, the buzzer sounded. He let the guests inlaughter, bags brimming with lager and wine.
Happy birthday, mate! Dave clapped him on the shoulder. So, what has the missus cooked up for us? Cant smell muchgot a good extractor fan in here!
They piled into the living room and froze.
The table was perfectly set in their best linen, cutlery, glasses, napkinspicture perfect except for the food
In the centre, on a handsome platter, lay a hill of cheap supermarket pork pies all lumped together. Next to them, bowls of overcooked instant noodles puffed up in water. Where one expected a cheese board or slices of roast beefthick hunks of the cheapest ham, shrink-wrapped, still bearing bits of the plastic. In the glass salad bowlscroutons poured from a bag, and economy-brand tinned sardines in tomato sauce, plonked on the table in their tins.
Whats this? Robert croaked, gesturing at the dishes. Anna, is this a joke? Wheres the proper food? Where are the salads? The pie?
Dead silence. Dave shuffled from foot to foot, glanced from pastries to sardines, then at Anna. His wife pinched her lips.
Anna stood in the middle of the room, erect and remarkably calm, with a curious dignity.
This, Rob, is a Garage Feast. Since you seem to prefer your garage mates over our marriageeven on our anniversaryI thought Id reflect the atmosphere you clearly value. Tuck in, everyone. This is exactly what your gentlemens club deserves.
Whats wrong with you? Robert hissed, turning crimson. Youre embarrassing me in front of my mates! Take this away and bring out the real food. I saw you cooking yesterday!
I didmy meals for next week. Theyre in containers, in the fridge. This lot? This is for you. And its on you, by the waybought with whatever was left after you emptied our savings.
Dave gave a cough. Uh, Rob, mate, maybe We should go. Bit awkward, really.
Nobodys going anywhere! Robert barked. Anna will fix this. Right, Anna? Get in the kitchen, bring out a proper spread, apologise to everyone, and well move on. Otherwise
Otherwise what? Anna inquired, evenly.
Otherwise, I cant be held responsible. Remember whos the boss of this house, whose guests these are.
Your house? Anna laughed, the sound cold as iron. Lets clarify the legal bit while everyones here, shall we? This flat is mine, passed to me from my gran three years before our wedding. Under UK property law, anything acquired before marriage or inherited after remains personal propertyI checked. Youre only on the lease. Living here doesnt make it yours.
Robert was dumbfounded. Anna never spoke in this tonenormally it was talk of recipes, discounts, or holiday plans.
What are you on about? I did the tiling in here!
I paid a workman out of my bonus. And your contribution? Two sacks of sand, then you sat out back with cans for a week. Even if you convinced a court youd spent something on it, all you get is a partial refund. And since you keep siphoning off family funds for yourself, I doubt any court would be on your side.
Sod you, then! he shouted. Ill call the policesay youre causing a scene.
By all means, she nodded. Meanwhile, heres your stuff.
She rolled two big suitcases into the hall. All packedyour clothes, your shoes, your tools from the balcony. Even your favourite mugthough, for your information, it was my set.
Their guests began sidling towards the door. Daves wife started pulling on her boots.
Uh, Rob, well wait outside, Dave muttered and exited. The rest followed.
Robert stood alone amid the cold pies and suitcases.
Is this for real? he asked, no longer bellowing but lost, his swagger stripped away. Anna, we both got worked up, thats all. Ill grovel if you want. I was daft about the moneyIll pay it back. Please dont chuck me out. Where will I gomy mums? Her little flat?
Thats not my concern, Rob. Youre a grown man. Youve got your mates, your garage, and an engine that purrs. Live how you choose. Just not here.
Anna, youll regret this! he snapped, latching on to anger as everything else failed. Whos going to want a divorcee of thirty-eight? Ill find someone younger in no time! Youll be here, alone, with just cats for company!
Ill take my chances, she answered, serenely. Go on. And leave the keys on the table.
He hesitated, saw her stone-cold expression, and hurled the keys onto the floor.
Keep your precious flat!
He dragged his luggage onto the stairwell. The door clanged shut.
Anna turned the locks, slid over the chain, and stood with her back to the cold steel. Her heart hammered, her hands shook. But not a tear fell. Instead, a sense of surprising lightness spread through hera burden lifted after ten long years, one she now realised shed mistaken for happiness.
She went to the living room, swept up the table with the cold pies, noodles, and cheap meat into a black bin liner and binned the lotno sorting, just gone. She opened the window to clear the stench of fish and mens aftershave.
Then she took out the bottle of wine leftover from their anniversary, poured herself a glass, sat in her favourite chair.
Her phone pinged. A message from her mum: Hows the birthday party, love? Is Robert happy?
Anna replied: It went perfectly, Mum. The best birthday of his life. And the first day of my new life.
Tomorrow, shell get the locks changed. Monday, shell start the divorce. Yes, itll be messyshouting, threats, probably arguments over every knife and spoon. But that didnt matter any more. Tonight, for the first time in years, she isnt eating alone. Shes sitting with someone newherself. Clever, strong, and finally, someone she has begun to respect.
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