The Happiness of an Old Communal Flat
Waiting for her husband to return from work, Sophie sat at the kitchen table, sipping unhurriedly at her mug of chamomile tea. The sound of a key turning in the lock made her pause and rise, lingering in the doorway. Her husband, Edward, stepped insidestern and silent.
“Hello,” she said first. “Youre late again. I finished dinner ages ago, just waiting for you…”
“Hello,” Edward replied. “You didnt have to wait. Im not hungry. Actually, I wont be staying longjust need to pack a few things and go.” He kept his shoes on as he walked past her into the bedroom, pulling a suitcase from the wardrobe.
Sophie stood frozen. She watched, bewildered, as he tossed in whatever clothes he could grab.
“Edward, whats going on?”
“Dont you get it? Im leaving you,” he said flatly, avoiding her eyes.
“Where?”
“For another woman.”
“Oh, I see. Someone younger, I supposethough forty isnt exactly old, is it?” she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness as the reality sank in. She refused to cry, refused to give him the satisfaction. “How long has this been going on?”
“Nearly a year,” he said calmly, then added, seeing her shock, “If you didnt notice, thats your problem. I hid it well.”
“Are you leaving for good, or?” she pressed.
“Sophie, are you being deliberately slow? Listen carefully. Im leaving you for her. Were having a childsomething you couldnt give me. Shes giving me a son. You have one month to move out of my flat. Where you go is your concern. Well be living here with our son until her lease is up.”
With that, he left. Sophie stood alone, the walls pressing in, the flat eerily silent. She turned on the telly just to hear a human voice. Twelve years with Edward dissolved in an instant. It took her a week to pull herself together.
Her parents, gone too soon, had left her a cottage in the countryside. But the thought of living alone in some remote village didnt appeal.
“I cant do it,” she thought. “No work, no conveniencesat thirty-five, Im not ready to bury myself in the countryside.” So she decided to sell it. The money would buy her a room in a shared flat or a boarding houseenough to start over.
The sale happened quickly. When she arrived in the village, her neighbour, Margaret, was waiting.
“Sophie, love, so glad you came! We were about to go into town to find you.”
“Whats happened?” Sophie asked.
“Well… my relatives want to buy your cottage. Theyre from up north, looking for a place to tear down and rebuild. They want to be near familymy sister and her husband…”
“Margaret, thats perfect! Ill sell it today if the price is right. Heres my number…”
It all fell into place. Within ten days, the money was in her handsnot much, given the state of the place, but enough. She bought a tiny room in a converted boarding house. The kitchen was shared, two rooms occupied by neighbours, and the third was hers. To her, it was a communal flat.
The neighbours seemed quiet and respectable. Sophie rarely saw them, leaving early and returning late from work. There, shed begun seeing a colleague, Thomas. Things had seemed promisinguntil, just before International Womens Day, he dropped a bombshell.
“I need time to think. Im not sure about my feelings. Lets take a break.”
“Take a break? Oh, bugger off,” she snapped.
She stormed home that evening, furious. At thirty-six, she didnt have time for breaks. Stress-eating seemed the only solution. But when she opened the fridge, the ham shed bought was gone. She trembled with rage.
“Who took my ham?” she bellowed across the kitchen.
“Sophie, dear, I threw it out two days ago,” Vera, her elderly neighbour, said meekly. “It had turned greensmelled awful. I thought you wouldnt risk eating it.”
“You had no right! You dont get to decide what I eat!” Sophies temper flared. The divorce, the downgraded living situation, Thomass rejectionit all boiled over.
“Vera, dont take it to heart,” said the other neighbour, John, a silver-haired man in his sixties, calmly reading his paper in the corner. “Shes lashing out because someone else hurt her.”
“And what would you know?” Sophie rounded on him. “No one asked you.”
“More than youd think.”
“Oh, so clever, are you? Then why are you stuck in this dump?”
Vera exchanged a glance with John and retreated. Sophie slammed her door and collapsed onto the sofa.
“Kitchen philosopher,” she muttered. “Who does he think he is?”
An hour later, cooling down, she realisedthe ham had been there for ages. Shame washed over her.
“I was horrible to Vera. Shes old enough to be my mother. Im turning into a shrew.” She forced herself to apologise.
Vera was in the kitchen. “Im so sorry. I dont know what came over me. Everything just… piled up. John was right.”
Vera smiled and hugged her. “It happens, love. Sitwell have tea and cake. But you should apologise to John too. He didnt deserve that. He was a professor, you know. Had a lovely flat in town. But… when his wife fell illbrain cancerour doctors gave up. He found a clinic abroad, sold everything to pay for it. She survived the surgery, but… not for long. After she passed, he paid off the debts and ended up here.”
Sophie nearly cried. “Thank you for telling me. Ill apologise tomorrow.”
The next evening, she knocked on Johns door, a gift in hand.
“Good evening, John. Please accept thisand my apology. I was awful yesterday.”
He listened kindly, then smiled. “What a lovely surprise. But Ill only accept if you join meits my birthday today.”
“Oh! Happy birthday! Of course I will.”
With Veras help, they set the table. Sophie opened up about her pasthow shed fallen for a married man at university, gotten pregnant, and been pressured into an abortion. Then infertility, and Edwards betrayal.
Just as they sat down, the doorbell rang. A tall, smiling man in his forties stood there.
“Hello, Im Veras son, Daniel.”
“Sophie. Come in.”
The evening was warm with laughter and stories. Daniel, a former geologist turned lorry driver, had no shortage of tales.
Later, walking through the snow-laden streets, Daniel admitted, “Mums a bit sweet on John, you know. And I think he feels the same.” He grinned. “As for me, Ive been divorcedwife found someone else while I was away.”
Three days later, before leaving for a haul, he asked, “Will you wait for me?”
“Of course.”
Their romance blossomed into love. They married, and a year later, little Archie was born. When Daniels away, Sophie and Archie stay in her old roomthe best place to pass the time. Vera and John dote on their honorary grandson. Better babysitters couldnt be found.
