I dont get it, youve changed the locks? Max Whitaker began, his voice tinged with annoyance. I couldnt get in for half an hour
Your stuff is with Samantha, Amy Carter interrupted. Go fetch it if you two are made for each other.
Max went as white as a sheet. His collarbone tightened, his jaw quivered.
What rubbish is that? Whos this Samantha again?
Jane, youre off today, arent you? Amy raised an eyebrow, eyeing the colourrun hairdresser shivering from the cold.
The stylist, tossing snow from her bright ginger bob, hurriedly pulled her coat tighter.
Oh, Amy, one of my clients just rang she needs a wedding updo, ASAP. She called an hour ago.
Im on my way, Jenna muttered, clearly rattled, fumbling with the sleeves of her apron. You dont mind, do you? Ive slotted it in my schedule.
Amy simply waved her hand. People have jobs, thank God. Shed always loved her tiny salon for the familylike atmosphere.
These days the place looks like this: Ryan is busy perfecting a tricky colour blend, whispering to his client; Lucy and Polly have taken a break between manicures, sipping tea with a slice of fruit cake someone dropped off; Kate, by the window, is polishing the tools.
The room is warm, cosy, scented with coffee and hairspray.
Maxs text buzzed in Amys pocket:
Love, Ill be late today. Important meeting with the clients.
Amy smiled her husband always gave a headsup when hed be tardy. Considerate, that one.
Just the other day shed bought his favourite biscuits for no reason other than to make him smile.
The front door swung open, letting a gust of frosty air inside.
Standing on the doorstep was a tall, young woman in a coat with a plush fur collar. Her polished boots clicked, leather gloves clutched in her hands.
Good afternoon, she said, her tone as chilly as the wind, scanning the salon with a precise gaze. I need to speak with you.
Amy offered her usual smile.
Im listening.
Privately, the visitor replied, smoothing her perfectly set blonde hair.
Something in the womans tone set Amy on edge. She led the stranger to the tiny back room, proudly called the directors office.
My names Samantha, the woman said, sinking into a chair and crossing her legs. Ive come to talk about Max.
Amys heart thumped faster, but she kept her composure. Years of dealing with capricious clients had taught her to keep a steady face.
Which Max?
Your husband, Samantha leaned forward a touch. Listen whats your name again?
Amy.
Amy, listen. I know youre ill. Thats why Max cant bring himself to file for divorce.
Hes scared of hurting you, worried your mind wont cope. But it cant go on like this.
Weve loved each other a long time. We could be happy if only we didnt behave like this.
Amy stared at her, feeling reality tilt into a surreal dream.
Max? The Max who kissed her this morning before heading to work? The Max who spent an hour yesterday browsing holiday tours for Mayday, saying, Wherever you want, sunshine?
Ive thought a lot, Samantha continued, clearly rehearsing. It would be fair to leave you half the flat. You understand that blackmailing a husband is just wrong.
Amy exhaled slowly. Her thoughts rang clear, even if her head felt a bit dizzy.
I need time to think, she said evenly. Can we touch base tomorrow?
Samantha seemed taken aback, fluttering her long lashes in confusion.
Of course write me down my number.
That night Max came home late, just as hed promised. He smelled of his usual aftershave, mixed with a faint whiff of Samanthas perfume barely noticeable, but Amy could now separate the two scents.
Fancy a dinner? she asked, watching him slip off his shoes with the same old habit.
Wouldnt say no, he grinned, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Whats on the menu?
Seafood pasta. Your favourite.
He ate heartily, recounting his hectic day, asking how the salon was faring.
Everything was as usual, only now Amy saw the performance behind every gesture, every tone a onewoman show.
Five years, the memory thumped in her temples. Five years of
She lay awake that night, listening to Maxs even breathing, recalling how theyd met, how hed courted her, how hed proposed.
When did the lies start? From the beginning or later? And why?
She footed the bills, bought presents for the whole family, even for his elderly aunt. She organised holidays, kept an eye on his health, remembered his vitamins and vaccinations.
And he he only paid the loan on his flashy car. You know, the status symbol.
By morning the decision had ripened. As Max, as usual, kissed her goodbye and headed off, Amy grabbed her phone and found yesterdays contact.
Hello, Samantha? Its Amy. Lets meet today. Ive made up my mind.
Amy methodically folded Maxs shirts, smoothing each crease.
Navy blue in tiny checks his favourite for important meetings. White with French cuffs a birthday gift.
Five years of shared life squeezed into two suitcases and a gym bag.
Samantha called back, triumph ringing in her voice.
Im on my way! Taxis downstairs. Youve thought this through, right?
Of course, Amy replied calmly. If were selling the flat, the first step is clearing it out.
Ill pack Maxs stuff, you take it away. Ill talk to him later; hell be back tonight.
A pause hung in the line.
You know, Samantha said uncertainly, youre surprisingly levelheaded. I expected you to scream, threaten youre reasonable.
Amy smirked. A selfassured woman who thought the world should dance to her tune.
Life teaches restraint, she answered dryly. The flats threehundred and twelve pounds a month.
Samantha strutted into the flat in a pink coat, a designer handbag slung over her shoulder, stilettos clicking despite the ice on the pavement.
Oh, thats his favourite jumper! she chirped, eyeing the clothes. And the cufflinks I gave him for New Years!
Amy froze. So those cufflinks were hers? Max had claimed he bought them himself on a business trip
Take everything, she said hoarsely. Including the bedding, its in a separate bag.
Samantha hauled the suitcases into the taxi, constantly fixing her hair, muttering about the perfect updo.
I knew straight away Max was miserable in this marriage. A man like that cant live next to she trailed off, giving Amy a scrutinising look. Anyway, were made for each other. Youll see, hell blossom beside me!
Amy watched in silence as the stranger raided her flat. What heartfelt story had Max whispered to his lover?
When Samanthas door shut, Amy sank onto the sofa. The empty flat echoed with silence.
Five years together had shrunk to a handful of memories and they turned out to be nothing but a façade.
The phone buzzed again Max.
Darling, fancy a pizza tonight? Im starving 
Amy smiled. Even the emojis were there a caring, loving, attentive husband. Shed always been proud of their relationship.
Friends envied them: Five years and still lovebirds!
At seven oclock a knock sounded. Max stood on the doorstep, dishevelled and bewildered.
I dont get it, you changed the locks? he started, indignant. I couldnt get in for thirty minutes
Your things are with Samantha, Amy cut in. Go fetch them if you think youre made for each other.
Max turned ashen. His throat tightened, his jaw trembled.
What nonsense? Whos this Samantha?
Stop, Amy said wearily. She was in the salon yesterday. She told me everything about your love, about my blackmail. By the way, why am I ill? What did you tell her?
Amy, listen
No, you listen. The flat is mine. And well split the car when we divorce; its joint property. And yes Im perfectly healthy.
She slammed the door on his pale face. Her hands shook, yet the room felt oddly snug.
The phone rang almost instantly Samantha.
What does my flat mean? she shouted. You promised!
I never promised anything, Amy snapped. You decided to split everything here. By the way, have a look at your prince.
He even bought his own car on credit his contribution to the family budget.
She hit reject and tossed the phone onto the couch. Then she walked slowly around the flat, getting used to the new quiet.
The wardrobe showed empty shelves, the bathroom was missing his shaving kit, the kitchencounter lacked his favourite mug with the absurd slogan.
Five years evaporated, leaving a hollow and a strange, bittersweet relief.
Amy moved to the window. Snow swirled outside, evening lights flickered in neighbours windows. Life went on.
She picked up the phone, dialed a number
Jenna? Remember you mentioned a hendo this weekend? Ive changed my mind Ill join you.
